I Hate Cake.

No, not the band. I like them. I hate cake, the dessert.

I hate when I'm at work and there's some extra cake left from a party or something and everybody else who works there hides pieces in the kitchen for themselves for later. I hate how people treat it like gold. They throw their hands up in the air, they get a fanatical look on their faces and start to run towards it.

What's it like, fucking gold? Shit, I'll make it myself. I've seen kids just practically poop themselves when you mention it. They have to be coerced into finishing their actual meal. Like their hamburger or pizza is so horrible to get through.

I mean...it's cake. Like Betty Crocker cake. You can buy it. You can get one decorated. Cake. CAKE! This isn't The Soviet Union. We don't live in the middle ages. People go to IHOP and practically eat cake for breakfast, so what's the deal? It drives me apeshit to see people going nuts over cake. Especially when they're full. Just eating cake because it exists? It's like having sex with a fat hooker because you have a free coupon. Fat hooker? Cake? CAKE!!!

I'm going to become a baker and just keep on having employees just shoot that shit right outside the building. It'll fly out of an iron chute and skid all across the street. I'll laugh watching all of the traffic accidents. SUV'S will flip over, fire hydrants will be knocked over, there'll be a pile of cars that reaches to the sky because there's FREE CAKE. FREE FUCKING CAKE EVERYONE, LOOK! YEAH, LOOK AT IT - RIGHT OVER THERE, IT'S FREE, I TELL YA' AAARRRGGGHHHH!!!!!

CAKECAKECAKECAKE!!!!!!

I Look...

like a dork in this outfit.

BACKGROUND BAR PEOPLE have changed places some. Some new. Some the same. Some are still in the same place but have more glasses and bottles around them and are obviously drunker. Maybe the bar has more people in it. Maybe it doesn’t depend on the bar and the time.

But KEN and KESEY are getting very drunk.


KEN- Y’ know, I’m gonna make this into one of my screenplays…no – a play first because…

KESEY – Why?

KEN – If I can do it on – wait – what? Why what?

KESEY – Geez. Wait, why don’t you. Ummm…why?

KEN – Why what? What do you mean? Whymakeitintoafucking-

KESEY – Why write about shit before it’s done? Why don’t you write about something already done instead of preying on your real emotions and circumstances and just tooling around with what you already know as opposed to what you don’t? Why play the waiting game and just work with what you know? Maybe that’s why you haven’t really done anythi-

KEN – Why I haven’t done anything- Dude, I’ve done a lot of shit. I have…

KESEY – Yeah, I know what you’ve done, and it’s cool and all, but you’re getting older. Older. Seriously. You talk and talk about stuff and that’s great and all and you have a million good ideas but why not be fucking Da Vinci or Ben Franklin and just be Harper Lee or Catcher In The Rye?

Ken – What? Catcher In the Rye?

Kesey – What ever his name was.

KEN – Is. His name is…

KESEY - Whatever.

Chris T.

That would be neat to be named Chris and then have a last name that starts with T, huh? I would always just use the initial for my last name. My frends would write to me in letters, "Jesus, Chris T!"

Sorry. I'm bored.

I need to write a list for myself:
Comic book store
Return Land Of The Dead and Dominion
Organize all of that crap that you're going to ship
Get a Money Order
Call the skydiving place
Call your mother. Ummm...okay. Suuuurrrreee.
Don't be this boring ever again.

The Sad Thing Is...

That I think that I spend more time talking about other peoples relationships or just philosophizing in general about the nature of the beast than actually spending time with my significant other.

It's kind of like being a sign-language teacher and not realizing that passing motorists are flipping you off on your way to work.

Wrecking Crew...

Arghhh.

The only good thing about L.A. is the people living in it.

My Ancestors Would Be Proud...

I hate being busy. I hate doing things. I hate going in public places. I hate being around people. I don't like to do things that're proposed to me by others. I'd rather slowly stir those things around and see how I feel about them later. I feel like I've done it all before, I know what to expect and that nothing is new to me.

I don't like to exercise, walk, hike or go to the gym. I hate the mall. I hate to shop and would rather not go than to just look around. I hate parking lots and hate how people drive. I hate the internal combustion engine. I hate loud noises. I hate car horns. I hate screeching. I hate wailing sirens and people yelling out, "Fuck You's!" to each other as they accelerate away.

I don't like working. I hate stifling sparks of creativity and, if you're lucky, making do with scribbling down that amazing idea on a nearby scrap of paper and cramming it into your pocket because you can't write more about it at work. I hate rules. I hate the hot smell of paper that comes out of the copier. I hate file cabinets. I hate food. I hate tips. I hate cranky, ass old people. I hate people in a hurry. I hate fat guts. I hate having too many options when I call customer service. I hate that the same woman's recorded voice is on the phone regardless of what department I call because it's just like seeing the same commercial on the TV every single time you turn it on.

I hate. I'm unmotivated. I'm lazy. I have no drive. No will. No discipline. I hate.

Yes, I do.

But I love this post. Yes. I love it. And I love this Coca-Cola over here to my right. I love that I just wasted 17 minutes doing something that I shouldn't be doing and that nobody can take that time back from me because I've already spent it.

I love it.

And His Brother Gandalf...

Dude. Full on just saw a guy's paperwork and his name is...Merlin.

Fucking Merlin.

He's married too.

Can you imagine being married to Merlin?

What's their house look like?

Does he ever get ID'd at Rennaisance Fairs? Or maybe Medieval Times?

Merlin. So awesome. Or so mean, I don't know.

Richard Fell...



I think that the ankle's not broken
but my drunken, youthful exhuberance is
my confidence in this body is as brittle as my bones

I am now strapped to this computer
yet, I am told by my girlfriend that
we are having friends over for dinner

X-rays tomorrow
my underarms are already sore from the crutches

I feel like Mr. Glass fron Unbreakable.
I feel like Mr. Stupid-Head from October 2005.

No More Golfing For Me...

3 A.M. in the park across the street. Drunk w/ a neighbor. I fell getting more golf balls. Now I won't have a limp anymore because I might've broken my LEFT ANKLE NOW.

Yay! Crutches again!!!!!