...and you are worse

mysteries of the fairer sex

Two gentlemen whose consistent popularity with women will always be a mystery to me.

1. The meth-head that sells me cigarettes at the tobaconist where, without fail, MTV "Cribs" is always playing on the wall mounted, rotary-dial television. I suppose "Cribs" is the finishing acadame that taught him that nothing says class like a t-shirt with Lil' John airbrushed, in rather stunningly life-like detail, on the front... complete with real faux-gold teeth 'bedazzled' onto John's perfectly replicated shit-eating-grin.

2. Any male who has frosting incorporated into their over-gelled, pseudo flat-top. The same 'dude' whose coming is heralded by the acrid stench of a freshly applied 'TAG body shot,' and that unmistakable thick, graceless, plodding step that bespeaks the carriage of the unbearable weight of subconsciously knowing that you have never had, nor will you ever have, a personality. A hard truth, kept barely at bay by the combination of: shopping for cloths that take surf/skateboard logos and cleverly twist them into something vaguely Jesus themed, and mentally punishing yourself for screwing, even though the same deity promoted on your zipper hoody hates you for it.

Take my advice ladies: it is the skinny, RPG playing, geek that will love you with all the vigor and appreciation of a fifteen year-old virgin, but with the added bonus of a sexual vocabulary pregnant with the years of internet pornography that a teenager has yet to experience.

Plus, I've got like, four dollars left on my laundry card, so if you spend the night I can totally wash your cloths for you in the morning.

Should have... sent... a poet

Skateboard Ball Launch Does Not Go Well - Watch more free videos
Watch this about 50 times in a row, and tell me its not funny every freaking time!

live for the sticker... you little bastard

Maybe lack of sleep over this past week has made me paranoid and unstable, but I am getting the sneaking suspicion that the entire world is out to make my life miserable by raising kids who refuse to do anything without promise of acquiring a small piece of colorful paper with gummy crap pasted all over the back. I remember being a little kid and thinking that being rewarded with stickers was ridiculous... they are completely worthless.
Maybe I am living a lie, and stickers are actually the most valuable currency on the world market, and I am just too ignorant of world economics to realize it, and the only reason parents send their kids to piano lessons is to amass a great wealth of these notes.
Stupid me for thinking that the ability to play an instrument was the pay off for taking lessons.

"Flying Free"

...one of the most important entries in the "Dragonforce Epic Lyric Rhyming Dictionary." Who doesn't like Dragonforce? I defy you to make a case against the emotional journey and catharsis that a fast-as-holy-fuck guitar solo, wrapped in the framework of fight-training montage music, takes you on.

In my past life as a call center phone jockey for CCS (that ungodly skateboard and related paraphernalia train wreck) I was at ground zero of the life altering invention of the Osiris G-Bag. For those who know not what this apex of innovation, this perfect marriage of form and function is, I shall illuminate. Wait for it... wet your lips with anticipation... the Osiris G-Bag is a backpack with speakers sewn into the frame, connected to a pocket where one can place a portable compact disk player (this was early 2000, when the ipod was still reserved for crack-pots who felt that having 28 billion mp3s was far superior to carrying around a ten pound CD binder). Thus, you could pump your tunes out loud, for the edification of all who wander into the sphere of you and your G-Bag.

To my eternal discredit, I never bought one, and now I am incapable of conveniently thrusting my speed-metal soundtrack onto unsuspecting victims at the bus stop. How are they all supposed to know how bad-ass I am without hearing passionately screeched lyrics about flying over mountains and fighting for truth, and dulcet tones blistering forth from gods own guitar at ten thousand beats-per-minute.

I mean, I could just say it out loud, but without the background music I would just look like a jack-ass, and I don't want that. Fact: women will not sleep with a jack-ass unless they are browbeaten into submission by his way-cool theme song.

the real legacy of Jesus Jones

1) White kids getting away with having dreadlocks
2) Trying to make keyboard playing cool by being the most "hip-hop" kid in the whole crew
3) Wearing your hat "taco style' with the bill flipped up famously... a fuck you to the ball cap nazis that said you could only choose between bill in front or bill in back.
4) Electronica... now for everybody

nothing cures a stutter like a good lay

Excerpt from
"Horizons"


If I EVER write a piece as god-awful, vanilla, and ham-fisted as this'un, may the lord see fit to send an eight foot tall Indian (indigenous American) to smother me with a fucking pillow.

I pray Peter Louis Van Dijk wake every morning to the crushing reality of his pathetic failure, and stand, twice hourly, in front of the bathroom mirror shouting expletives at his reflection while wiping himself down with his own defecate.

why don't we say cowabonga anymore?

...added to the list of things which I imagine would be funny, but, in all honesty, aren't:

Ninjas using their ninja skills to accomplish everyday tasks! I had a vision of such a scene, involving toasting a sandwich under the broiler, when it occurred to me that it is dangerously close to the opening sequence from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie (staring Cory Feldman), where they skateboard up to the surface world and use their ancient tactics of subterfuge in order to hide the fact that they are sewer-living freaks from the pizza delivery guy.

things which will always be funny:

references to Thriller

Journey to the End of the Night

Yeah I referenced a Celine book in the title... so suck it... I earned that right by wasting hours of my life slogging through the whole damn thing, even though the first half dozen chapters are the only ones worth reading.

but thats not the point:

the point: it takes me a long time to enter anything into Finale because every time I finish a system, measure, or even beat, I feel I have earned a congratulatory cigarette. Thus, having a project that begged completion, I stole myself for a long night by pounding two entire carafes of coffee, and not the good coffee, but the "buy-by-the-pound" bag of generic swill coffee. What I failed to take into account was that, while it may be almost incalculably small, I do have something that resembles a learning curve, and have completed said project ahead of schedule.

Now I must decide if its worth it to try and shake myself to sleep for two and a half hours of tormented wet dreams.

Moral of the story... caffeine is a drug kids, listen to your D.A.R.E. officer and just say no... unless you are trying to drown out the sound of your screaming insecurities, in which case drugs and violence are very effective.

FACE!

I like the sound of my own voice as much as the next person, so if er'y body else gets to blather on about their petty, mundane bullshit on the world-wide innernette, I want to as well. Although, I was taken aback upon finding out that my images and video clips promoting bestiality would not be tolerated by the fine people at Google. That is like 80% of my being, but "the Man" has decided to keep me down, so there will inevitably be vast holes in the already Burroughs-esque narration of my life... just fill in those gaps with pictures and grainy footage of barnyard sexcapades and the other pieces will all fall into place.

The other 20% is yo' momma' jokes, so get ready to be put in your place by the lashes from my rapier wit, directed at your family, whom you love, but I consider fodder for references to weight problems and prostitution.

Tell your friends... especially about the animal boning, because you only know perverts and they will get a kick out of it.