Gucci Little Piggy...

So, we're about ready to get out of here. We don't know what we're goibng to do. goibng? What is that? Anyway, we're going out. You can come if you have money and I nice rack. Sorry about that. I'm just typing what my friend Chris who looks like Branden Fraser is thinking. He'd like me to go to a strip club tonight, but that's not exavctly my thing and I wouldn't want to waste the money on that type of thing anyway. I mean, what would I be going for? Boobs are nice, but porn is cheaper. Ha.

I know that I'll probably type when I get home. I'll probably tell you about all of the wacky hijinks that ensued. Hmmmm....I'll bring my little Moleskin notebook thing. Let me grab it right now. Okay, I'm good. Wish us luck. Hope that we find a genie in a bottle, or at least Christina Aguilera so that we could punch her in her dirty little crotch. Spellcheck is so last year. Fo'getit.

What Did E.T. Tell Elliott Before He Left?...

Forgetting what I was going to write about. Couldn't of been that important, could it? Who want's to come on over and rub my eyelids for me? Do it. I'll give you a dollar. I'm serious. It's almost my birthday, are we going camping? Do I care? Nope. Send me a package of tiny musicians. I want to let them run around by the computer, and then when I get sick of them - I'll coat them with sugar and unleash a hive of bees on them.

Am I mean? Yes.

Do I care? No.

Oh, it's just one of those times where you planned on
coming home straight after work and doing a bunch of productive things,
but you really ended up at home at 3 in the morning.
How does this happen?
Damn, I'm tired.
I don't know.

Fat Free and one friend would
be at the trash and then
turned it would think possessed.
I think And my girlfriend. goes
unnoticed. it, so shut it.
just spending my conscience.

Courtesy of Rob's Amazing Poem Generator.

Ashton Kutcher And Demi Moore...

So, six guys made salsa at my house tonight. Is that gay? No, I didn't hire them or anything. No, they weren't naked and wearing nothing but aprons and chef hats. They were friends. The salsa was my idea. And no, we weren't at my house salsa dancing with each other. It just seemd like a good idea at the time. I made enough to feed a small army of Pancho Villa's, though. So, if you're hankering for some fire-burnin', sniffly-nosed good stuff, just come on over - I've got a half-full bowl of the goodness, some pot that some guy gave me last night even though I don't smoke it, MUSE is playing on the stereo, I have an ample amount of pussy-ass light beers, some fake buttery microwave popcorn, Coca Colas, and a scary movie to watch. You just let me know.

Thank you, Thank you.

I'll be here all night.

Please remember to tip your waitress...

The Obligatory Post-Bartending Shift Entry...

I think that the worst thing that one can do, is drink a lot and act like an idiot. I'm just to tired to tell you all of the stupis-ass things that I saw drunk people do tonight. Please don't talk politics either. Can you please yell at each other about something else? Whatever you think - somebody has said it before. Your opinion is not unique. Your statements are selfish and boring. Talking about politics is like having a theological discussion. Dude, kill me. This is why I don't talk about any of that stuff anymore to people. I've said it all before. It makes me ill, it's like flies buzzing around behind my eyes and static in my ears. Please, don't do it. Also, making out and/or arguing with your significant other isn't allowed either. You can only show me how much you're both in love, if I get to take your wallet and follow you home and hump your dog.

Oh. I don't like your stupid drinks either. I'm glad that you tip me, otherwise I wouldn't be making the shit. Everybody drink beer. I like to twist off caps or open them with the opener thingy. I like this system. Let's keep it. It takes me a whole two seconds. I can deal with this. Now shut up and drink your beer. I'm glad that you young people come to the bar too. Usually you're better to look at. You seem to tip better. But you need to learn how to fucking drink. Oh, and also? If you have no money Indie kid? Go away. What the hell are you doing here? Go read music magazines at home. Jack off to Pete Yorn and Blonde Redhead.

I took a taxi home tonight, isn't that funny? I felt kind of bad. The whole ride only cost about five bucks, so I tipped him six. I loved his middle-eastern music. I really would have loved to have him crank it up, I could roll down the windows, light up a smoke and just sing along. I didn't think about that until just now. That would've been nice. I never met a taxi cab driver that I didn't like. With the exception of those that drive in Tijuana. But that doesn't count because that's the worst place in the world. Don'y bomb Iraq - bomb fucking TJ. The only good thing about that place back in high school was...oh...nothing!

I'm not going to speelcheck this. I think that we can both handle it. I want a bow and aroow set. Right now. I want to stand out in my backyard, drink beers and shoot arrows. That's what I want to do. Make this happen please.

If you really love me, you'd send me to my room right now......

Not The One With Sandra Bullock In It...

I've been waiting for this movie for a long time.
Zombies!
Poor monkeys...

I Give Up...

I have the worst sense of direction ever. Freeways scare the shit out of me, and I have no idea where anything is. I know how retarded I am, so shut it. But, I hit an all time low today. Lower than the time when I was coming back from an ex girlfriends house, took one wrong freeway exit, and an hour later wound up at Ontario airport. TODAY, I took a wrong turn while trying to go to AAA ( not AA ) to get my new registration, and I ended up on a freeway. Took the first exit off, and wound up at the parking lot entrances of.........DISNEYLAND. Yeah.

I had the urge to pay for parking and just chill the fuck out, but I had too much to do.

Disneyland.

Bwahh Haaaaa...

Is Sharon Osbourne hot?

I think she is.

No, I'm sorry. P. Diddy is hotter.

What's A Penny Made Out Of?...

Yup. They impounded my car. It's my own fault really. I was going to finally pay my registration right before I threw myself out of a car. Hmmm... on my lunch breal, I'll have to go get new insurance, go to the DMV on Monday, then back to the police department, then to the impound. I'm calculating it to be about 600 bucks. Which I dont have. Well, I have money in the bank, but most of that's already owed to bills. I picked up another shift tomorrow night and one on Saturday night. I'll have to miss girls night out. All of the girls invited one boy out for girl's night out. Me. Oh well. And I work my bartending shift on Sunday night.

I'm telling you, I was really having a good day. There was a bounce to my step. I had a big smile on my face. I was paying bills and everything. Things always hit you when you're guard is down. Oh well, the sooner shit happens, the sooner that you can deal with it. I love you. Now I am going to drink beers and watch The MTV Movie Awards with friends. Fun.

Please send your donations to Lick My Butt, Sunny Southern California. The United States. Earth.

And I Was Having Such A Good Day...

So, do you think that my car was stolen or towed because of my registration?

I'm waiting to find out after walking home from work.

FUCK!

Humps and pumps and four-eyed chumps...

xoxo
Choppalicious

Marshall Mathers…

I think that I just commited a major sin. I just chucked a bunch of leftover M&M’s down the sink. It’s not as bad as when I stuffed that dying crawdad down the garbage disposal and then turned it on. It was a mercy killing. I liberated him from work the week before. Which is worse? The M&M's weren't dying, but they were getting old.

A Wolf At The Door…

Recently, Amy Choppa and I were talking about favorite books of childhood...

Super Fudge.
Sheila The Great.
Beezus And Romona.
The Chronicles Of Narnia.
Henry And Ribsy.
The White Mountains.
Have you ever heard of anything called The Great Brain?
Encyclopedia Brown.
A Cricket In Times Square.
The Great Mouse Caper.
Where The Red Fern Grows.
The Bridge To Taribithia.
Dragons Blood.
The Trolley Car Family.
Swiss Family Robinson.
Runaway Ralph And The Mouse And The Motorcycle.
Otherwise Known As Sheila The Great.
Are You There God, It's Me Margaret?
Hustler.

Anyway, one of my favorite books of all time was The Brothers Lionheart, by Astrid Lindgren. She was the gal who wrote all of the Pippi Longstocking books. All of those were good, but this one was completely different. It was about two brothers, and one of them died, and it was about fantasy worlds in different dimensions and all of that. It's out of print. I tried to order it for years. One of the libraries in the neighboring cities had a copy when I was in high school, but I never could bear the guilt of denying the one kid out of the thousand that might pick it up, the chance to read it. I must've read that book at least six times in between the ages of seven and ten.

I just found a copy of it online. And now I'm going to read it. Hell yeah. But I'm scared. You know how it is. Stuff sometimes doesn't fare well versus the nostalgic power in your head. But, oh well...It doesn't matter. I'm going to transport myself back in time. To reading books in the big, ol' house where I grew up in. To this big, ol' house that I'm currently growing up in. Just now, I have a beer nearby instead of glass of Kool-Aid.

Rabbit In Your Headlights...

I love fucking salads. Not to have intercourse with, I mean that I love eating salads.
I've got pepperoni, pickles, and parmesan cheese in it, yo.
I will eat this beautiful salad as I watch The Big Lebowski.
Jealous? Yes. This is my post about salad.

Thank you.

2 + 2 = 5 . . .

Sometimes I leave my home, take money out of the bank, and then go to the bar.
Sometimes, I leave the bar, deposit money in the bank...and then go home.

We Suck Young Blood...

I think my fucking head is going to blow up. It's simmering low, but getting warmer. Psssshhhhhhh...you hear that? Tiny, little Don Ho bubbles comin' to get me. I have to call April and tell her that I can't go see Finding Pixar Fish with Colin, the four-year-old boy wonder. He came over on Thursday with his dad/my friend, Jamal - who isn't black but looks exactly like Jason Lee. Jason Lee who isn't Chinese. Thank god, or else I'd have to boycott his existence for using slave labor to make my Star Wars toys and for practically wiping out the Tibetan culture. Four-year-old Colin came over with Jamal, and we shot the shit. I gave Colin a Wolverine Pez. That's how nerdy I am. I just have shit like that laying around. Good for kids. Bad for twenty-seven-year olds. My girlfriend left London. Where is she now? I just checked, she's in Paris. Paris sounds like a planet's name. It is like a planet, isn't it? I wouldn't know. I've traveled all over the U.S., but never been outside of the country. Well, Mexico. But that doesn't count. Mexico never counts. Mexico is hell on Earth. Chiclets are heaven. Mexico is hell on Earth.

I'm tired of working. I need to call my lil' sis back. I'm going to Austin. In July or something. Texas sucks. But at least it has Austin. And my sister's pets. She has two cats named He-Man and She-Ra. Two dogs named Miles Davis and Marvin Gaye. Yup. Joe's probably watching Adaptation right now, the bastard. People are having parties tonight. I don't feel like going. I'm lonely in this big ol' house all by myself. I feel like a mouse. Eeep.

I have too much food in the fridge. I hate to waste food. Is that why I'm thin? I'd just rather not have to deal with the guilt, so I just forego the whole experience? No, today I picked up some extra leftovers from the restaurant in hopes of seeing the schizophrenic, homeless guy, so that I could give him something else other than the usual cigarettes that I give him. I wandered around with food in my hands. Guess what? Yup. Wherethefuckishe? Damnit. I wish I could give him something useful, but what's really useful? A phone card? Then he'd talk to God, and I don't want anybody doing that shit. Leave him alone if he exists. I bet God's homeless too. God was probably rich once, but now he's wandering around and yelling at potted plants and star clusters.

I've got some clothes to give God, if I ever see him; I've got all of the food. I've got smokes, movies, and comic books. And internet access. Shit, I've got my own website. Maybe he'd want to say a few things. I know he's a better writer than me. But you don't have to be a God to be that.

I wonder if he ever says, "Me Damnit!".

I wonder...if this boat will ever stop floating...

God, I mean...Good bye...

Uggg...

Friggin' naps.
Always making me feel all Pilsbury.
Since when did I start taking naps, anyway?
It's all your fault, you shit balls...

Did You Know That Elvis Presley Had A Twin Brother?...

No, not it wasn't me. I'm not that old. Geez. I'm...how old am I? I'm 27, I think. I often forget how old I am. No, but serious, Elvis' twin brother's name was Jesse Garon Presley. He was born stillborn and they buried him in a shoebox. How crazy is that? Pretty fortunate that he died, because wouldn't you hate to be Elvis's brother? But, then maybe The Big "E" wouldn't have been a huge rock and roll, hunka, hunka, burning honky if he had to deal with an identical twin. I think that all identical twins are screwed up in some way. Who the hell would want a carbon copy of themselves stealing your shit, hogging up your space, and competing for oxygen? Not me, it was hard enough growing up with an older bro and a younger sis. I bet that somehow, it was all Colonel Parker's fault. Like, he had a pact with the devil and that he'd been shadowing Elvis' mom for years, waiting for her to pop out her twin set of little hicks. He knew of The Prophecy Of The Coming Of The Big "E", and was just waiting to whisk him away, and train him, so that he could have him perform evil deeds in order to dominate the world. Or something to that effect.

Fuck Colonel Tom Parker. He was a rat bastard.
And poor, little Jesse.

No fried banana sandwiches for him...

Oh, Now I Can Post...

Now that everybody's on their way home.
Word of advice: Only listen to classical music or opera when stuck in a traffic jam.
Everything else will just drive you bonkers.

I have a question...why do older men breathe through their nose?
It seems at least one time everyday, I encounter a man in a store who breathes loudly through his nose.
Like he's trying to suck nutrients from the air with it.

I'm just curious. It's kind of gross.
From now on, I'm gonna start carrying jelly beans in my pockets,
and I'll toss em' towards the heavy breathers face, then they'll get sucked up,
the man, will choke - and I'll be happy.

Thank You...

*?@#$!!!...

Do they even show cartoons on regular TV anymore? They don't play in the morning, it's all news shows. I can never find any on after work. Do kids actually go out and play after school now? It seems like they have to. They replaced after school cartoons with epsodes of COPS! I just watched a guy run out of a building after lighting himself on fire. Now there are a bunch of toothless, mid-western drunks getting arrested. No Robotech. No Batman. Not even fucking Pokemon.

The more and more mainstream media companies merge, the less diversity we're going to see.

So, I'll just turn it off. Take that, channel 11.

Well, after this is over...

Hello?...

So, my girlfriend left on Monday for Europe. Right now she's in Jolly Ol' London drinking tea. Yeah, right. She's drunk, I know it. She's a bad drunk too. Not like me, I mean she doesn't throw herself out of cars and let other people punch them in the face, but she's a lightweight. She gets all smiley and sleepy, and she talks a lot. I'd rather throw myself out of a car again. I miss her. It's too quiet. I'm not used to this anymore. Crazy, eh?

Time to call up some strippers...

Good From Afar, But Far From Good...

Okay, back to normal stuff...

So, one of my friends is dating / humping this young girl. Met her last night. She was annoying, but pretty. That's what I thought, but...I just saw them at the bank today...and the girl's face? Oh my god. I'm sorry, but not to be mean or anything, but yikes! Not good. Let's just say that my initial impression of her was a lot kinder than the stone cold reality of today. I've noticed that happens to me often. People end up looking completely different to me than when I first met them. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing...

Seriously...

I mean no disrespect. I suffer from a bad case of dumby, poopy-ness when it comes to my ill attempts at humor. I give one big, fucking salute to all of those that gave their lives in the name of freedom and liberation. Stupid politics, leaders, and war aside. Much respect to those that have given their life for worthy causes. Bless you, tough bastards. Bless you, boys.

Thank you.

Really.

Squish...

Happy Memorial Day.
Today we give remembrance to all of the snails we've smushed,
either accidentally or purposely. So, today...pick one up, give him a kiss...and stick it somebody's purse or pocket.

Bimbo Baggins...

God damn, did I get slammed at the bar tonight.
I did get a rousing round of applause from all of the drunks,
at the end, before I kicked their drunk asses out.
A short lady that looked like a hobbit and clutching an Amstel Lite hit on me.

But her feet were too furry, so I politely declined her offer...