12/04/03



Spaceman Spiff...



Y' know - it's great that I have the friends that I do. They're all weirdos - but I am too, and that's why it works so well. I have, like, a million and five of the best people in my exclusive little club. That's enough. So, don't apply - you won't get in. We don't want to exhaust the resources that we have. We have spent years diggin up, stockpiling, and hoarding all of precious ha ha's and good times. Go find your own, Bub.

I like that I can call Tony in a second while he's at work and tell him that my washer's broken and maybe can I do laundry - even though, I already got a roll of quarters and knew that he'd say yes. It's nice that I already have a key and could let myself in there any ol' time I felt like it, but if you have the opportunity, one should ask anyway, there's always the possible naked girl doing naked things to my naked friends in their house factor. Most of my friends are single. How did I become the GUY IN A RELATIONSHIP anyway? Last time I checked I was the single guy doing whatever and whomever I wanted? Now I'm buying dish soap and bedsheets? But I love it. The relationship - not buying a bunch of crap.

But, see...maybe I should explain...my friends are great...they're my support system, like an endoskeleton of sorts. I exist on this symbiosis-type thing that we've always had going...and have been for awhile. Everything is sweet, slimy jelly. They understand me as much as they can and vice-versa. It's like having a dog.

What am I saying? Oh yeah, I have a key because Tony AND Chris, both friends - live together. We used to theorize who would be the first two to be roommates when we were in high school. But I guess I ruined that whole deal by getting kicked out nine days after I graduated...so they live together. That meant that when I was done traveling around like the homeless lout that I was, that I had one of the only places we could kick back at. It sure beat wandering around grocery stores, public parks, and sitting for hours at McDonald's sharing one extra large coke arguing over who had to get the refill. So, when I wasn't home they could use their key. This applied to the five other places that I would live in until they finally did move out and get their own places. Having a key to their place was a given, even though I rarely use it. Sometimes when I'm running around, doing errands and stuff, important stuff like going to the toy store or buying comic books - I'll stop by their house, and will have to use my key because they're still asleep. I'll sit down and read a magazine, wake them up, or just write an obscene message on their chalkboard and just leave.

One time I came home from a three day camping trip and found a Koosh Ball on my coffee table. This wasn't mine. I was sure of it. One remembers if they own a silly toy made of rubberbands or not. They were there the night before doing ecstasy. Oh. I was only angry because there was a gay-ass toy in my house. That was it. I remember another time that I came back from a trip in San Jose and found four of them kicking back smoking pot on my porch. Okay. No problem, Hippies. I've had about six friends stay at my place too. For free, when they needed to or got in fights with their parents. Cool. I was poor. Still am, but was poorER.

What's the point of this whole diatribe? No point. I'm doing laundry tonight. Drive me home when I call, okay? Cuz' I'll be drunk as a skunk. Hopefully I'll have puked on their couch or broken something...






Weird Smells Aside...

It's nice to be home...





12/03/03



Ichabod Crane, Nearly Headless Nick, And Victims Of Vlad...



Usually I'm just filling in space here, I know that a lot of it might not make sense. It's like Blog roadkill, or verbal poopy in a baby's diaper. Sometimes I might write something that'll grab you. Sometimes I think that this is the ultimate time sucker. Yeah, and that's true - why wasn't Tom Cruise's name in the credits for his cameo in Young Guns? And does it make me even lamer than before that I'm working my night around The Paris Hilton show thing again? By the way, she has no butt. Not that I think having a big ass is great. I hate when people say that about me, maybe I shouldn't say that about Paris. I mean, like what?...do you want me to have a fat ass then? Yeah, that'd look great. A thin guy with a really fat ass. But Paris' behind looked like a tent stake shoved into a pair of thousand dollar jeans. Not cool. She should stick to wearing skirts, homie.

Meet me at The Batcave, Robin...






Fat Free Word Association Game In The Comments #1...

Okay, you sick bastards...
Here we go.
Go now.







Plucking Chickens...

So, does it make me super duper gay if I rushed home after work to watch The Simple Life with Paris Hilton and that other girl? Maybe it just makes me a complete tool. Then I watched Celebrity Poker on Bravo which was okay, I guess, and then I watched The Real World Reunion thing on MTV. This means no writing, but as far as horrible TV goes - this was it. I feel guilty. But you can eat your chocolate, and I can eat my brain away...

So there.




12/01/03



I Feel Like One Million Hugo Weavings...All Sneezing At The Same Time...



Next person that doesn't cover up their mouth when they cough will get punched in the face by me. It's hard to wrestle people to the ground over the last 40 dollar DVD player with a 20 dollar mail-in rebate when you're down with the flu. No, I haven't been bargain shopping. I'm just kidding. The last thing that I want to do is to go bargain hunting with the rest of the slow-marching, fat lemmings. You can have all of that stuff. I don't want it. I'll stay at home and watch my Netflix movies instead.

This morning when I was in my post-bartending midday zombie state, I tried to watch Blues Clues so that I could maybe catch a glimpse of Mr. Salt, Mrs. Pepper, and Paprika - but Dora The Explorer was on before. It's got to be the worst cartoon I've ever seen/heard. Yeah, I get it - she's probably great for bilingual kids or hispanic kids trying to pick up English, vice-versa or whatever - but this was some annoying shit. Even more annoying when one is falling back asleep. It was like listening to a high-pitched exorcism. Not cute. It was televised death. It was like a picture of cartoon poo on the screen that shoots out painful lightning bolts to your temples.

So, I didn't make it to Blues Clues and switched it to infomercials instead.






I Could...

Write about everything that I've been doing lately, but I'm too lazy.
So is your left eye.

Goodnight.




11/29/03

11/25/03




After The Grocery Store...

Interesting that I"ll buy vegetarian chicken nuggets because regular chicken nuggets gross me out.
Interesting that I have no problem whatsoever with the pork rinds that were already in my basket.







A Pig Is An Animal With Food On His Face...



My eyes are burnin' gods holy hell fire and no amount of itching is gonna help them, I think.
Argh. It's like somebody dumps chili powder in them while I'm asleep.
I blame the cats. Yeah, you.




11/24/03



The Postal Service Nothing Better Lyrics...

Will someone please call a surgeon who can crack my ribs
and repair this broken heart that you're deserting for better company?
I can't accept that it's over: I will block the door
like a goalie tending the net in the third quarter
of a tied-game of rivalry

So just say how to make it right
and I swear I'll do my best to comply

Tell me am I right to think that there could be nothing better
than making you my bride and slowly growing old together

I feel I must interject here, you're getting carried away,
feeling sorry for youself with these revisions and gaps in history.
So let me help you remember. I've made charts
and graphs that should finally make it clear.
I've prepared a lecture on why I have to leave

So please back away and let me go
I can't my darling I love you so. oh ohhhh

Tell me am I right to think that there could be nothing better
than making you my bride and slowly growing old together
don't you feed me lines about some idealistic future
your heart won't heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures

I admit that I have made mistakes
and I swear I'll never wrong you again
you've got a lure I can't deny,
but you've had your chance so say goodbye,
say goodbye






I, Robot...



So tired...

Bzzt!......





11/22/03



28 Days Later...



Me - Honey, if I got turned into a zombie...would you kill me?

Her - Yeah...

Me - You would?

Her - Yeah...

Me - But if you didn't...we could be zombies together...

Her - Oh...okay then...I wouldn't.




11/21/03



Ape Drape, The Great Escape, And The Master Race...



The Cartoon Pig and I went out tonight to make fun of people. We were that bored - but I forgot a notebook, and it was too dark in the bar to see anybody anyway. So we ended up leaving. Ended up at a couple of friend's houses. Got horrible late night food. Put in a movie. Now I am typing this. Work tomorrow. Then after that...maybe we'll go out and make fun of people. Get bored. Maybe I'll forgot my notebook and end up leaving. And after a couple of friend's houses, we'll get horrible late night food. Then we'll put in a movie and I'll type something like this. Then have to work the next day.

fini.




11/20/03



Hi. I'm An Idiot...



Not because I mentioned sperm in my last post and said a stupid joke which wasn't really much of a joke anyway, but because back in the day - way back in 2002, I learned how to post images on Fat Free Milk through the help of a friend. I thought that it was pretty cool. I posted a couple of lame ass pictures. I wrote some more posts after that, but put off putting in more pics because I was lazy. Then I forgot how to do it. Typical me.

So now. Me. Mr. Dumbass, was just sitting here ready to waste more time, I forget what I was about to do, maybe it was because I read about this on Blogger.com earlier. But, that couldn't have been it because they specifically had a section on how to upload images, but I thought that I wouldn't understand it or that it didn't apply to me. I've had the option to upload images the whole time. Built into this little taskbar thingy right over there. Yeah, over there. I've clicked on it by accident, even a couple of times.

So...uh...yeah.

So. Get ready for a crapload of pictures that I've had saved or that I swiped from your site.

So. I'm dumb.






I Was Sperm Once...

But I was a way cooler sperm than you ever were...





11/18/03



When Butterfly Flutters Become Hurricanes...

Getting older. Time is doing it's job, and working a lot of overtime. Saw my old high school principal at the bank. Back then, he was the Lex Luthor to my Superman. Now he looked...really small, and just like any other older guy. What hatred we had for each other, was now reduced to a couple of curious glances. Recognition? I don't know. Really doesn't matter much anymore anyhow. I could give a crap, it's been so long.

Saw an old friend today who came into my work. She was the whole girl next door/Winnie Cooper thing to my Kevin Arnold Wonder Years. She came in with her mother and her new baby. I started telling her about other friends of ours that we knew from high school that have had kids too. I was kind of shocked by just how many names started to spill out of me when we started to talk about who was having what. Geez, it seems like I'm in the minority when it comes to marriage and being a parent. It's strange to see somebody, that for you, represented a whole period of your life. I'm not saying I was all googly-boogly eyes over her when we were talking, it was very nice - but what I meant was that looking now at somebody that you used to see almost all of the time so long ago makes you feel strange. Like a ghost just wisped up to you and tousled your hair. Afterward, you end up trying to fix it back like it was before, but your increasing bald spots make it harder.

Everything is moving too fast. It always has. Back then - I was aware enough to notice it, but somewhere down the line, I stopped recording how fast it was actually traveling. Am I being left behind? Am I putting it off? Or does time exist for everyone else...but just not for me?

Somebody needs a nap.




11/17/03



Crawling King Snake...

Plumbers here. But he's waiting for another plumber. This sucks. Who should I blame? Whose fault is this? Professor Plum did it. In the lavatory. With a lead pipe. Speaking of filth, I saw the Paris Hilton Sex Tape. She had glow in the dark eyes because the thing was shot with some kind of night camera. There were no midgets in the movie. She's an excellent actress. I give her an A-. The musical score sucked. Ummm...that's about it. Think of all of the hits I'll get now because of mentioning plumber so many times. Links will be provided for the Paris Hilton Video for $8.61. Thank you.






One Spilt Of Champagne And One Coke...

Hung out with this guy and
this guy at the bar tonight.
Came home to plumbing problems.
And that was my Sunday.
Be jealous.





11/14/03



Smelly...

In here. It smells like ass. My girlfriend gets pot from her sister that reminds me of swamp water or socks. So now I've sprayed the whole house with air freshener and it smells like cherry blossom swamp water sock ass.




11/12/03



These Ain't Bullets. Yo...

It's hailing deep in Watts and Compton tonight. People are stuck up to their waists in water at Jay-Z, DMX, 50 Cent - I mean, LAX. I just got back from the hardware store to get stuff for the leaky sink that I didn't fix last night because I was playing hooky from responsibilities, and would rather fall asleep in front of the keyboard. As I was driving to the hardware store, I saw lightning storms in front of me. As I was driving back, there was lightning in front of me too. I felt stuck in the middle. Maybe I'd get hit? Maybe not. Maybe it would be cool, though. I think that I'd survive. I don't know why. I just feel like I'm freaky enough to survive something like that. Shark attack? No. Panda? No. People attack? Done that. But with my luck, yes, I'd survive getting hit by lightning, but I'd need thousands of dollars-worth of more dental work because of my fried fillings. Maybe the heat would melt my Zippo to my thigh, and then I'd have to crawl to the emergency room at the hospital, and then I'd be stuck with more bills.

That'd be my luck.

Southern California may be leaking tonight, but at least my sink isn't anymore...and that's all good.




11/11/03



Bees Are Not Toys...

No, I'm not going to write a post, cartoon script, screenplay or novel. I will not feed the homeless or shelter the hungry. I will not read a comic or a book. I will not give my girlfriend a foot message. I will not watch a movie. I will not watch Viva La Bam. I will not put up those shelves or fix the leaky bathroom faucet. I will not water the cats or feed the plants. I will not change around my links or fix my blog to make it look better. I am going to do nothing but play my Star Wars Video game. I will drink some beers. I am wasting my life. I like that. Thank you.







Randy Macho Man Idiot Savant...

I love it when that Mensa group comes into my work. I can spot one a mile away. Bad taste in clothes, disoriented looking, dorky, etc. I love the guy that was looking at the bathroom sign and then asked me where the bathroom was, but the one that made my day was the Mensa lady who came in wearing a full Star Trek costume. That was one of the best things that I've ever seen. I'm hoping for a Klingon next.

I love you Mensa Star Trek lady.




11/10/03



Finance Charges...

Deserve to die. Finance charges have no rights. We should stick them in convalescent homes. Tag them. Not let them vote. I want to castrate finance charges. I want to lynch finance charges. Fuck you, finance charges. I hate you. Rot in heck.

Oh, and you too, Overdraft fees...






Neverland, Narnia, And Naboo...

Today. I watched too much tv. Was recovering from a weekend of debauchery. I couldn't move. Couldn't help it. Sunday tv is my equivalent to your gulity chocolate pleasure or kiddie porn. Did absolutely nothing at work. I thought that full moons meant that people went crazy and drank a lot. Apparently not. I had, like, ten people the whole night. Absolutely no Werewolves too. Bastards. I read the paper. I left. Am home now. Fini.




11/07/03



California Wildfire In My Pants...

News Update:

After working 60+hours this week, I am getting ready to go out and get drunk like a homo skunk.
And pleez check out my picture at Monique's site.
Oh. Wait. Is the picture blurred now? Haaa ha ha. I asked her kindly to do that, because I'm a punk. I felt uncomfortable having my picture around. I've got an image to uphold, you know. I can't let embarrasing material of me float around on the internet, can I? Paris Hilton has her sex tape. I have my Halloween party picture.







11/06/03



Karanji Seeds...

I really am serious about buying that island, you know. What island? C'mon. Shut up. Play along. Just me. Maybe you too. Maybe not. It depends on how cool and useful you are. Do you smell? Joo got skills? Would you bring cool stuff? Squeamish? Attractive? Because no ugly people are allowed on my island, sorry. No, seriously. No ugly people. You have to be beautiful on the inside AND beautiful on the outside also. Sorry, it's just the way my island works because I've got the rest of my life to live on it - you better be the prettiest wallpaper I've ever seen, and the most pleasant background noise. I would prefer that you wouldn't look better than me, though. It's my island. I don't want to be intimidated by you. I want you to just sit there and shut up and do what I say. It'd be cool if you had knives for hands too. And a book dispenser built into your forehead. I want Swiss Family Robinson without the family, and Robinson Crusoe without the religion. You would need to listen to me a lot, because I would be the master and you would have to follow everything that I said with a cultish fervor, fanaticism and fever. You would have to be able to ignore things like that last sentence that I wrote. You would, at least have to know, if not everything about The Empire Strikes Back - a little. And if you didn't - then you'd have to be able to be good at acting interested. Sounds good. It's a deal. Kevynn Island. Malone Beach. Something like that. I need a Paypal button...