i got the purple heart, that is so sacrilicousiously phantistic

you can help scare, oh i mean carry some shit

is that the goodbye you give everynight?

dude, i had good time tonight, all and all

that second one i felt

youre hairline is better than mine

can i use this cookie to dip into this salsa? he talks about profit

El Rey...

is he chicano? i think not. so what then, he makes one hell of a salsa. "the mexican approves!"
yeah, the mexican appoves! this is salsa. this is food. this is it. this is us. this is this. so, the mexican approves. so the mexican goes on in a stream of conscious.

like you care.

anyway

Damnation...

where am i again? oh, downstairs, with "Lucky" Rey and Drunken Chris Faux- Hawk.... there's just not enough beer in this town to be able to describe this... blood everywhere, cats digging at our faces, we don't have a chance. Drinking is our and everyones salvation, fuckers, and Strangers beware.... I'm armed to the teeth. Why are there so many reggae bands in our town?? We really don't have that much of an inner city trench town. Oh, well, as long as the over-set girls are jigglin', and the beers are affordable, and the juke plays that sick-ass music all night long, I'm a cappy hamper. there's a strong amount of distrust in the room, noone can be innattentive... the tensions are high, and one of us has resorted to childish vandalism. May any god that's up there have mercy and Barbecue Sauce on our souls.

I Said God Damn...

I'm up. Why are you? And what the hell are you doing with yourself?

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.