Tasslehoff Burrfoot...

so
you sit here STARING
duh
arghh
what are we all doing
wasting time
and eating preservatives
prolonging the inevitable
ingesting empty calories
getting fat full of nothing

while we waste away

Attention: Self

By the time you read this - you will be drunk.

Thank you.

I Hate Cake.

No, not the band. I like them. I hate cake, the dessert.

I hate when I'm at work and there's some extra cake left from a party or something and everybody else who works there hides pieces in the kitchen for themselves for later. I hate how people treat it like gold. They throw their hands up in the air, they get a fanatical look on their faces and start to run towards it.

What's it like, fucking gold? Shit, I'll make it myself. I've seen kids just practically poop themselves when you mention it. They have to be coerced into finishing their actual meal. Like their hamburger or pizza is so horrible to get through.

I mean...it's cake. Like Betty Crocker cake. You can buy it. You can get one decorated. Cake. CAKE! This isn't The Soviet Union. We don't live in the middle ages. People go to IHOP and practically eat cake for breakfast, so what's the deal? It drives me apeshit to see people going nuts over cake. Especially when they're full. Just eating cake because it exists? It's like having sex with a fat hooker because you have a free coupon. Fat hooker? Cake? CAKE!!!

I'm going to become a baker and just keep on having employees just shoot that shit right outside the building. It'll fly out of an iron chute and skid all across the street. I'll laugh watching all of the traffic accidents. SUV'S will flip over, fire hydrants will be knocked over, there'll be a pile of cars that reaches to the sky because there's FREE CAKE. FREE FUCKING CAKE EVERYONE, LOOK! YEAH, LOOK AT IT - RIGHT OVER THERE, IT'S FREE, I TELL YA' AAARRRGGGHHHH!!!!!

CAKECAKECAKECAKE!!!!!!

I Look...

like a dork in this outfit.

BACKGROUND BAR PEOPLE have changed places some. Some new. Some the same. Some are still in the same place but have more glasses and bottles around them and are obviously drunker. Maybe the bar has more people in it. Maybe it doesn’t depend on the bar and the time.

But KEN and KESEY are getting very drunk.


KEN- Y’ know, I’m gonna make this into one of my screenplays…no – a play first because…

KESEY – Why?

KEN – If I can do it on – wait – what? Why what?

KESEY – Geez. Wait, why don’t you. Ummm…why?

KEN – Why what? What do you mean? Whymakeitintoafucking-

KESEY – Why write about shit before it’s done? Why don’t you write about something already done instead of preying on your real emotions and circumstances and just tooling around with what you already know as opposed to what you don’t? Why play the waiting game and just work with what you know? Maybe that’s why you haven’t really done anythi-

KEN – Why I haven’t done anything- Dude, I’ve done a lot of shit. I have…

KESEY – Yeah, I know what you’ve done, and it’s cool and all, but you’re getting older. Older. Seriously. You talk and talk about stuff and that’s great and all and you have a million good ideas but why not be fucking Da Vinci or Ben Franklin and just be Harper Lee or Catcher In The Rye?

Ken – What? Catcher In the Rye?

Kesey – What ever his name was.

KEN – Is. His name is…

KESEY - Whatever.

Chris T.

That would be neat to be named Chris and then have a last name that starts with T, huh? I would always just use the initial for my last name. My frends would write to me in letters, "Jesus, Chris T!"

Sorry. I'm bored.

I need to write a list for myself:
Comic book store
Return Land Of The Dead and Dominion
Organize all of that crap that you're going to ship
Get a Money Order
Call the skydiving place
Call your mother. Ummm...okay. Suuuurrrreee.
Don't be this boring ever again.

The Sad Thing Is...

That I think that I spend more time talking about other peoples relationships or just philosophizing in general about the nature of the beast than actually spending time with my significant other.

It's kind of like being a sign-language teacher and not realizing that passing motorists are flipping you off on your way to work.

Wrecking Crew...

Arghhh.

The only good thing about L.A. is the people living in it.

My Ancestors Would Be Proud...

I hate being busy. I hate doing things. I hate going in public places. I hate being around people. I don't like to do things that're proposed to me by others. I'd rather slowly stir those things around and see how I feel about them later. I feel like I've done it all before, I know what to expect and that nothing is new to me.

I don't like to exercise, walk, hike or go to the gym. I hate the mall. I hate to shop and would rather not go than to just look around. I hate parking lots and hate how people drive. I hate the internal combustion engine. I hate loud noises. I hate car horns. I hate screeching. I hate wailing sirens and people yelling out, "Fuck You's!" to each other as they accelerate away.

I don't like working. I hate stifling sparks of creativity and, if you're lucky, making do with scribbling down that amazing idea on a nearby scrap of paper and cramming it into your pocket because you can't write more about it at work. I hate rules. I hate the hot smell of paper that comes out of the copier. I hate file cabinets. I hate food. I hate tips. I hate cranky, ass old people. I hate people in a hurry. I hate fat guts. I hate having too many options when I call customer service. I hate that the same woman's recorded voice is on the phone regardless of what department I call because it's just like seeing the same commercial on the TV every single time you turn it on.

I hate. I'm unmotivated. I'm lazy. I have no drive. No will. No discipline. I hate.

Yes, I do.

But I love this post. Yes. I love it. And I love this Coca-Cola over here to my right. I love that I just wasted 17 minutes doing something that I shouldn't be doing and that nobody can take that time back from me because I've already spent it.

I love it.

And His Brother Gandalf...

Dude. Full on just saw a guy's paperwork and his name is...Merlin.

Fucking Merlin.

He's married too.

Can you imagine being married to Merlin?

What's their house look like?

Does he ever get ID'd at Rennaisance Fairs? Or maybe Medieval Times?

Merlin. So awesome. Or so mean, I don't know.

Richard Fell...



I think that the ankle's not broken
but my drunken, youthful exhuberance is
my confidence in this body is as brittle as my bones

I am now strapped to this computer
yet, I am told by my girlfriend that
we are having friends over for dinner

X-rays tomorrow
my underarms are already sore from the crutches

I feel like Mr. Glass fron Unbreakable.
I feel like Mr. Stupid-Head from October 2005.

No More Golfing For Me...

3 A.M. in the park across the street. Drunk w/ a neighbor. I fell getting more golf balls. Now I won't have a limp anymore because I might've broken my LEFT ANKLE NOW.

Yay! Crutches again!!!!!

No More Vodka Redbulls For me...



The cement fairies must've poured cement in my ears while I was sleeping last night. I can't even focus. Let alone put together sentences - but I'll try...

Saw a friend at my girlfriend's work yesterday as he was picking something up to go. He said that he was buckling down and training at a mortgage company. Kind of surprising to me considering how arty he is. I started to tell him about the new, other thing that I've been doing when I'm not serving and bartending. We talked about both getting older and needing real jobs and more money, blah blah blah. After he left, I thought about how boring our two new jobs sounded. How old and unoriginal - but totally necessary. Especially for two college dropouts. I started to think about what some of my other friends were doing too. Mutual funds. English teacher. Graphic design. Commercial insurance. Printing. Legal video documentation. Flight attendant. Fed Ex. Bartenders. Servers. Bouncers. Boring.

I tried to be good and think harder. Surely some of my friends must be doing unique and wondrous things? Okay. We had one commercial jet pilot. Ummm...a couple of people in pretty popular bands, all right. Uhhh...nothing else?

No porn stars? No gourmet chefs with popular daytime TV series? No comic book artists, no founders of cults, no dolphin trainers?

What happened? Am I forgetting some of my friend's interesting jobs? Does a friend of mine having an interesting job, somehow, in a way, validate my mundane existence? Does our being in our late twenties, stuck somewhere in the thirties or maybe passing forty years old pretty much make us old? Does this mean that this is it? Get a job, even if it's boring because the relationship, starving child's mouth or empty wallet demand it? Is an interesting life sometimes defined by what one does when out of the workplace or when one has the time to be themselves?

Do I only exist off the clock?

My head is mushy. My skin is hot. My left butt cheek aches, for whatever reason - I don't know, and my eyes aren't focusing well. I think it's time to put my brain to bed and to get through the next 2 hours and 12 minutes.

Then it's time to go home.

After the comic book store, of course. Ha. I'm a nerd.

The Back Street Boys...

Aren't that bad.

Really.

Palm Trees On Fire Smell Like Smog...

This lightning's burning them up out here
Power went out
and I just sat here in the darkness
not knowing what to do

A man in a tie
sold me an art set for ten dollars
and told me that it was just hailing

The power went back on
and then I got sad
the lights now seemed brighter than before
and I missed the darkness

I want more lightning now
I want the L.A. Riots in O.C.
I want Palm trees on fire that smell like smog

I want to type BLARGH

My Brain Is Dying...

After work I went to the corner store to buy a six pack of Coke. Minutes after that, on the way home I stopped at the gas station. I came home and realized as I was putting them away that I BOUGHT TWO six-packs and didn't even realize it. I got nothing else. What the hell is happening to me? I'm like Charlie from Flowers For Algernon. After the operation, when he starts to become retarded again. Except, I guess in my case - I was always dumb and now I'm just getting dumber.

I think this beats the time when I was at the front door and trying to find my house keys and then realized that they were still in my car while the car was running.

doi

I Have Found An ANTI-wormhole...

Time is slowly stretching
one minute becomes ten
ten to thirty
30 to 60
all numbers
big chunk of rock
cut down to sand fragments

Excerpt From A Speech By Me...

It's only October 12th, and I already can't wait for Christmas to be over.

Excerpt from a Speech by Bill Watterson @
Kenyon College, Gambier Ohio, to the 1990 graduating class.

"It's surprising how hard we'll work when the work is done just for ourselves. And with all due respect to John Stuart Mill, maybe utilitarianism is overrated. If I've learned one thing from being a cartoonist, it's how important playing is to creativity and happiness. My job is essentially to come up with 365 ideas a year.
If you ever want to find out just how uninteresting you really are, get a job where the quality and frequency of your thoughts determine your livelihood. I've found that the only way I can keep writing every day, year after year, is to let my mind wander into new territories. To do that, I've had to cultivate a kind of mental playfulness.

We're not really taught how to recreate constructively. We need to do more than find diversions; we need to restore and expand ourselves. Our idea of relaxing is all too often to plop down in front of the television set and let its pandering idiocy liquefy our brains. Shutting off the thought process is not rejuvenating; the mind is like a car battery-it recharges by running.
You may be surprised to find how quickly daily routine and the demands of "just getting by: absorb your waking hours. You may be surprised to find how quickly you start to see your politics and religion become matters of habit rather than thought and inquiry. You may be surprised to find how quickly you start to see your life in terms of other people's expectations rather than issues. You may be surprised to find out how quickly reading a good book sounds like a luxury."

At school, new ideas are thrust at you every day. Out in the world, you'll have to find the inner motivation to search for new ideas on your own. With any luck at all, you'll never need to take an idea and squeeze a punchline out of it, but as bright, creative people, you'll be called upon to generate ideas and solutions all your lives. Letting your mind play is the best way to solve problems.
For me, it's been liberating to put myself in the mind of a fictitious six year-old each day, and rediscover my own curiosity. I've been amazed at how one ideas leads to others if I allow my mind to play and wander. I know a lot about dinosaurs now, and the information has helped me out of quite a few deadlines.
A playful mind is inquisitive, and learning is fun. If you indulge your natural curiosity and retain a sense of fun in new experience, I think you'll find it functions as a sort of shock absorber for the bumpy road ahead.

So, what's it like in the real world? Well, the food is better, but beyond that, I don't recommend it.

Off the top of my head...



even though i love alec empire - when he talks all of his revolutionary/german political stuff - I'm at a loss. He's just too vague. But he rocks. Kind of like Elvis Presley and Hitler beating the shit out of each other while one sings and the other yells at the top of his lungs.

this is the first time that I've worn a sweater in a long, long time. I'm happy about this, but I should feel a lot cooler than I feel right now, because i feel like a dork. I wanted to wear something dark, scary, fashionably wrong or just plain boring - but sitting here looking like I do - just makes me feel like I'm an older boy writing a bunch of shit on a computer while the girlfriend gets ready. But I do have my fingernails painted - so maybe I'm not that old - just kind of retarded.

read warren ellis' Fell and/or Desolation Jones comic books. do it.

man, i love those nights when nothing's really happening and then you return the phone calls of a couple of friends (something that I'm trying to do w/ more regularity) and then it just turns into a whole shashed bang job of getting straight-pissed and then you wake up all head-thudded and w/ a friend on the couch asleep and then you take him home and remember that you have pictures of him putting his balls into Michelle's really expensive, fancy heels in your camera. this was w/ her permission, of course.

durka durka! what movie is that quote from?

my back still hurts from lifting a box of comic books last week

i dread bartending tomorrow night

my girlfriend is taking TWO hours to get ready and by the time that we arrive at the bar - it will be late. I'll have four drinks combined w/ the million that I'm having right now, and then when the bar closes and she's ready to pass out due to her two total drinks - I'll want to keep on going. This will cause some drunken strife. She'll also be up at 8 in the morning and I will be squealing like a freshly-shucked newborn from the vagina of a sweaty mother. I will regret that last sentence tomorrow morning when I re-remember it.

i like dean martin. much. not as much as drinking, but much. those last two words sounded like I was saying BUTT MUNCH. If you had a BUTT MUNCH for LUNCH then it would be a BUTT MUNCH LUNCH.

I need to stop this before Blogger eats it, and I do too.

get bloody pissed tonight, folks.

for me. just don't beat anybody up.

Bloc Party...

April (friend, not the month) had left. I started to watch The Peter Jennings Collection: Disc 1 with the girlfriend, who, of course, fell asleep. Right when we we're getting to the special report on Ecstasy and on the report about the history of the L.A.P.D. too! I bet when the Martians land and I have documented proof to show her on DVD - Sleeping Beauty'll miss that also, so no big deal.

Tony had flaked on me earlier. He was supposed to come over hours ago to pick up most of the old comic books of his that I was going to sell on eBay but never got really around to because I've got too many of mine that I'm trying to do the same to also.

Just a minute ago, Tom/friend and neighbor - scared the shit out of me while I was smoking in my backyard.

So. Mr. White Shirt Lead Guitarist Tony and Mr. Black Shirt Singer Tom are tonight's flake and boogeyman. I curse them. Watch them and curse them. Ask them to apologize while you watch this.

ENJOY...

So, I just realized...

That because I forgot money
and because I'm a poor bastard

instead of snacking on chips
and downing Coke after Coke at the office job

I'm drinking some green tea
and eating an apple.

Hippie.

Po...

Paid rent.
Went to the 7-11 before work to get much needed caffeine.
Realized I had 34 cents.
Am not alert.
Am very poor.

From Far Away, They Sound Like Angels. But, The Closer I Get, The More They Sound Like Braking Trains...



tonight
I got hit
by another driver
when I was driving to the gas station

I hit my head against my window frame
but I've been hit harder than that
so it wasn't that big of a deal

after getting his info
I put all of the paperwork crap in my car
and then started to walk inside to buy beer

Gas for MY internal combustion engine
not for the Toyota

I heard a smack
the poor, stupid bastard
had backed up into a black SUV
a Japanese family spilled out of it
looking confused

I stood there
no way, I thought
no fucking way
this guy just hit another car?

I stood there
nobody paid attention to me
I went inside and got my beer
came back out

I stood there
asked if the family needed a witness to the accident
the wife nodded no slightly

I stood there
then shrugged my shoulders
and got back into my car

I drove away laughing
and could hear the guy
cursing into his cell phone as I left

I rubbed my head
put on my blinker
turned right
went straight
turned on my blinker
turned right
then parked in my driveway

I was smiling
as I searched for my housekeys
and started to giggle
as I got inside

I closed the door
still shaking my head
relieved

because
somewhere
no matter what
there is always

somebody
having
a worse day
than you

You Are My Sunshine - My Only Sunshine. You Make Me Want To Poke My Fingertips Into My Eyes Until I Reach The Knuckles...

Stupid Internet.

For the last couple of hours tonight, I have seen many beautiful things because of your technological and very fresh, content-friendly existence.

This is why I hate you.

My OCD and sick curiousity loves you.

But the shit that I should've been writing - wants to eat your entrails like a German does sausages.