12/05/05
12/03/05
Dead Like Me...
So, I confirmed my skydiving trip. In nine days exactly I will be plummeting to the earth after ejecting myself from a plane. I will also be shitting my pants and screaming like a weaned-but-still-wanting-to-be-breast-fed-by-mom-Maddox-Jolie.
This will hopefully, be one of the smartest things I've ever done.
Next to marrying my life partner, Danny, of course.
12/01/05
An Ambitious Lucifer Morningstar Creates A New Cosmos Modelled After His Own Image...
Attractive lady with a kid stopped by my office asking for my help to find a medical office somewhere in the building. First thing I did was make an obligatory cheesy joke, worry if she saw the comic books by the stapler and then get up and trip over my lunch that was on the floor by my feet.
I showed her a couple places that could be the office that she was looking for. The whole time trying to help her out even though I know absolutely nothing about everything and everybody that works here never talks to each other anyway. But what am I supposed to do? Say, “Sorry, I’m relatively new to this complex and I’m still unfamiliar with this place. You can use my phone if you would like, to help you find the location that you’re looking for better?” Perish the thought that I would ever calm down for anything and think things through. Perish the thought that I would not come across like a big dork. Dorkdorkdork.
Her kid was making fart noises with his mouth. I was leading her in the wrong directions. Nobody was remembering about Afghanistan. Nobody was caring about the kidnapped Panchen Lama. Farts and wrong directions. Fartfartfart. We just wandered around until she struck out on her own again. I am writing about this for no other reason than to say that I’m a bored penis and that tripping over my lunch was the only funny aspect of this long-winded story.
Oh, and the medical office that she was looking for is…three doors down from mine.
Goodbye.
11/30/05
The More That I Talk To You...
the more that we'll argue
so I won't
talk
not argue
I wish that we could talk
like the other people do
but that would mean
that we were just like other people
so
if I had a choice of
us
not being able to communicate as well as we should
versus
the communicative bunch of guttural cows
then
I'd rather be the one who stirs the stew
than
be the main ingredient of it
11/25/05
Miyagi Walks...
Girlfriend's talking to me about shopping sales.
I'm pretending to listen.
I think that I was going to talk about Captain America, Hitler, The Red Skull and Kanye West.
The Red Skull hates black people.
Today in almost-gonna-take-a-nap-before-work shift-no.2-world, I was nippy-eyeing a gossamer image of Mike Myers on the television and realized how uncomfortable he must've felt during the Hurricane Katrina telethon. Even though Kanye was wearing his heart in his vocal chords - and even though I loved that he was speaking the truth - it was still fucking funny. Too bad I never came up with the idea of being Kanye West and a friend being Mike Myers for Halloween. All we'd do all night is just stand by the keg at parties and play out that bit. I'd stutter, "George Bush hates black people" as Jocks would try to elbow me out of the way to get to the keg tap.
"George Bush hates black people."
Girl would ask me what I was supposed to be for Halloween.
"George Bush hates black people."
Host of the party would punch me in the face for sleeping with his girlfriend.
"George Bush hates black people."
Cops would show up.
"George Bush hates black people."
Puking afterwards.
"George Bush hates black people."
Why don't I have a keychain thingy that says, "George Bush hates black people?"
Napoleon Dynamite? Feh! Kanye West, baby!
That or Pat Morita.
"Pat Morita hates black people."
11/23/05
On 11/25/05, I Will Be Asleep In A Cryogenic Tube Dreaming About Koi Playing Lazer Tag To The Mos Eisley Cantina Jazz Ditty...
UPDATE: I suck. The end. No, wait - there's more...If the pic doesn't show up above, I'm not gonna change it because I'm unmotivated and technologically inept. So, the red, little cross in the box thing's as fancy as it's gonna get. Question, though...Does buying something on EBAY count? Does prostitution count? Poker? iTunes? Blargh? Feh? Meh? Blah? Oi!
11/21/05
A Safe Bet...
If you want to get on a bartender's bad side - come to his bar after a major sporting event. Make sure you've had a lot of drinks, yell about statistics for hours and make sure that you tell me repeatedly that you're hungry, even though the bartender isn't serving food.
Okay? Thanks.
GO CHARGERS!!! WHOOOOOO!!!! BELCH! FART! WHOOOOO!!!!!
11/17/05
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