Some Things...

Don't be a dummy. Remember to remember to pay for your drinks. I don't wanna have to chase after you, because then I'll charge you double. I'm still bummed about missing that party. Luis said that it was the best party he's ever been to. My birthday is coming up. I am more concerned with making my car payment on the 30th and making rent by the 5th, than anything else. Last year, my gal threw me a surprise party. I was asleep in the car right before. After they yelled SURPRISE!, I called them a bunch of pig fuckers, gave them the bird, and then proceeded to karate chop everybody in the wind pipe. I think my town is being invaded by english blokes. They're everywhere. I think that this year, I haven't finished reading more books than have. On my birthday, I want to go to Chuck E. Cheese, and then a strip club. Or maybe, Ill strip at Chuck E. Cheese. It's time to go. Goodbye.

No Doubt...

Talked to Luis tonight and he told me about the party that I missed on Friday night. Two open bars at the house, a dance floor, and the lovely Gwen Stefanie. Ummm...I will never have a pary at my house ever again, because now I'm too paranoid about missing something. I don't care if it's a funeral next time that I have planned - I'm ditching it to party like a rockstar with the rockstars. Damnit.

Smells Like Weed In Here...

My house is pretty damn cool, but I've got to say Joe has the best friggin' pad. Bachelor pad, ladies. I'm typing on his little Sony Vaio Laptop thing, Listening to his bad ass stereo, watching his big ol' TV. I'm drinking a Heineken. I haven't had one of these skunky things in a while. I killed Joe, that's why I'm here. Now I'm playing with all of his stuff. No, we just had to stop by his house so that he could, umm...get something. Tony had a bad day today, blew a gasket in his head - I mean, car and could use some cheering up. By the way, how the hell did Tony get so fucking tall? He used to be like, a foot shorter than me in high school, the bitch. I stopped growing. I was always kind of hoping to be like a couple inches taller and about forty more pounds of muscle. Ha, like care...ummm...Joe just put on the Playboy channel, it's making it kind of hard to concentrate. Playboy's Screen Tests? Ummm....what's that like? Okay, this isn't working for me. Either no breasts or no writing...

Goodbye.

There's A Place In France...

There's so much rum and wine in the house, that there should be some law against it. This much hooch is bound to lead to no good. I might end up humping something by the end of the night. Not my girlfriend. Not alive. Not proper. Oh, and if you're hungry, you should stop by. I sure as hell ain't gonna be eatin' any of this stuff. I'm drinking my dinner tonight. But, my gal's a trooper, everything looks very nice. And, yes...I am typing as friends are over - but that's normal. They're used to it. I just saw a possum. Chris just said that I was like Edward Scissor Hands on the computer. I think I have to go now. Oh, and I have topless pics of my girlfriend. They go to the highest bidder. Oh, and I also will have topless pics of me by the end of the night. If anybody actually bids on them, then you get it. You sicko...

Bastards...

Did you get invited to a party at Tony Kanal's house? Yes. Are you going to go? No. Why not? Because we're having a wine and cheese party here instead. Doesn't that suck? Yes. I would've liked to pee on his rug and hump Gwen's belt buckle.

Damn.

Harry Potter, The Order Of The Pheonix Excerpts Free Download Samples Hee Hee Hee Cats That Look Like Patrick Swayze And Patrick Stewart...

So am I going to get a Twilight Zone-type curse now? I've always entertained the fantasy of what I would do if everybody left the earth for whatever reason, disease, germ warfare, some comet doing something in that horrible 80's movie, whatever...I've always been fascinated with the whole man-alone-apocalyptic thingy. Why? Don't know. Maybe because I'm a snoop. Maybe I'd like to spend time rifling through peoples houses at random and see how they're living. Maybe I'd like to drink all of their beer and open up all of their drawers. Yes, it'd be lonely - but this is pretend. I could carry around a bunch of guns, raid toy stores, pee in SUV's. I could spend the rest of my crappy life reading comics and catching up on the X-Men. I couldn'r watch movies because the electricity would be gone. I'd be chased through the streets by packs of dogs and dive-bombing parakeets. Somehow, I'd wind up with a monkey - I just know it. That'd be cool. I'd teach him how to load bullets into the clips of my firearms. I'd probably dress better. I'd carry a can opener. I'd talk to myself even more than I do now. Read Earth Abides by George R. Stewart, that was a good book, even though that the main character was a conservative, racist, holier-than-thou dick. The Stand was a kick-in-the-pants. I'd probably finish my own books and screenplays. I bet more people would read them then, huh? I'd seal off and fortify my city and rename it HELL or something. Eventually, I'd find my way to an island and just make do there. Maybe I'd find a tiger, or a dinosaur or something and let my monkey ride on top of him and take notes for me.

Maybe there's an island somewhere in the world now for people like me...with bars on the windows...ha.

Riddle Me This, Batman...


I've never been able to decide if Sarah Jessica Parker is hot or not. Hmmm...

2600 With Wood Paneling...

There's a commercial on the TV for a car that has the old arcade game Asteroids in the beginning. I'm sorry that the last three posts were about TV, by the way, but I can't help it. My gal is asleep, so I sometimes put on the huge ass TV on instead of music, I like to steal glances now and then. Anyway...seeing Asteroids on a modern day TV looked kind of cool, it made me want to dig up an old Atari and play some of those games, or at least that Nintendo that we have in the closet. I could go for some Legend Of Zelda, Super Mario Brothers, or Duck Hunt. I just might have to try that after I get off of work tomorrow. Or I could just be responsible and let sleeping dogs...um, sleep and not get hooked back up again..err...yeah.

Collect 100 coins and get a free life. Mario's a bitch. Q-Bert had no arms. Link was gay. Dig Dug was dirty. Pac Man was a fat slob.

Goodnight / morning.

Laugh It Up Fuzz Ball...

I'm watching humans in monkeys suits fight each other on Discovery Channel. There's something disturbing to me about humans in monkey, I mean ape suits. I don't know why. I'd rather see Chewbacca fight em' all. If George Lucas was smart, he'd create a show called The Adventures Of Chewie. Everybody's favorite wookie would fly around the galaxy and solve mysteries. Kind of like an inter planetary Colombo - just without the lazy eye.

Jeebus Christ...

I love The Simpsons, but I've probably only watched a fourth of all of the episodes unlike some of my friends. But, then again - I don't smoke pot, so that might be the reason I find it hard to plan to watch anything on television. I usually find something by accident. Sometimes it's hard, doody-fresh. Anyway, how come every single time I actually get a chance to watch The Simpsons...It's One Of The Same Damn Episodes I've Already Seen???

Give a brutha a break, yo.

Let's Get It On...

As I write this, my girlfriend is puking...Welcome home, honey. Don't think that I'm an insensitive bastard - I already pulled her hair back in a ponytail, gave her water, took off her jewelry, and all of that stuff. I just peeked over. She looks pretty miserable, but that's what happens - doesn't it? Oh, you people crack me up. I know that I jump out of cars and crap when I'm drunk, I may write some nonsense on the computer - but, it takes a lot for me to kiss the butt seat. But, then I'm a wuss and only stick to the light beers and the ultra light cigarettes. This suits me just fine, Bubba.

At the bar, my gal and I were talking to a guy that I've served on my bartending shift. I always call him a cab. He put something in my hand as he got into his cab. Gee, thanks man. He gave me some cocaine. Uhhh...I smiled and waved. Looked at it. Yup, coke. Watched the cab leave and poured that stuff into the street. I guess I could have sold it, but I'd never sell that shite to a friend, so what's the point. Should I be touched? I'm so naive when it comes to that stuff. I never think that people that I'm mingling around with are doing drugs. Trust me, I'm no innocent - but, Damn, aren't we all getting a little older? This guy probably had kids too. I bet that he gives his kids shit for drinking too much soda.

Anyway, I poured it out on the street after he left. I feel sorry for all of the ants that OD'd because of me. I feel like a little kid when I find out that people are doing coke, heroin, and...organized religion.

I feel perfectly fine with my small vices. They suck. But they're damn cool right now, and the worse thing that I'll do is listen to this Marvin Gay song as my girlfriend expunges her Captain and diet cokes, Uh oh, shes not in the bathroom anymore....Okay, I just got her out of the bed and back to the toilet. Cough, Cough goes the gal, and I'm writing like a madman. I guess, maybe - I might be a little buzzed right now, because I'm going to tell you that I love you. Yeah, you, you sick bastard. Love my butt, please. And, also...love the two new books that I'm going to start writing that have to be done by Christmas. Yeah, you heard me. I said it. Christmas.

And my birthday's coming up on the 25th, and it's a toss between a potential yacht trip with my friend's landlord, Chuck E. Cheese and then a strip club, camping, or just sitting at home and getting kinda kee-razy. Decisions. Choices. Your momma's got a mouth on the back of her neck, and the bitch chews like this... ( demonstration ).

As I write this, my girlfriend is sleeping...

Choose Your Own Adventure...

Today's post will be written by you - Whatever you want to see see will be written by you in the commenting section. Bleed your heart out, whine, complain, tell me what you did today. What do you hate. Today is Your Blog Day. This is your day. Friends passed out. I'm a pimp. You're an elephant...

Super - Absorbant...

The word, " Tampax " just sounds dirty doesn't it? Or violent?

"Don't make me Tampax you!"

"I'm gonna kick you in the Tampax!"

"This is my aunt Tampax."

"I slept with a whore in Tijuana and she gave me the Tampax."

Like A Heart Attack...

She's back tomorrow. My girlfriend has had her fill of European sex, and is arriving tomorrow. I cleaned the house like nobody's biznatch. Everything looks good. I was pretty boring while she was gone, wasn't I? But that a good thing I think. But let me tell you, puppies. I'm about ready to get rip-roarin', stinkin' drunk tonight. Yup. That's right, people. Then tomorrow morning, it's all about the wonders of LAX. I have to remember to not wear any of my scary belts with all of the skulls or metal on them. Not that I don't mind taking off my belt in front of complete strangers or anything - but it's just a bitch to get them back on as your being hustled away dy a fat airport security guys hand. I don't know what I just said. That's okay. God damn full moon. I miss werewolves. Thank you.

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.

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...

It's That Time Again...

Time for me to make more deviled eggs for a BBQ.
Time for my house to smell even fartier than it always is...

Fartier?