Thursday, December 18, 2003
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
Monday, December 15, 2003
Sunday, December 14, 2003
This Is What It Feels Like To Finally Get To A Writing Assignment That's Due On Monday That You Wont Be Able To Spend Time On On Sunday Because You'll Be Serving Drinks To Drunks But Hell What'ya Going To Do You're Starting A Vodka Redbull And That's Okay Because You Need To Get The Crap Done And To Make Yourself Feel Like The Freak That You Are Because When You're At Your Highest Peak Of Insanity The Rest Of The Robots Are In Hibernation But It Doesn't Matter Because There's Anti-Matter And That's As Cool As Magma And It All Boils Down To My Tendency To Put Of Deadlines And My Inabilty To Actually Put My Nose To The Writng Whore Grindstone But It's Better To Have A Nose Than No Nose Micheal Jackson Said And Right About Now Me And Skeletor Feel Like This...
Shake it like a Polaroid picture, sleepy...
Saturday, December 13, 2003
Thursday, December 11, 2003
Wednesday, December 10, 2003
Monday, December 08, 2003
It Makes Me Sad To See The Last Post On The Bottom Of This Page Go Away To The Archives...
Because then maybe nobody will read it, you all know what a chore it is to actually get in somebody's archives and start reading things...yeah...so hard. Don't answer that phone, man...don't because you had things to say...oh yeah...I've realized what's been missing in my life lately...FUCK THE GoDDAMN PHONE...okay and now I'm back and my girlfriend got all offended because I was pretty curt with her and told her that she interrupted my writing and my horrible spelling but I only answered the phone because I thought that it might be an emergency or something, which it never is, and that's the reason why I don't answer the phone, and all of my friends know this, and look at what you get now - a piece of crap, but that's okay because there's a lot of crap out there, and sometimes it's okay to do your part and contribute, y' know? So, anyway, I was going to say something like, Oh yeah, I miss READING. Like I used to. Like, all the time. Like, totally, fer sure...I got three new books at the library even though, I have tons to get to at home, but I got them anyway, one is the new Nick Hornby book, which I can't wait to read, and I've liked all that I've read of his, but didn't really like that one about the guy who was into soccer or something like that but High Fidelity and About A Boy kicked my ass and I just realized that they made both of those into movies, and now you're probably thinking about your opinions on both of those movies and I don't really care about your opinions on movies or Hugh Grant or other actors, it's like how when I say that I liked Stephen King's IT, and then you tell me how the TV movie sucked. Well, you suck for giving me your opinion on a TV movie based on a work by Stephen King and I suck for telling that you suck and I suck for leaving out commas and hyphens. I dont know why I stopped. Oh, yeah I do - it's because I'm lazy, that's why. The other book that I was reading before I started writing this was A Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers. I read most of this before, and liked it, and almost finished it - but for some reason stopped. Maybe I was too busy or too young to really appreciate it, and I've already started to like it better than before. Books and people are like that sometimes. And I picked up The Grapes Of Wrath by Steinbeck - which I've never read. Surprising, because I've liked and read a lot of his shite, but was, once again, too lazy to tackle it...If it was titiled The Grapes Of Khan and was written by the guy who played Mr. Rourke on Fantasy Island, I bet even more people would read the book - especially nerdy, overweight, white guys in their early 40's...Oh, and I was going to say that I wasn't going to write here until I have reread the first 100 pages of Egger's book AND finished the Real Estate group newsletter that I'm getting paid to write. That's due on Thursday. It's going to suck. Hackhackhack says the coughing real estate newsletter writing whore. Christmas is coming, though and everybody spreads their legs a little farther in December...
No Spell Check...
Saturday, December 06, 2003
Friday, December 05, 2003
Thursday, December 04, 2003
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...
Wednesday, December 03, 2003
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...
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.
Monday, December 01, 2003
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.
Sunday, November 30, 2003
Saturday, November 29, 2003
Wednesday, November 26, 2003
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