Jesus Worked Out...

My friend Baxter says that Jesus had a swimmer's body. Then did he play water polo? I don't think that there's a chance in hell that Jesus swam. He obviously didn't like water. Have you seen him? Not lately, I meant in pictures. He looks kind of dirty. Some of that weird soap that I just bought would've done him good. Jesus needed a good razor and a gay hairdresser friend.

See, now look at Buddha. Nice. Clean.

I bet Buddha smelled good.

Who Put The Boop In The Boop-Dee-Boop-Dee-Boop?...

And who put the Jesus in my soap? Okay, get ready...I bought some steaks and green beans for dinner, right? I also needed some more soap to wash my stinky butt with. So I went to the healthy hippie section where I get my Toms Of Maine toothpaste from and picked up "Dr. Bronner's Magic Soaps All-One Hemp Vera Baby-Mild Pure-Castille Soap. serious. That's what it's called. Figured it was worth a shot and better than all the usual perfumey crud I usually buy that drives my skin nuts. I opened it up in the shower and started to read the label...

Cruelty free, not animal tested, post-consumer recycled paper, blah blah.

And then I started to read the inside of the wrapper. Notable quotes from the Moral ABC? What the hell? Edison? Booker T. Washington? Mohammed? Confucius? And Bronner? Who the hell is that? And how come most of them were god-ish quotes? That sucked! And of course, the soap sucked. It felt like I was rubbing somebodys heel against my arm. What did I just say?

Screw the Jesus soap. I've been had. I feel dirty now.

*Update* Well, maybe not. I don't know.
You've got to read this article. It's crazy.

Apathetic Nnyvek...

Oh. I get it.
Once, I stop caring about the comments section -
it starts to work again. I see now.
Well, I also don't care about money

...eh?

Nothing happened.

As If It Being Fucking Monday Wasn't Enough...

I bring you this...and I apologize in advance.

p.s. AND I am very close to ditching stupid-ass-never-working Haloscan because my comments never work. What the hell am I paying them for? Oh wait, I get it for free. Well, who cares? They can suck it. All a bunch of bastards, they are.

Transvestite. Schmanzmestite. Comic Book. Nothing Else Of Importance...

I like Planetary and Eddie Izzard.

Not at the same time.

Thank you.

Walt Disney’s Head Part 3...

Time went by quick too. That never used to happen before. I was standing in line at Star Tours. I was at the part where you're waiting to step into the "spaceship". When I was young, the whole minute you used to have to wait until the doors opened was agonizingly slow. I would watch the time tick away on the tv screen. Every second seemed like an eternity. Now, what's a minute to an adult? We know the DMV, okay? We know what it is to wait to speak with a human when calling the bank. One minute to wait at Disneyland? Lick it.

I spent a lot of money, but not that much. That's another thing that's different now. I've spent six bucks on a domestic beer in L.A. What's a $2.75 soda? Dinner was $25.00, not bad for two people. The only thing that I bought was this. My girlfriend didn't buy anything. She just went snack crazy. Did I mention how fat everybody was? Did I mention the myriad assortment of stupid hats that everybody was wearing? Did I mention the lap dance I got from Walt's head? Did I mention that I need to go back soon drunk?

I'm bringing cigars.

Walt Disney’s Head Part 2…

So. Everybody’s fat. Their children too. You can’t pay me enough money to wear mouse ears. I didn’t see Mickey Mouse, so I couldn’t punch him in the asshole in front of a crowd. I had to duck down into the shops in Adventure Island because the store awnings kept hitting me in the face. A young employee girl asked me to put out my cigarette please, this was a non-smoking section, there were smoking sections marked throughout the park. I said okay, thanks. I asked where should I put it out? She said, where do you usually put it out? I looked at her to see if she was trying to be sassy. I said, in an ashtray? And gave her a look. She said maybe I could just throw it on the floor. I said that I didn’t want to litter. I should’ve punched her in the asshole with a fistful of cigarettes.

Mo’ Later…

Walt Disney’s Head Part 1…

So I went to Disneyland and survived. I wasn’t bombed. A plane didn’t crash into the Matterhorn. I was searched when I entered the park, but they felt me up with Mickey Mouse gloves, so it was actually quite pleasurable. First thing that we did was not go into Great Moments With Mr. Lincoln. After that she bought a big pickle while I looked for a bathroom for my big pickle. It was weird. I expected a crap load of people to be there considering it was Valentine’s Day, but the crowds were tolerable. Lines were short.

It was a strange experience, though. I live pretty close. I don’t want you to think that I live in Anaheim because Anaheim generally sucks. I try not to go into the city because I don’t ever really have a need to. I’ve probably only been to Disneyland eight times in my life. The last time I went was probably seven years ago.

Here’s a thing. It seems weird, but this is what I felt when I was walking through and going on the rides and stuff. Everything is a lot smaller than I remember. I guess, I haven’t grown that much since then. I’ve still been the same size. Mr. Kevynn equals the same 5 foot 11, 135 lbs. off messy mess as always. Why would everything seem smaller to me? I don’t know why, but it did.

Mo' later today.......

If I Was A Scar...

I'd want to be Tina Fey's.

John Cusack And Molly Ringwald...

Did they ever do a movie with each other? Just wondering. Maybe I'm forgetting.

Where's John been anyway? What has he done for me lately?

And Molly? I saw her in Not Another Teen Movie...she still looks the same.

Is that good or bad?

I still do too, maybe I should ask myself the same question...

Take on me...

Two Worst Things In The World...

The Disney Corporation and Religous fanaticism.

I'm going to Disneyland tomorrow.
I hope my girlfriend and I don't get blown to smithereens in a terrorist plot.
I would like to see Mickey on fire, though.

So, if you never hear from me again, you know where I went.

I'm Going To Hell...

Coming back from the comic book store. I walked out and heard a crunch. I looked around and saw a big red truck pulling out of its parking space and it crunched a purple truck as it was coming out. I started to walk towards the red truck and then it took off. I thought I may have imagined the sound, but why would I think that? So then I went in my car and to the video store. I rented The Good Girl, Igby Goes Down, and My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Should I have tried to chase down the red truck? Asked anybody in the comic book store if they had a purple truck? Should I have actually checked it out to see if it really got hit? I didn't do anything. So, was I an irresponsible citizen? Did the rain distort my vision? Will karma kick my butt? Am I going to hell?

Or am I just going to hell because I rented My Big Fat Greek Wedding?

Reverse King Midas Effect...

First pet, I think? Was a dog back in Texas when I was a wee lad, and my father was working for U.S. Customs Border Patrol. His name was Jesus, but we just called him Chewy for short. The dog. Not my father. he was tiny and black. The dog. Not my father. I don't know where we got him from. But he escaped. Either that or my mother ate him. The dog. Not my father.

We also had some pet ducks...I remember chasing them around the backyard. One day, I saw my mother running after them. My older brother and father were laughing. Funny thing was that my mother had a meat cleaver in her hand and was trying to grab one of them. I remember seeing the ducks trying to fly. They can't really go that high. Finally, my mother got a hold of one of their necks. My father told me not to look. I did. She walked towards my father with the ducks heads in her hands. The bodies were flapping behind her. I'm not kidding.

My Grandmother, Bubba...I'm not kidding here either - died when I was fairly young. But I remember Bubba staying with us when we moved back to So Cal after she had a particularly nasty fall at her house in Texas. She brought her two dogs with her. Bonnie and Laddie. Nice Collie dogs. My sis, Sindy, wasn't allowed outside because she was a wee bitch and would get knocked the fuck out by the dogs whenever she stepped outside. Eventually we had to give the dogs away. Bubba cried. I was sad. My mother was still around and was probably mad that she didn't get to eat them.

After the divorce and when my father was single, pets were out of the question. All of us kids would've been too, if he could've gotten away with it. No dogs. No cats. Even though we lived in a neighborhood around horses, ponies, more ducks, peacocks, skunks, possums, crows, and coyotes. We eventually got a couple parakeets, which my older brother let, fly away. We had a big Oscar fish that ate all of the others. We had Neon Tetras that got sucked up in the water filter. We had an Angelfish that stuck it's fucking nose up to the heat lamp and got stuck up to it, burned, and then died...My mother wasn't responsible for the death or consumption of any of these. She was too far away. Thank god. I'm not too keen on eating things that taste like aquarium water.

All attempts to get a dog were shot down by dear ol' dad in my teenage years. I did have a lizard that we captured in the backyard and put in a tank, but then we went on vacation and I came back to watch all of the ants crawl out of his eyes. His name was Snake. I named my lizard, Snake. I call my penis a lizard now, though. So I guess it all makes sense in some weird way...I think.

When I moved out on my eighteenth birthday...Oh wait, did I say moved? Sorry, I meant to say when I got booted the hell out of my father's house, I could own all of the pets that I wanted...but who wants to hear about my young, dating history? I had a lot of roaches in the first couple of houses. They weren't like pets, though. They were like very, very, bad dogs. Just really tiny and a lot scarier. You never have to feed them, though. That's cool. They can be nibbling on your skin flakes while you're eating cornflakes in the morning.

Various roommates had pets, but that doesn't count, because they weren't mine. What was my first pet? MY pet? Besides your mom? I was living at the Amerige House. No, that's not a boy's home or a mental institution - It's just what me and my various roommates called a house that I lived in for two or three years from...19-21. That's when I met Hannah, my roomie April got her. I had a Beta fish that I felt sorry for when I saw it in a Dixie cup at stupid Pet City. His name was Jabba The Fish. I used to keep his bowl by the floor heater when it got cold. A drunk girl kicked him into it. Goodbye Jabba. Hello fish smell for months. Another roommate had a turtle named Melvin? He got wedged under his little floaty thing in the tank. He died. I buried him in the backyard and we had a funeral. I played a song for him on the guitar and tipped my 40 0z. of Coors onto his grave. My turtle homie. Then after the Amerige House, I moved into The dumb ass Streams Apartments and April lived in the same complex. She'd bring over Hannah for visits and then when April broke up with her boyfriend, I had to keep her. The cat. Not April. When April wanted her back, she couldn't have her. My mom either. Hannah the cat was mine.

My older half brother, Chris, and I, were coming back from The Museum Of Tolerance in L.A. Traffic happened to stop on the freeway. My brother started to yell at Chris to Pick it up! Pick it up! Nobody was dancing or doing military drills in the car, so I was confused. Chris got out and came back with what I thought was a little piece of gray clothing. It was a bloody, pregnant cat named now...60. See, I'm clever, eh? Not really.

Anne couldn't keep her cat Salvador when she had to move to Long Beach. So, I had to in this house.. Salvador was big and dumb, but lovey dovey cool for a shit head. I woke up one morning to a jogger at my doorstep. Do you have a black and white cat? I croaked yes and spent my remaining morning hours digging through tree roots in the backyard that I have now. Poor guy. I had to install an electric fence around his grave just in case my mother ever decides to visit me.

Hannah was too crazy to keep inside. So I let her roam around the backyard and the neighborhood. Sometimes I wouldn't see her for a bit, but all I'd have to do is call her name and she'd eventually come back to me and kick back. One day it came to about a week and I started to get worried. She's gone now. Maybe a coyote got her from the park across the street. Maybe it was one of the Raccoons that we have living up in the palm tree. Or the Possum family? I hope somebody adopted her, but I doubt it. You couldn't keep that sweet, little bitch inside for more than a day. Maybe my mom has a cat whistle.

Now I still have 60. Who is dumb. Great, but dumb. Sweet, though. I have Jane, my girlfriend's fat ass cat. She sucks and is the stupidest thing that I've ever seen. She's on a diet. We have a turtle. He's boring. We have plants. I have my friends. They're just about as animalistic as anything can get. I don't have to groom or feed them, they fend for themselves. So it's all Kool And The Gang.

I have my girlfriend. She requires lots of attention..

I do miss Hannah, though.


That's it.


*sniff sniff *


Pigfuckers.

Pet Sounds...

Ruff!
Meow!
Moo!
Hissssssss!
Snarf!

Just Kidding....

My Drunk Post...


Does anyone else fall asleep to Empire Strikes Back?
I'll be dreaming about Amazing Spiderman issue fifty that's going to be coming out soon.
Trying to keep warm?
Dreading work?
Thinking about death?
About life?
About money?
And your sweet ass?
I want to dangle babies over balconies in my dreams.
I want to forget about your face.
I want to forget about your feces.
I don't ever want to face your feces.
I don't ever want to eat Reeses Feces.
If I ever met E.T., I'd expect him to be rich and to buy me a drink.
If I ever met Elliot, I'd ask him where Gertie was.
If I ever met Tom Green, I'd probably skate with him and never ask him anything after that.
If I ever met you, I'd be scared.
If you ever met me, You'd be scared.
If you ever met me, you'd know that I never get enough sleep.
If the world was a light bulb, I'd be the thin, wire filament glowing and fading in the center of it all.
If time was any faster, I'd be pissed.
If time was any slower, I'd be pissed.
I am aware that Gene Hackman played Lex Luthor.
I am aware that Billy Dean Williams was in both Batman and Empire Strikes Back.
I am aware that The guy who played Jek Porkins in Star Wars was in Batman also.
I am wary of the new Daredevil movie.
I am horny for Jennifer Garner.
Jennifer Garner is not horny for me.
I am in fear of Valentines Day.
I am scared of fat cupids.
I am scared and sacred.


Goodnight/day, punks.

Sorry.

Hey Pig...

I know it's really bad for me, but I really like bacon.

Porn too, but porn isn't high in sodium...

It's just lacking in moral fiber.

Big-Headed Monster...

I'm spoiled. I don't have to get up as early as I'm used to for my current job. I sleep in on weekends now. I must be getting old because I like to watch Saturday and Sunday morning cartoons, but I just can't do it no mo'. This morning I slept away, whined at my productive girlfriend's noise level, and then finally moved all of the covers from the bed to the couch. She was watching some horrible Charlie Sheen movie. Like there's only one, right? Then she left and I watched The Majestic. I didn't expect to like it, and wasn't going to watch it - but I was too lazy to get up. I actually kind of liked it. Then I started to watch an Ashley Judd movie, but grew tired of trying to figure out if she was hot or not. I wrestled various human food products away from our fat ass cat. Talked on the phone. I dried my girlfriend’s laundry for her while she was at work and realized that I was daydreaming in the backyard with a handful of her panties in my hand. I took out six bags of trash. Six. I don't know where it comes from, but I swear, we seem to accumulate more waste than your mom. I read some of my Chuck Palahniuk book and performed a movement in the bathroom Beethoven would've been proud of. I returned some phone calls, but still managed somehow to not call any of family. I'm bad; it takes me weeks to get back to them.

So when I called back Joe, he asked if I could do him a favor.

I just bought a TV off of someone from work. Do you think you could keep it for me for a while?

Two hours later, during the NBA All-Star game, Joe and Chris came over with it. It's thirty-six inches and now in my living room. After I hooked it up, I screamed because I saw a commercial with John Madden in it and his unusually gigantic head was now even bigger. I started to cry, but then Joe told me that his co-worker also asked if he wanted any free beer. I shut up. Then we ordered a pizza and watched an HBO special on cannibalism.

Hmmmm...do you mind if I use up your space with a big TV, give you forty beers, and buy some pizza? Remind me never to complain about anything.

To quote Ice Cube - Today Was A Good Day...

Cry Me A River...

Yes, I've been listening to that song by Justin Timberlake.

I'm sorry.

Please forgive me.

Toon Town...

Yes, I did go out last night. And yes, I did go see Bridget The Midget from The Howard Stern Show play in a punk rock band. Yes, I did drink way too much. And yes, I did have tons o' fun.

And no, I didn't really see her that well.

She was too short.

My God!...

It smells like farts in here.
My girlfriend made deviled eggs this morning.
Why do eggs smell like farts anyway?
Why don't beans smell like farts?

Do you have any Spiderman comics lying around?

I'll trade you something for them.
Maybe I'll draw you a picture or write a horrible poem.

Really. Cross my heart.

Cool Keith...

Greatest influence in my life?

No, not Liam Gallagher, Rama, Osiris, Gwen Stacey or Boz of The Grand Ennui.
Not that big guy up above either. No, not that jerk - I was talking about Charles Lindbergh. That was a stupid joke.

Anyway...the single, greatest influence I've ever had in my life, was a friend that I had when I was five or something. Ackward sentence? Yes. My father used to drop me off at his house and Keith's mother would babysit us. I don't remember how my father knew Keith's mom. Keith's mom was pretty cool as far as I can remember. And what really qualifies as cool to a five year old? Did she let me watch shitty kung-fu movies? Did she make me grilled cheese sandwiches with the crusts cut off? Did she let me make out with her? Did she teach me how to write? Obviously, no. Whatever. She was cool, punk.

I had so much fun with Keith. He had alot of energy. We'd run around in the backyard, play hide and seek, bulid Lego towers and smash them down with our heads, we would scream alot. Out loud, out the window, at the mom, at the moon, whatever. She'd just laugh.

My father never understood me for the genius that I was. He'd get mad at me all of the time. I was always in trouble for something stupid that I did. I'd chop some furniture up with a kitchen knife or rip off all of my clothes in the night. I had an older brother to egg me on. He thought I was funny. So, if somebody else thinks I'm funny, that makes me funny, right? And I should continue, right?

What this boils down to is that my father started to notice that I was starting to act even stupider than normal. He said that I started making up my own language and then I taught it to my older brother. Now, not only did he have one idiot speaking idiot nonsense - he had two little idiots running around speaking gibberish. We stopped playing with our toys normally. We would just nudge them around or stare at them. My father had to re-teach us how to speak and how to play with toys like normal children. My father finally found out that Keith was retarded and I slowly stopped being dropped off at his house. And that was it. i don't know what happened to Keith or his cool mom. I don't know what type of explanation that my father finally gave. All that I know is that Keith was more fun than many of the people that I met years after that, and more honest.

Yeah, he was retarded.
I am too.
So are you.
My girlfriend has been vacuuming the house.
This story was poopy.

Goodbye.

Can You Hear Me Now?...

Watching a commercial for Sprint? with Little Richard. Not to be mean or anything, but I was thinking...why Little Richard? He's wacky, cool and all, and wrote some kick ass songs back in the day - but if I had the chance to see a rock and roll legend in a commercial, I'd rather see tons of different people. Morrison, Tom Waits...George Harrison? Shit, even Ringo Starr...wait, what am i saying?

God bless Little Richard.

I Like To Climb Trees...

Listening to The Pixies and waiting for The Michael Jackson two hour special on ABC...

Very content.

Okay, I Have An Idea...

I will write this post, and then when you comment - I will assign a movie for you to watch based on how well I do or don't know you based upon your website or my uncanny Charles Xavier-like psychic powers. Then...nothing, I guess. Just let me know how much you hated it. My girlfriend is asleep on the couch, also......Reese Witherspoon is being really short on TV, My teeth hurt from the dentist today. Remind me to cancel my appointment for next week, because we have to go to Disneyland to take pictures for our annual passes. It was a gift from me to her, so now I have to get one.

Oh, I'm going with my girlfriend - not Reese Witherspoon. She can go if she wants. She just can't bring her punk-ass husband.

I'm gonna punch Mickey in the asshole too.

Peter Parker...

Call me geeky...c'mon...okay...I managed to get back the comments that were erased by Haloscan's server bullshit. It took some time, trust me. Am I a genius or not? Probably not. BUT, I managed to erase all of the comments you posted today. Oh well. Sorry. I know it's not that big of a deal. We all need lives, but it does suck when you take the time to post funny "ha ha" on somebody else's funy "ha ha" and then come back to nuthin'. It's not my fault. I changed the color of the comments box-thingy too. That's what probably erased the most recent crapola. As a trade, I think it's not that bad. You can post again or I can tell you what you said. No I can't. I am devoid of recollective thought processes.

What am I saying again?

Oh yeah, sorry for the geeky post. This is not my thing. Neither is your mom.

Wubba Wubba Wubba, Downtown Julie Brown signing out.