July 10, 2008
I still find myself angry about my Mom's passing. It's stupid to be angry about something that you have no control over, something that is really just a biological fact; however tragic and untimely. I guess it doesn't matter how far away from life expectancy you are, it's always going to be tragic and untimely though, eh?
It's scary, to find little pockets of anger inside you. I don't mean the little pockets of anger about the everyday retards you meet in life either; those small irritants that are really more comedy fodder than actual anger. I mean the real anger, the flash memories that set off a visceral response that locks your jaw and clenches your fists. Everything's cool and then something reminds you of how robbed you feel, and how that makes you angry, and sometimes you just wish that every bad thing in the world would happen to you; just so you could justify bathing yourself in the blood of the innocent. And as quick as it came, it ebbs back. It's scary, to know that there's something that makes you feel like that, even if only for a second. That's the kind of shit that erodes your character. Like a little bit of sand or water or wind, and a whole lot of time.
It's easy to ignore it, becuase it's so ugly. Assume you can keep compartmentalizing it, and what's a flash memory anyway, right? A couple seconds every week. Of every month. Of every year. For the rest.of.your.life.
So you're left with no choice but to face it. Allow it to rise to the surface and see your own duality. I'm not all good, and I'm not all bad; I'm all both. I don't know if it's more foolish to ignore the ugly things about yourself, or to assume that you can banish them. You can't change the things in your life that hurt you, because they leave scars.
And we all wear our scars differently, don't we.
April 08, 2008
American Idol Blogging
Christy Lee Cook's titties - awesome; Paula Abdul's titties - lopsided as hell. Her bosom's listing like the Titanic.
Is it just me, or does the dread lock guy do the same thing every week: a guitar with a side of whispery singing. The judges love it. I mean, apparently he's cracked the secret to winning American Idol - get a funny haircut and sing like a pussy. I guess that would make Sanjaya the exception, but there's one to every rule isn't there?
I would buy a David Cook album.
As long as he doesn't put the song he did tonight on it. It was preachy, musically uninteresting, something Bono might do; and, in a word, gay.
I understand Carly Smithson had a rough night tonight; but I would pay money to get my ass kicked by her. She just looks like someone who can deliver a really hot can of whoopass. I've got half a pack of Rolaids in my Hanes just thinkin' about it.
David Archuleta is a fantastic singer, but he clearly lacks deep inspiration. He's one of those few gifted people who, if given a halfway decent arrangement, could sing you the alphabet and it would give you goosebumps. His talent is enough to get him by for the rest of his life, singing other peoples' songs and standing on the shoulders of musicians. I wonder what the impact would be if he was wholly unleashed to create a song from top to bottom.
This blog post was brought to you by Apple, who apparently brings us all things American Idol. Seriously, there is at least one MacBook Air, Ipod, and Iphone in every fucking episode.
Brooke White fucking cried again. For fuck's sake woman, put on your big girl panties! Pathetic. You wanna cry? I'll give you something to cry about and send your ass home. I seriously believe that this woman has some weird behavioral issues, and I imagine that most of the people who knew her before American Idol - you know, coworkers, aquaintances, people who see her walking down the street - would willingly stand in line to kick her in the cunt. I'm just saying, she strikes me as someone who is highly annoying.
April 01, 2008
...Is a fucking freak of plastic surgery, and I'm not talking about the tits. I can believe that those were OEM; however I wonder sometimes if their current condition is not...surgically improved.
But funbags aside, her teeth are way too...complete and white to be some coalminer's daughter's gear, okay? I mean, no one in The South over the age of 65 has all their teeth and naturally blonde hair! Doesn't happen.
The only explanation is that she's an animatron. Maybe she escaped from Chuckie Cheese's or The Wheel of Progress at Disney World; but I can garandamntee you she ain't not friggin human.
March 06, 2008
Fuck Fuck Fuckity Fuck
I can totally swear here. Cooool. Fuckers.
And *I* will allow comments. Swear away!
Huh. That's teh weirdness. Anyone else having problems viewing this main page? Like the next post down or so?
March 05, 2008
This show is totally lame this ye- WHOA. WHOA. Wait.
Carly Smithson's mom is fucking hot! Jesus wept!
But anyways, show's totally lame as hell.
Except for Christy Lee Cook. Mostly because The Wife is agreeable to the three of us sharing a dirty, dirty night of anonymity; but also because she is apparently familiar with wearing a leash, barking like a dog, and eating out of a bowl. Who doesn't love a good pet, right? Of course, we'd ruin her career. It'd be like being attacked by the Wonder Twins of mortal sin. It's not like she's a great singer, so maybe we wouldn't be missing much; but I digress.
Show's a total waste of time. You're better off just blogging or something.
March 03, 2008
So I'm sitting here, and I've been watching this show for the past 45 minutes called 'october road'. Yeah, they write it in lower case like that.
So anyways, it's one of these melodrama types; with the switching back and forth between two time periods: the main characters' childhood and their adulthood. The main people are these four or five dudes who all grew up together; and they're the biggest bunch of fucking pussies I've ever seen. I mean; when they're ten, they're crying about the chicks in their lives; and when they're 30 they're crying about the chicks in their lives and they're crying about the chicks from when they were ten.
So I sit for the entire episode, and the choronolgy switches so often that the only main overriding theme I can gleen from the whole thing between all the crying is that no one on this show has any balls. Except for maybe some of the chicks. They're the only ones not crying like babies about anything.
That's the last damn time I go channel surfing.
February 23, 2008
Hi, you might remember me; I used to blog here?
Look, if anyone's squatting here right now, I'll politely move on. However, if no one answers, I think I'm just going to go ahead and set up shop right here.
Matter of fact, it might be better if no one says a goddamn word, that way I can relish my own perceived isolation.
I might as well just turn off the stupid comments. Welcome back fuckholes.
November 23, 2005
We have moved!
We have officially moved. Please update your bookmarks.
November 10, 2005
Like I didn't know this already
I never, ever do this shit so don't give me any crap. And you know you want to do this one.
| You scored as James Bond, Agent 007. James Bond is MI6's best agent, a suave, sophisticated super spy with charm, cunning, and a license's to kill. He doesn't care about rules or regulations and somewhat amoral. He does care about saving humanity though, as well as the beautiful women who fill his world. Bond has expensive tastes, a wide knowledge of many subjects, and his usually armed with a clever gadget and an appropriate one-liner. |
Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0
created with QuizFarm.com
h/t to Ted.
November 09, 2005
Some frank admissions
If I think I can fart in a car or meeting and get away with it, I will. And I will deny culpability with extreme vehemence.
I wish nothing but the worst on the Optimist’s Club and all it’s members.
I daydream a lot.
For a slim guy, I can eat more than anyone I know.
I’m overly critical of everything.
If I shake someone’s hand I can’t relax until I can wash my hands again.
I hate recycling because I don’t like washing my garbage before I store it for days.
I will fight for the armrest on an airplane or in a movie theater.
I often find myself in contempt of others…for no good reason.
I do not like people who play golf. And talk about it.
My sense of humor will eventually be my downfall at work.
I wish I had a ten pound ball of Silly Putty.