In Protest Of Protests...

After work on Saturday, I stepped out onto the street and immediatly heard the sound of females screaming. I checked to see if my fly was open, but it wasn't. Nobody was around, so I forgot about it. A couple minutes later though, I found out where the screaming was coming from. Three young, skinny girls in shorts we're holding up signs on a street corner. Yes, I was disappointed that they didn't say "Honk If You're Horny" or "Free Sex". The signs said "Honk For Peace". So I thought that was okay. I'm down with pieces of poo, A Seperate Peace, pieces of chicken, buying a piece from your local arms dealer, and the good-intentioned, but imaginary "Peace" of the hippie variety. And i'm down with girls who dig peace too. Just as long as they don't smell like that pouchoulie-smelly-dirt-perfume-crap, or have more hair under their arms and down their pants than I do on my head. Oh wait...I shaved my head...whatever. Oh, and they can't slip me bad acid.

Anyway, so when I drove by I raised my hand out of the window and waved, but then remembered that I was supposed to honk for peace, but then I was driving one-handed and trying to look at the girls at the same time, so I just honked with my forearm.

And that's it, punk-ass.

Have a good day at work, and remember to send me half of your earnings for booze.

Pirates Treasure...

Never trust a man with a big ass.
Or specifically, a not-necessarily-obese-man-with-a-big-ass.
I don't know why you shouldn't trust them - but just don't, okay?

Beware the big, male booty.

Lunch Money Conversation From Last Night...


"Yeah, I'd save up all of mine and use it for the weekend."

What for?

"A 40 oz. and a pack of smokes."

No. I was talking about Elementary School.

"Yeah, me too"

The Modern World...

It's kind of cool to be watching The Golden Globes
and have the abilty to rag on this at the same time.

I had a bunch of ideas - but they're all gone now...
If I actually focused, I could probably write something...

Ummmm...I plan on staying up really late tonight. I don't know what I really wan't to do. I'm too tired to do anything serious. I am now going to turn up Weezer a bit. Hold on......Geez, when did my stomach start looking like this? I've got a little pouch. It's the beginning of a baby bowling ball. Time to start talking again to my old friend "Sit-up's". I'm not fat. I don't think I ever will be. I gain about a half pound a year. Actually, that's a lie. I thought I was gaining a little bit of weight, but the whole half pound I gain usually goes away in a month or so. I am 135 lbs. and 5'11 and a half feet tall. Picture it. Yeah. I wish I could show you so that you don't think that I look like a spaghetti strand. I have a scanner but never bothered to find out how it works. But then all you would get is pictures of my penis anyway. And you don't want that - Shoot, I don't know - maybe you do.

I am skinny because I have Vietnamese blood in me. My father met my mother in Vietnam. I only look like I have a little gook in me before noon. After that I open my eyes a little wider and let the sunlight in them. I don't look Ornamental at all, I don't know what happened, I guess it's my father's strong Irish genes. I grew up eating Green Rice. No, it was dog. Do you know what my first three pet's names were?

Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner.

I'm also skinny because I eat whatever the hell I want to. Steaks. Candy. Chips. Vegetables and alot of salads. I have a horrible diet and a spooky-ass-fast metabolism. That helps. I'm not even active anymore. I used to skateboard for about twelve years, and now I don't. I can, but all of my skating friends are gone. There's only Ian, and he lives in Long Beach now. Yeah, L.B.C., bitch. Home of Snoop Dog, Sublime, and uh...The Queen Mary.

I never sleep and stay up till dawn. That's another reason why I'm thin. I've always had insomnia. There's too many things that I want to do anyway. I'm lucky if I get anything done. My bursts of productivity are usually sporadic at best nowadays. If i'm forced to do something due to a deadline or a gun barrel pointed at my head, then I kick ass.

And I have 37 tape worms last time I counted.

Serious.

No. Not really.

No, I was joking - I really do have tape worms, but only 36.

Naw, I'm joking again. I don't have any. Yes I do. No I don't. Tape worm in my head? 8-track? DVD in my pants?

I'm stupid. No wonder I can't get into Natalie Portman's pants.

And do you think Molly Sims looks like a horse? That's what my friends say. I don't. I think she's kinda hotsy-totsy.

Does Molly Sims play The Sims?

Is that like me playing the Malone's?

Time for me to shut it.

I apologize. Hate me, please.

Errr...What?

I have one of the worst memories in the world.
Outside of Earth? I don't know.
How dumb of me to always say, "In the world"...
Like how do I know that?

I don't.

That's why I'm stupid.

I'm the stupidest guy in the world.

So I woke up today to a baby in the house...

It kind of threw me for a loop. I thought, "did I drink that much last night?" "Does my girlfriend have super ovaries?" "Do I have artificially intelligent mobile sperm?" I found out that my girlfriend's sister was dropping off her tyke for the day. Oh. I must say, that the little punk is totally cute. So, first thing I did was go on a walk with her while my girlfriend took a shower, but then when I got back my girlfriend refused to speak with me after she saw the leash around the baby's neck. What was I supposed to do, carry her? So then we decided to take it to the movies because there's no better way to enjoy cinema than with a young baby, right? About twenty-five minutes into Gangs Of New York though, we had to leave. I guess some people don't have any patience and their ears are way too sensitive, because a group of Scorcese geeks grabbed the screaming thing from my hands, ran out to the lobby, doused it in a vat of fake popcorn butter, and then kicked it out into the street. Bastards.

We decided to get something to eat after our horrible movie experience. While we were making reservations at a fancy-schmancy outdoor patio-type restaurant over here, I wanted to get a paper - but my hands were full with the little, wriggling thing. I got in trouble again. How was I supposed to know that the panhandler that I gave the baby to thought I was being generous? I guess babies go for alot on the Black Market. So we finally tracked the panhandler down. It was feeding our stolen baby some roasted rat, so I guess we didn't need to feed it. I had to trade my shoes to get it back. Great. There's fifty bucks down the drain....

We finally got home. Got in trouble again after my girlfriend caught me cutting hair and taking skin samples from the baby. I thought that If I could somehow learn the formula of and how to bottle Baby Smell, I could make a million dollars. So now the thing looks like an albino Mr. T with eczema.

Whatever. I'm done. Stupid babies.

Okay. I Have to go and chop off my penis.

Goodbye.

Haley's Comments...

See? Instead of me writing something right now, like I should have a long time ago - I can just post this and have you tell me how your day is going in the COMMENTS instead. Then, after I wake up and do some meaningless crud, I can write stuff that'll make you shit your pants due to it either being terribly exciting or terribly-so-fucking-boring-that-your-whole-body-just-lost-all-control-and-what's-a-case-of-the-smelly-pants-anyway?-I-can-just-blame-Kevynn-for-the-whole-situation-and-send-him-the-bill-so-who-cares?

It Seems...

Right now...all the sleep I never get?

Is catching up with me............

That, and the STD's...

Stupid Eyelids...

I have this problem. No, it's not the set of male/female sex organs that I've mentioned before. Just kidding. Dude, like I would mention it to you! I wouldn't be writing.I'd be humping myself - what d' ya think I am? Stupid? You know what? Now that I think of it - having a set of both male and female sex organs might be a tad difficult to afford. You would have to buy douche and condoms. A true gentleman cares about his vaginal hygiene. Condoms would be a necessity so as not to get one's own self preggers. And if you were a true hermaphrodite and had an uncanny piano playing ability, would that mean that you fluently played three organs? It would be a stretch not only in the pants, but in the wallet, like I said because you would have to spring for dinner for yourself, and drive a fancy car so that you could get into your own pants. Masturbation might prove to be a decisive battleground. What to do, how to, and with what? Looking into purchasing those electric shocky-pad-thingies that they use on dead people in the emergency rooms might be a wise investment, if you just stuck it down your pants and turned it on and off, maybe that'd do the trick. Check Ebay. I don't know.

See what happens? I fell asleep, by accident. I hate sleep. I was going to write about an old friend from high school.

Now I'm going to get even more weird web hits. In this post alone I've mentioned:

Male
Female
Humping
Sex Organs
Douche
Condoms
Vaginal Hygiene
Preggers
Hermephrodite
Masturbation
and Ebay.

Combine that with Fat Free Milk, and I'm going to have quite the interesting assortment of google searches cum tomorrow.

Mother would be proud.

Stupid eyelids.

One Of These Days...

I want to buy a bunch of Duraflame firelogs and light them all, and spell out something to a passing plane. I dont know what. But I want to do it.

And I won't make the same mistake that Gilligan made in the episode when the castaways used Mr. Howell's brandy to light some palm tree trunks on fire. For some reason, astronauts were orbiting low, the Professor figured out that they would be seen, so they spelled out SOS. Gilligan did something stupid and messed it up so that it spelled out SOL - which was the name of one of the passing astronauts.

I could be lazy and just spell out a bad word. But then Gilligan might mess that up too, and the passing plane would wonder why I spelled out "Fork You".

I've Got A Bad Feeling About This...

You ever have one of those days when you just dont feel so fresh inside? That's why I use...just kidding. No, this isn't about douche. It may be the written equivalent of douche, I don't know. No. I was going to to say that's it's dark now. Daytime is done. I didn't do much. Little things. Nothing special. But you ever have one of those days that make you feel a little uneasy? Like you've forgotten something important? That something is wrong or that something bad might happen? It makes me feel weird, yo.

And these feelings can't be associated with poo, because I just did that - and my sense of foreboding is still here.

Aliens Don't Need Jamie Escalante To Teach Their Children Calculus...

If intelligent life exists somewhere else in the universe, have they visited Earth?
Some say they have repeatedly in the past. Some say they are monitoring us presently.
Some say they live among us. Some say they secretly run the world. Some say they want our world for themselves.

Are we being studied?

And if we are, why haven't they made their presence known in a more direct manner?
If people believe in omnipotent, all-seeing, all-creating gods, and devils with cloven feet and pitchforks - why not believe in skinny, big-eyed aliens playing on planet Earth?
Why aren't aliens knocking on our door with pamphlets containing something other than Mormon literature? Why aren't beings from another world spamming me? Where are my extraterrestrial pop up ads?

If aliens exist, why aren't they fucking the shit up?

Because everybody knows that you shouldn't knock on the glass. You shouldn't stick your fingers in the water too much - especially without washing them. It's better for the fish if you just sit back and look at them.

Because you feel a little guilty riling up the ant hill.

Because you never know what you're going to catch playing with stray animals.

Because if you pay too much attention to them, they'll follow you home.

Because if you play with them too much, the mother will smell you on them and then abandon them.

Because nobody likes to break up a dog fight.

Titles I Didn't Use For This Post...


Shop Smart...Shop...S-Mart...
My Pig Brick...
The Hitchhikers Guide To Your Moms House...
The Fucked And The Furious...
Axe Deodarant Body Spray For Men...

Frodo Lives...

My writing has been ultimate-sucky-poo-poo lately. Even more so than usual, I mean.
I promise to do better. I swear. No, really. I mean it. I really do. I've just been busy.

My New Years Resolution is to not feed you bloggy-crap.

And to say, Penis. Tits. Fuck. Young. Old. Sucking. Mothers. Free. Iraq. Mac. Apple. MSN. Star Wars. Brittney Spears. Joe Millionaire. Download. Porn. Movies. Micheal Jackson. and. Anal.

In order to get more web hits.

Love,

Kevynn Malone

The Possiblities...

I don't remember how I found this, but it's interesting for a short bit. Apparently this guy hooked up various lights and knickknacks around his house to the internet. Too bad he didn't take it to the extreme. I'd like to see a house that was controlled by random freaks on the internet more. Imagine how annoying it would be to go to the bathroom if some freak in Kansas kept on turning the light off on you. Or if you had to wade through a sea of dildos hanging from the ceiling -everybody else has those too, right? - You know, those dildos hanging from the ceiling that give out electric shocks? What? I don't know. I'd like to see somebody's computers and tv's turned on at full volume in the middle of the night. How about controlling somebody's thermostat? How about I shut up because this was a stupid post and go ahead already and check out the guy sitting in front of his computer, turn his lights on and off, be entertained for 57 seconds and then go back to looking at porn.

Remember to send me the good stuff.

Work Is Good For Something...

Use their high speed internet connection and check out this...
I'd watch more commercials if I could see them this way.

That sucked...

I was talking about my girlfriend's reactions to the movie Wild At Heart. I talked about Sailor Ripley smashing that guys head at the beginning. My girlfriend said, "oh!" I talked about the soundtrack and how good it is and how I always loan out crap to people and they never give it back. My memory is horrible, so I tend to forget. So I said that I gave up trying to share things with friends. Let them focus on their overcooked McDonalds hamburgers and pregnancy test results instead. I told you that I went to the grocery store after work and that I've noticed that I spend most of my money on liquids. Cleaning products, liquid detergents, bleach, beer, cigarettes don't count even if it is expensive-lung cancer-air-stuff. Beer? I'll stop buying it when you stop watching J-LO movies, beating your children, and smoking your crack.

And...i forget what else I was talking about before blogger made my previous post disappear. (I have a horrible memory, remember?)

So...got any old receipts from your last grocery store visit?
Or what did you buy last time you were there?

No. Porn doesn't count Fucktard.

Shong Story Lort...

Woke up.
Work.
After, I had about fifteen minutes until friends arrived for our spur-of-the-moment-dinner-thingy.
We ate.
We drank.
We played UNO.
We talked to my robot.
(he's included in my LINKS section, y'know.)
Then our friends left.
Then WE ate...
I drank...
and then told you about...
When I...
Woke up.
I said talked about...
Work.
Then I said...
After, I had about fifteen minutes until friends arrived for our spur-of-the-moment-dinner-thingy.
And then I told you about how...
We ate.
And how...
We drank.
And how...
We played UNO.
And how...
We talked to my robot.
(he's included in my LINKS section, y'know.)
Then our friends left.
Then WE ate...
and I drank...
some more...


Mommy.

Save me.

Mein head...

How do you say "head" in German? Forget it. I don't want to know how to speak German anyway. I'll never go there, and the only German people that I've ever known were friends of my neighbors. They wanted to take my cat home with them.

Today, I was taking out the trash. I was walking to the backyard and one of my neighbors was walking down his steps. I said hi and scared the shit out of him. That's normal because I walk like a ninja and can be quite stealthy, but he had to stop and compose himself afterwards. I guess the night before his roommate had to call the cops because a couple of white-trash transients were hanging out in front of the Hollywood video threatening two little black girls, calling them Jigaboo and telling them that they had a gun. So the cops came, etc. I guess he saw the same white-trash car across the street today, so they were both talking about it, then one of my neighbors goes outside and sees me with my newly shaven head. Mr. Speed Freak Lookin' Skinhead. Giving him a heart attack.

Do skinheads smoke Marlboro light 100's?

I think not.
Carry on.

Go away, Hitler - there's no Germany here...

God(s), Help Me But...

Wouldn't it be alot cooler if strippers gave you ham sandwiches and an ice cold Coke too?

Y?...

Do I get the feeling that I'm going to hate every single moment of today?

And why do I get the feeling that I might get devoured by rats in my sleep?

Ewok Village...

I don't live out in the sticks. I don't live in a small city either,
but damn-we have some big, fuckin' racoons here.
They must live in the monstrous palm tree that I've got by the side of my house. There's four of them. All are about the size of a medium-size dog. I'm not kidding. Last night they woke me up four times because they were playing on the roof. After the last time, I went outside to scare them away. There were two of them. They flicked their cigarette butts at me so I went back inside.

I'm scared they're gonna mug me and take all of my shiny objects.

Wake Up, Donnie...

I suck. I have eleven HBO channels.
It was cheap though, so shut it.
Anyway, certain movies are always on.
Some are sort of recent, like the first Harry Potter, Sexy Beast, etc.
But this morning they had Donnie Darko on. I've seen it once before and liked it alot.
But, check this out? I like the movie, okay? Strange that I've never seen HBO play the movie before on any of its million channels. Why New Years Day out of all days? And guess what they followed it up with? BOOTY CALL! Hmmm...so does this mean that somebody up in Content or programming thought this up?

- Okay. All of America will have a hang over, so we'll put on a good movie while no one can see it.

- Yeah, that sounds great. And then after it's done, we'll put on something with Bell Belamey.

- Perfect!

HBO, explain your choices please.

It Looks Pretty Good, So Far...

Standing in the middle of a blocked-off street in front of a bar last night. Fireworks going off. Looking at how bright the whole shindig was. Wondering if something was going to catch fire. Looking at the cops. Wanting to wish them a Happy New Year, but thinking that might make their night worse and that they might think that I was being weird.Tons of bozos at a bar across the street making fools of themselves. The whole celebratory New Years thing is stupid. Amateur drinkers not-counting down in unison and blowing horns because 365 days have passed. My girlfriend wishing everybody a Happy New Year on her cel phone until I told her to turn it off. A couple of young boys on roller blades sped by really fast. They had on glowing head bands and backpacks. The taller one tried to duck under a police barricade and fell on his ass and broke the whole barrcicade, The cops stood there looking at him while the bar across the street laughed like a bunch of monkeys. I could see it happening and was so glad that it did. I could smell a riot coming on, so I made my girlfriend go back inside. We then wasted more money on drinks.

After all of the bars, friends went to Tony and Chris' place. It was winding down. Various folk and my girlfriend asleep in various spots around the apartment. I was playing video games with Joe. I got up. Went to the bathroom, and then came back out with no hair and a shaved head that looks like a monkey's ass.

Then we went to Denny's.

Like I said, It looks pretty good so far.