Journal of the Everyday

2004-05-14T17:56:00.000-04:00

IT'S ALL GOOD

Sometimes, life can be great. You know, when nothing can seem to go wrong, everything you've planned is coming together, when you feel unstoppable and God best step off your nuts, or he's gonna get his jaw lit up.

This week has been the complete opposite of the above statement. See, me being the idiot I am, I decided that some people were trustworthy enough to borrow rather large sums of money from me. I was promised I would see it again, and I had no reason not to trust them. Now, however, 2 weeks after the borrowing commenced, I have yet to see dollar one of this money.

I'm not big on being stingy over a couple of bucks. If people ask if they can borrow $5, I usually give it to them without really expecting to get it back. $5 is not something to get all worked up about, and anyone who throws a bitch-fit about such a meager sum of money should be locked up somewhere dark and damp. Greedy assholes don't deserve sunlight.

This, however, was not $5. In fact, it was roughly 120 times that much. And I am PISSED.

Now, things wouldn't be so bad if they had paid me back, even a little bit later, but now they're asking for MORE. I told them they could all rot, and I hope they trip and break something vital to their bipedal movement. I guess I should've known better, but what can I say...I'm a big sucker sometimes.

So this one is dedicated to all 3 of you who don't have the general decency to pay me back after I helped you fuckers out. May your days be blessed with an allergic reaction to the sun, and your nights the burning fire of herpes. You fucking assholes.

2004-04-18T21:15:00.000-04:00

CANDIRIA IS THE SHIT

You'll have to excuse my lack of creativity or originality in the title, but I don't give half a fuck: Candiria is the shit. Period. A few years ago, some dirty hippie (Who happened to go to St. Mary's College, which I talked about earlier), after listening to them, said that the Grateful Dead were the best period. Hah!

What's Candiria? Candiria is a 5 piece band from Brooklyn, N.Y., that primarily combines hardcore, metal, and rap, adds a hefty helping of some smooth, spaced-out jazz, and sprinkles on top tribal beats, ethereal sounds, latin music, and other wierd shit they just pull out. The difference between Candiria and other bands who try this "fusion" of different sounds is that these other bands know jack shit about the style they're trying to incorporate...Candiria is more than adept at playing all the styles of music they throw into their completely original sound. Moreso, Candiria is comprised of 4 musicians who are world-class pro quality. Think they can't play your shitty Grateful Dead, you carrot fucking hairy Cyber-Hippies? You're wrong.

Let's get any questions out of the way now: Candiria is brutal. They murder your aural senses with time changes that occur in a subtle manner, suddenly, or GRADUALLY. Yeah, you heard me: These motherfuckers go from 90 bps to 160 gradually over 16 bars. While playing a complicated-as-hell riff. Could Jerry Garcia do that? No. All he could do was write shitty songs, get old, die, and have an ass-nasty ice cream named after him. Cherry ice cream? No thanks. I'd rather vomit up a bologna sandwich and eat it again.

They also can manage to play what seem to be random notes in complete harmony between all the members of the band over 32 bars, which is evidenced in their CD I just picked up, 300% Density. I know, it came out in 2001, but I've been slacking on buying their new album. I own Process of Self-Development, and have for a while, but finding 300% Density and The C.O.M.A Imprint (their other new one, which, you guessed it, I don't have) where I live is almost impossible. Finding a ride to the CD store an hour away that DOES have them is just fucking impossible.

So, if you like shitty music about flowers written by PETA enthusiasts, you might want to steer clear of Candiria: You people have an innate ability to like music with absolutely no talent involved. Not only that, but the off-timed drumbeats might confuse you people into thinking the band messed up...but they all messed up at the same time, LOL!11!!!11

But to you music lovers (I.E. People who think Blind Melon and Rusted Root are infected pimples on the face of all that is good and wholesome), beware as well: Candiria is not for everyone. Some people, especially you elitist death metal pricks, just hate music that isn't what they're used to. If you're expecting some 64th note solos played over the same rehased drumbeat thats been raped since the mid 80's, all while some cookie-monster sounding lead singer belts out praises to some bullshit god or talking about decaptiating whores with their swords of vengeance, you might want to skip Candiria too. And while you're at skipping them, you might want to consider swallowing a shotgun blast.

To those people who truly have an open mind about music, go buy 300% Density right now. It's an aural journey into heavy music that has yet to be created. These guys, while bearing a teeny tiny resemblence to the nu-metal trend (which just died a sudden, horrible death when people realized it sucked), are true originals and years ahead of their time. Go download "Without Water" to get a glimpse at the best fucking band on the planet.

2004-04-12T02:39:00.000-04:00

Money: The Ultimate Personality Test

Before I start ranting, it appears as though my current image hosting site is a piece of shit too. Fuck you, Villagephotos.

Anyway, with that out of the way, one of my friends sent me this junk mail ad for a personality test on some random site which I won't mention (www.thespark.com). I've taken enough personality tests in my teen years applying for jobs and a few others online to know they're bullshit: They usually end up making wide, sweeping general statements from questions you answered. It's like every fucking personality test on the 'net has been developed by that sham artist John Edwards.

So, I sat back thinking about what could possibly determine how a person is...and the answer struck me like a vegan outside of a fur coat galleria: Money.

Simply put, give someone $10,000,000.00 and see what happens. Sure, its an expensive test, but there is no other, more accurate way of showing how people truly are.

If someone is an asshole when they're poor or working class, they will be even more of an asshole when they're rich. If someone acts nice but is truly an asshole underneath, the multi-million dollar status and the power that come with it will unearth that nasty personality trait. Because he's fucking rich, and doesn't need half-wit friends like you when he can buy all the best friends. If someone is a truly giving and great person, then, not only will they become even more generous with that considerable sum, they will become broke because of all you rich assholes and schemers out there. If they were a tightwad with the $230 paycheck they got from McDonald's, don't expect them to loan you $200 to cover you insurance this month. Because it's THEIR money, you gold digging street walker.

Yeah. Not only would the money truly show the real person underneath, it would magnify their personality several times. Rich people tend to be insecure, fake, and pompous. Some other rich people, like Bill Gates, don't generally tend to change much, but instead figure they can buy a personality with a multi-million dollar house with person-sensitive digital artwork. Hey fuckwad: Thanks for providing evidence for me. Not only were you a thieving uber-geek before, but now you're a competition crushing/buying monopolizer...and your hair still looks like the ass-end of a labrador thats contracted mange. You'd figure with 70+ billion in your account you could afford a fucking haircut.

Why does money magnify how people are? Easy: People are greedy, power-hungry, and generally distrustful. There are exceptions to the rule, but none of these exceptions reside in either Congress or the House. Hell, those guys are assholes and they aren't even that rich. Imagine what a group Senators would be if their pay increased five-fold?

I, myself, don't fall under the asshole category...contrary to what you might think. I've come across a nice sum of money at one point in my life and I was pretty good about it...I wasn't slinging my money around to any person who needed a bag of chips or a video game (Especially those despicable jerkoffs who don't ever call you except to ask if they can borrow some money), but I wasn't tipping waiters the remaining change to make my bill even, either. God damn, I'm a pretty good guy.

So, who would you be if you ran across 10 mil? If you have to think about it, you're lying to yourself.

2004-04-10T14:36:00.000-04:00

You Are What You Eat

It's been a while since I had a McDonald's burger. I can remember, being a kid, loving Big Macs and double cheeseburgers from there. After getting 2 double cheeseburgers from the drive through just a little bit ago, I can honestly say this: I was a stupid kid.

The burgers were nothing less than the worst thing I've ever had to eat. I think I'd rather eat a block of Velveeta or go scavenging for grubs in the woods than eat another one of those grease-laden abominations of modern society. I didn't even eat more than a bite from the 2nd burger, and already I feel like I swallowed a cannonball or a small car.

It's not that "I'm-full-I-feel-good-time-for-a-nap" feeling you get with real food...it was more along the lines of a "I-think-I'm-going-to-vomit-a-VW" feeling. I can now, honestly, put getting a McDonald's burger around the top of my list of things I'd rather go through atmospheric re-entry naked than ever, ever do again.

To make matters worse, on the way home I managed to hear a "Mickey Deez" ad on the radio...if you haven't heard their new "urban" ad's, consider yourself untainted: the commercial starts with some sort of spoken word dialogue that's supposed to be similar to rapping, but sounds more like they pulled the geekiest white kid off the street and told him his motivation is making the shittiest ad ever, with hopes it will appeal to an urban audience. Also...they no longer want to see you smile, moreover, they want to make sure you feel that you're "lovin' it", complete with relaxed English and a hip-hop feel.

I guess this goes along the lines of all the other half-baked ads that have been popping up everywhere with an attempted urban feel...maybe someone should tell these people that the ads convey a "suburban white kid trying to be black" feel, and end up making the corporation and advertising company look like complete jackasses who should be beaten with a sack of brass doorknobs.

I'm serious. I just can't imagine any of our urban population somehow connecting to these ads anymore than people take a Mentos ad seriously. I'm most defintely a suburban kid, so I can't say for sure, but I think it would be more offensive than anything to see huge, multi-billion dollar corporations using slang and trying to hop on trends that went out the door 3 years ago to increase their bottom line. Next thing you know we're going to hear the Thong Song on a Burger King ad, complete with their new slogan, "Flame-Grizzle Is Da Shizzle, Word!"

On the positive side of things: My Brita filter is the shit. I have one of those square containers that reside in your fridge, not one of the attachments that go directly on the faucet. It's been about a month since I changed the filter on it, as I noticed my water starting to taste just a little bit like chlorine. So, naturally, I go to replace it. The filter is already thrown away, but believe me: If you had seen the black goo this thing had taken out of the water, you'd be afraid to drink anything from a faucet. It looked like someone had scraped the filter around in a gas station bathroom, and then just taken a shit on it. It smelled bad, looked bad, and, although I didn't try it, I'm sure the taste wasn't too pleasant either.

Brita has my eternal thanks and business. Out of all the bullshit "health" products circling the U.S. market these days, this is probably the best one. Fuck Aquafina, give me my Brita.

2004-04-09T04:41:00.000-04:00

St. Mary's College

Since everyone but 3 people (Mom included) hate me now, and I'm bored and need some sort of human contact, I figured I'd see what the peoples were doing tonight.

Mom was watching the History Channel. I opted to call the other 2.

They were heading down to St. Mary's College, a bastion of liberal arts, bug-eyed vegans, and hairy women. I told them there was no way in hell I was going down there. They wondered why, but I told them it was a long story and I'd rather go jump off a skyscraper, head-first, right into Rosie O'Donnell's vagina without a nose plug than ever, ever go back there. I made 2 mistakes the last time I went there:

My first mistake was actually going down there. My second mistake was talking to a student. I'll explain:

Walking up a path to the Juniors dormitories (It's named after some historical St. Mary's County figure) I could see a fair amount of people gathered, being fairly loud and obviously drunk. I assumed that, these being drunk college people about my age, I might make some new friends. I guess someone forgot to tell me that "making friends" involved the following list of prerequisites:

1. Knowing the entire Grateful Dead discography.
2. Playing the entire discography on a pawn-shop quality nylon acoustic guitar.
3. Sounding like shit doing it, and people loving you.
4. Nappy dreadlocks.
5. Clothes that look like they came out of a dumpster, but cost a fortune. It's "IRONIC".
6. No food with a face! Hah!
7. Owning a Volkswagen Beetle, Honda Civic, or any model of ridiculously priced luxury cars that a college student can't afford without daddies money.
8. A trust fund.
9. Avoiding contact with running water at all costs.
10. Placing pornography everywhere I live, but still being against "degradation of women."
11. Paculli.
12. Drinking beer that isn't domestic, because domestic beer is for losers or "townies". (More on that later)
13. A completely self-righteous opinion on everything, right down to dumb shit like eyelashes and box-folding.
14. Being pro-environment but still throwing beer and liquor bottles all over the college lawn.
15. Actually having to attend the college. People who are residents of the area are excluded, regardless of personality or education.
15a. Drug dealers are excluded. They may do drugs and/or fuck randomly, but full-time residence
on the college is not encouraged.
15b. Local girls with a hot set and a loose crotch are, likewise, excluded.
16. Listen to bullshit music that can't be from any later than 1962.
16a. "Popular" artists from that era are discouraged.
17. Knowing the entire menu at Starbucks by heart, including seasonal drinks.
18. Claiming you "love the county, it's beautiful!", but have seen roughly 3 square miles of it: The college, and a bar called The Green Door roughly 2 miles away from it.

So, anyway, I knew I was in for a rough night when I walked up to the crowd and introduced myself. The first question asked was, "Are you new here?" Me, being the idiot I am and taking their gracious welcome as, well, genuine, told them that I actually lived here. All of a sudden, I went from possibly being a new friend right to a leper that sleeps in elephant shit. Then the girl who asked if I was new here made the most fucked-up remark I've ever heard.

"Oh, he's a townie."

A TOWNIE? What the fucking hell? These people assume that since you live here, you must have been born and bred here. Yes, all the residents here engage in tipping cows and fucking their cousin who has a colostomy bag...for all 8 years of first grade! Hyuk! Since none of the students even leave the grounds (with the exception of going to Starbucks or just plain leaving), I guess they missed the extremely large MILITARY BASE.

I figured, oh, okay, rough start, no problem! So I figured I'd show them I wasn't some dim-witted, genetically challenged local with a bright future in road cone moving or fry cooking. A few people were sitting in a semi-circle of sorts, and were talking about vegan diets. I am no vegan. In fact, if I had to do this again, I would've walked right up to the circle of dipshits, bit the head off a live chicken, and spit it on some lucky persons lap. But, no, I was nice and stupid, so I figured I'd give a CON to their entirely PRO discussion of "no food with a face!"

Bad idea. I brought up the fact that millions of animals are killed in the mass-harvesting of fields. My points were dismissed as "stupid, mainstream, bullshit thinking" and that "there's far less animals killed in the harvesting process than by the meat companies!" One person even went the total jackass pseudo-intellectual route and used the word "corporate brainwashing." Whoops, I guess a differing opinion is bad! Especially when I don't see the big picture: They're in school, so they must know everything! Only people who know everything go to places to LEARN, am I right?

Makes no sense, right? Of course it doesn't. It's how these nonsensical professor puppets act: Like idiots with zero common sense. The funniest thing is that they think they're very open minded.

News Flash: Open-minded people don't find it necessary to judge others nor shove their beliefs down others throats. Which is exactly what you sorry fucks do on a daily basis, because you're trying to "make a difference." Real open-minded people lead by example, they don't throw pretty multi-colored flyers out and assume anyones stupid enough to actually read them.

Why not make a real difference, but down the bong for a few minutes, get a REAL education from this high-dollar college daddy is breaking the bank to send you to, and go change things in the REAL WORLD. Not the MTV REAL WORLD. The real world outside of your convenient little 3 square mile bubble where everything is fine, dandy, and smells like dirt, ass, and alcohol.

So I walked away. I walked to my car and went right the fuck home. On the way home I got a 7-11 hotdog and drank something with milk in it. Just out of spite.

Fuck St. Mary's College. I hope each and every one of their whining liberal asses gets eating by something. Either that or daddy pulls the money because he discovers Junior is smoking the shit out of his several-grand-large allowance and the poor dipshit is forced to work a shit job. A shit job I'll go into and treat them like shit. Because they deserve it.

2004-04-08T22:13:00.000-04:00

One Day at a Time

As you can see by the spiff-a-riffic new header I'm looking to revamp this lifeless lump of a blog into something a bit more aesthetically pleasing. Considering I know less about HTML several of you 40-year-old virgins out there (and most of you early teenagers...damn you and your adept web knowledge), some patience (and possibly a suggestion) would be, well, great. I suck at this whole web page thing with the absence of Dreamweaver, so I'm going to be hitting up quite a few web pages out there for some ideas and inspiration. It's going to be an ugly, rocky ride, but well worth it. Possibly. If I end up editing myself into a hole I guess I'll just have to reset the whole damned thing. That is, if my "free" image host doesn't decide to slap the "your account has expired" bullshit on me again. I'm a cheap bastard, yes.

I got this e-mail today. It's my first comment on this place, ever, and (not suprisingly), it's not a good one.

your blog is so full of shit i can't believe your typin this shit out!!! i mean, more shit happens to you that happens to anyone else i fuckin now!! stop fuckin lieing and tell everyone your a 30 yr old fag who lives with you mom and 20 dogs that you fuck cuz you cant get pussy, you fuckin fagass. maybe one day youl get a real fuckin job and maybe some pussy and you wont need this fuckin site cuz you kno its shit! fuck you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I refrained from using their name, but whatever. Aside from the total avoidance of the letter "g", I guess I really can't find any substance in his post. Looks like I'm making an impact! Hah Hah!

Surprisingly, I've had 3 votes on Hot or Not, and I'm shocked this place is still above a 5 in the rank. It's actually a 9.5, so take that you coffee sucking bohemians! A 10, a 7, and a 1...somehow comes out to equal 9.5 (must be "Fuzzy Logic") but I won't bitch.

Actually I should bitch, but I really don't feel like it. I have had no human contact since the raving, drunk lesbian incident (See "Lora") except for the uber-sexy girl who came to buy my car today. She's married, I already know this, but a guy can still look, right? She liked the car, while the whole time I was thinking about the backseat and how woefully inadequate it would be. Along with being a cheap bastard I'm a perv also. Don't let this one go by ladies, the ship is about to set sail.

2004-04-08T04:50:00.000-04:00

HOT OR NOT?

Yes. Aside from my recent mental revelation (where I really did stop giving a shit) and renewed sharpness due to the lack of negative chemicals in my bloodstream (I'm still getting back my coherence, gimmie a break here), I've always been one thing: An attention whore. I love attention from girls, I love attention from people. Most people are attention whores, I've actually got a set big enough to admit it.

So I'm doing something I shouldn't: I'm putting myself on the Blog: Hot or Not website. Basically I'm taking a cue from Cameron over at the Unbelievably Retarded Blog (READ IT). Like him, there's nothing in this about triple latte's, metrosexual styles, or Coldplay, so I doubt I'm going to get anything over a 2. I look at it like this: I'm not here to please any of you Mini-Cooper driving tools, and if I score a rating of 3 or below I know I'm doing something right.

Mini-Coopers are a fugly joke of a car. Yeah, that's right, you heard me.

So, rank me! Hot or Not? Geez, this is what American Idol contestants must feel like!

2004-04-08T04:03:00.000-04:00

LORA

Lora's name has been changed. Lora is a crusted over douche nozzle of a lesbian bitch who I'd like to jam into a box and toss over a cliff. On fire. With the words, "If you find this box on fire, don't put it out. Nevermind the screaming, its a recording." etched on the side with a chainsaw.

Pissy drunk on cheap beer from a cheap bar, Lora, Lora's Ex (who we'll refer to as "Ex"), and I were riding in Ex's car on what should've been a short and uneventful car ride. Instead of describing the situation, I've felt it a better idea just to lay it out in script form. It's a little simpler than what happened, but you get the gist. If some of Lora's dialogue makes no sense, sound it out aloud...

[SCENE OPENS: A small 4 door Ford, on a dark country road. The 3 passengers are lit by the glowing backlight of the CD player, which is playing "Until The Day I Die" by Story of the Year. I fucking hate Story of the Year.]

Lora (drunk) : Soh, like, da beetch just stuckma hahnd down her cratch annit was all WEHT! HAHAH! Ohhhhhhh, you guys you guys you guys...Barry* and Donny** are comin' overrr to pickh-hup somma mah stuffs in a coupla minutes...

Ex : Oh God no, I hate Barry. You know that motherfucker tried to rape me when I was passed out a few months ago? I am NOT going to be in the same fucking house as him!!

Lora (stupid bitch) : Nawit'll be ohhkay, I prohmis! Juscommon overh an it'a be ahight.

Me : Ex, it'll be alright. Just chill out in the room with me.

Ex : Alright I guess, I'll chill with you for a few minutes.

Lora (deserves herpes) : Whahtdafukk?? You muthafahkaz wattyagonnadoo FAHK INMA ROOOM? WHATDAFAHK BITCH!

Ex: Lora...

Lora (bad breath) : SHADDAFAKKAP! FAHK YOO TONEH FOH TRINETA FAHK MAH GUHRL! BOTHUVYA KIN FUHHKIN JUST FUKKHOFF...

[Lora gets out of the car about 30 feet from her house and still manages to walk the wrong way. An Eclipse barely misses her. She flicks off the eclipse and falls down in her yard screaming about something.]

* - Asshole
** - Asshole

If I seem bitter right now, I'm not. I'm pissed. Royally fucking pissed. Not only is this a girl who I considered a friend, but I've bailed her stupid ass out of more jams than I can count. I guess me and Ex were being friendly at the bar, but hell...Lora was busy talking about which girls she wanted to fuck as well as making it perfectly clear that her and Ex were not, I repeat, NOT a couple.

But yet, me saying "Hey, let's stay at drunk bitch's house and be there while she deals drugs!" was, somehow, me trying to fuck Ex in Lora's bed. I mean, I've been able to do it in 2 minutes before...not by choice...

And, to add to all this boiling-over shit crock, my ex-girlfriend was trying to fuck Barry (She probably fucked Donny too) and the two were having quite a good time dissecting every bad thing I've ever done and laughing and carrying on. It's too bad Barry left out the parts where his girlfriend kicked his sorry ass on the street for stealing her truck and using his rent money for cocaine. Asshole. And to my ex-girlfriend (I know you're reading this): I enjoyed blowing you off. Give me a second chance so I can both blow you off and key your piece of shit car with the words "BURNS WHEN I PEE" on the fucking hood.

So this is where I live. These are the people I've found to have the least amount of drama. I run the risk of alienating myself from everyone I know. To be left alone, out of the circle of social interaction. All for just speaking exactly what I feel.

Sounds like one HELL of a good idea.

2004-04-07T12:36:00.000-04:00

THE MAN IS B(L)ACK

My favorite comedian is back come April 17th. The man whos shares the same last name as I do, Chris Rock, has a brand new special coming on HBO. This is an event for me. This is to me what the Superbowl is to millions of middle-class dads. The man is brutally honest and funny, he targets nothing but ignorance and stupidity, and leaves behind a wake so vast and so hilarious its no wonder he's the king of stand-up.

Richard Pryor has met his successor, and his name is Rock.

A lot of people I know aren't going to watch this show. In fact, a lot of people I know think Chris Rock's standup is racist and vulgar. These people, not suprisingly, have never seen any of his standup, and just go by what other people (who, also, haven't seen his standup) say, and that's that. End of discussion.

If you're one of those people who has never seen his shows and has a negative opinion of the man, swallow your white pride and tune in. Give him 10 minutes. If you are not laughing your ass off through at least half those 10 minutes, you should probably check for a pulse. Or you need a better sense of humor.

So, PEOPLE: April 17th, on HBO. Chris Rock. Funny. Watch.

2004-04-06T12:26:00.000-04:00

WORTHLESS

Okay, so I'm surfing the web the other day. In the midst of me going about my business, a friend wants to send a pic over AIM. I have to disable my firewall in order to receive files from people, and, in doing so I notice two little icons in my taskbar. Both of them are programs that I did not click on, choose, request, or even consider looking at. Both of them do not have a cancel option.

So, after they install themselves to my hard drive, I have to go through the entire process of finding out which bullshit software company decided that I'm the lucky one who was chosen to run these useless piles of code. Then I uninstall the software through the control panel...or try to. One of these (Called NetBouncer, because I really fucking need it) uninstalled fine, but some other software called 2nd Thought (Which, as of this writing, I still don't actually know what it does) was a bit more problematic. 2nd Thought does not do the normal program thing in putting itself in the system registry. You have to DOWNLOAD the uninstall program which, and this is the funny part, goes ahead and installs even MORE software I DON'T FUCKING NEED. Visit this wonderful company at www.2nd-thought.com, and send them an nice email. I did:

Dear Bullshit Upstart:

Thank you for invading my hard drive with a useless program known as 2nd Thought. I appreciate the fact that your software eats infected dick and must be installed under peoples noses, since no person in their right mind would want some pile of shit that does nothing but take up a few blocks of space and adds another icon to their desktop. Oh, and thank you for making it so easy to uninstall! I love how you bypassed the entire "software registry" deal and make people visit your site to uninstall the program, that way you can get more hits! Brilliant marketing strategy! I'm currently investigating a way to sue your collective asses for all the money you have since you find it acceptable to rape peoples internet connections and privacy for your own personal gain and well-being. If your software was worth anything you wouldn't have to slip it by us and NOT give us the option of canceling the download before it installs. May a water bottle fall under your brake pedal and cause you to slam headfirst into any various objects that won't kill you from the impact right away, so you can sit in horrifying pain and agony while reflecting what kind of a devious and parasitic live you've lived, choking on your own blood and bile, until you die a horrible screaming death engulfed in fire. I hope people laugh at you and steal parts of your car while this happens, you fucks. I also hope William Hung comes on the radio.

Have a nice day...IN HELL!

No point in being courteous. I mean, if it was a program I would've wanted and was having issues with, like, let's say Dreamweaver was messing up, I would be a bundle of sunshine. But in this case, what incentive to have in being nice? This shit is all over the internet, and it's about up there with people who talk in L337. If you don't know what L337 is, consider yourself one of the lucky few.

Why do people need to throw their programs on your computer while you're not looking? Because it's the only way they'll get used. Quite often these programs have no real useful function, or they can't even DO the function they're supposed to in the first fucking place. Not to overuse an old axiom, but I'd like to gather all the software devs in the world responsible for this type of bullshit in one place and drop 2 tons of army ants on them. Then I'd take their meat-cleansed skeletons, grind them up, and send them to any other software dev who's thinking that it might be a good idea to do this shit.

Know what this software is? It's a stupid virus. It lets you know its there, it doesn't do anything, and you can get rid of it. You people KNOW we won't use this shit.

Fuck all of you sorry fucks. I wish dysentery on each of you.

2004-04-01T21:17:00.000-05:00

SHIT

Of course, my image hosting site seemed great until they sprung that fucking "Your Limited Trial Period is Over, Please Get Our Premium Membership" bullshit. I don't remember seeing a 30 day trial period when I signed up...of course, I really wasn't looking for it either. Oh well, I'll find something.

Anyway, thoughts have been going through my mind like crazy. At this point, I'm pretty much socially inept and unwilling to leave my house for any reason other than to check my mail. Which, I'm still waiting for my fucking tax refund check, considering it was sent out in, oh, I don't know, January.

Basically, I'm on "fuck you" terms with just about everyone in this county...but I get the feeling that when I pull up my bags and dip out for the armed forces, things are probably going to be the same wherever I go. Not that it's that big of a deal really...I'd rather have about 4 good friends than 100 two-faced liars and shittalking acquaintances. We all remember high school, right?

I'm just not too sure why people tend to be generally shitty towards each other off the bat. I'm no different, being I'm an asshole and all (Which would explain a few things), but it's a curious question to wonder about: Why is your first reaction to 99% of people you meet "I want to redirect a compact European car into your asshole"?

Girls especially. Violent, evil things you girls are to each other. Only when the other girl isn't looking, of course.

It seems a bit contradictory that folks cry and bitch about us going to go bomb brown people in the Middle East but then can't seem to pry their overly loaded wallet open just enough to leave a waitress a decent fucking tip. Or some PETA assholes can bitch and cry that we don't treat animals with decency, and tend to treat the rest of humanity like a piece of crusty shit they just scraped off the bottom of their boot. Because they eat meat. Like we're supposed to.

If you're going to be a dick to people, please be a an Equal Opportunity Dick, or at least to those who deserve it. If you're a total jackass to everyone you meet, an abusive spose, or some fuckoff kid who snorts coke on mommy's money, I simply don't think you have the right to complain about anything. You're the jerkoffs who make life a Daily Bataan Death March.

Sidenote: The next motherfucker who pays for a newspaper and a pack of gum with a credit card is getting a heel to the back of the skull.

2004-03-28T23:24:00.000-05:00

SUNDAYS AND ME

We don't get along. Sundays, I mean. I actually started serving tonight at this little seafood joint by my house...if 20 minutes can be considered "by". It wasn't bad, minus the lack of any of the hot girls working there actually being, well, out of high school. Okay, there's this one, and she's 21, and she's hot...hot with a kid and a husband. I swear I have the worst luck.

Not like a "relationship" with co-workers is ever a good idea. Ah, well, looks like I have to keep myself vigilant. Keep my head up high...the head on my shoulders.

I was invited to some party at some camp in some 5 bedroom house someone rented. It's supposed to be this huge bash, and I get invited from people I haven't heard from in nearly 3 months. These people completely cut me off but then ask if I want to come to a party...and pick up some beer for people who I could give 2 shits less about. And front them the money. Until April. Yeah...

I'm doing the thing that's probably best for me...staying home, getting sleep, waking up early for a fun-filled day of running laps and stomach crunches. God I love it all. I really do. It's actually a refreshing experience to drag my out-of-shape ass across the reigonal park while the sun peaks its little glowing head up over the trees. Hell, if I stay outside long enough, I might actually stop looking like Casper jizzed all over me.

I'm on the verge, but I think I'm going to go ahead and do it: I'm going to cut all ties to all the people I know here, except for a select few. I've had enough of all of it, and I really think it's probably the best...to keep myself out of trouble, and to keep all their teeth intact. I mean, these guys are separate from the whole 'Jenny' crew (I have several crews, popular devil I am), and, although they know about her overdose and me enlisting into the Military, several of these fuckwads insisted I do some cocaine with them. I mean, it was like one of those cheesedick D.A.R.E videos you had to watch in school come horrifyingly real. Okay, horrifying is a bit strong of a word...comical fits it better. I actually had to restrain myself from laughing.

Thinking back, I should've probably just laughed in their sorry fucking faces. I think I'd feel a whole hell of a lot better. It's been a while since I've been a complete asshole to some lucky, deserving soul. I think it's about time.

Besides that, I've been hacking up nasty shit the past few days. I hope this whole "quitting smoking" thing starts having better results than me leaning over my bed at 6 a.m. and chucking a throat oyster into the trash can.

2004-03-28T05:26:00.000-05:00

REMEMBER THE FIRST AMENDMENT?

Okay, not to avoid the title, but I had a freak-out moment with 2 fortune cookies today. If you've been reading this at all, then you know I've had what amounts to the Shittiest Month in All of Eternity. Well, you also know that I've decided to enlist into the Air Force (and I'm getting shipped in July, in case you missed that). Now I'm at the point where I'm going to be picking my occupation in the military, and I get these two fortune cookie messages. Hokey, I know, but bear with me...I'm human, and a cookie telling me these things tends to wierd me out a bit:

Your destiny has been laid out in front of you this month. You picked the right path.

You will travel to far-away lands and begin a new life.

While, yes, I know fortune cookies are random messages packed into oh-so-delicious little folded, crispy wafers, these two just got me.

Anyway, time for me to stop being a fucking retard and get to the meat of the issue: Our First Amendment Rights are about to be truncated by an over-vigilant Commander-In-Chief. Being that I'm about the enter the military, I have to wonder if the CIA isn't reading up on this, but fuck it: If being in it means I have to adhere to this bullshit, I'd rather waste away the rest of my days. Howard Stern has been grilling President Bush lately, and it appears that Bushy is trying to use the FCC toshut Stern DOWN.

I'm not an advocate for Stern, nor am I a fan by any stretch of the imagination...but this is America, and if he wants to say these things, he is supposed to be allowed to. As long as he isn't broadcasting treasonous material effective to that of a violent overthrow of the U.S. Government or harm to our President, he should be able to damn well say whatever he wants. In this case, his "indecency" is simply not agreeing with our President. That's bullshit. This isn't fucking Cuba.

But wait, it gets better: All those fantastic shows we get on Cinemax and HBO? All that adult programming put in adult timeslots that we shell good money for? Yeah, you guessed it, the Federal Government wants it regulated the same way as our public broadcasts, and it's passing people. It's passing with very, very little resistance and yet it seems like the entire country is either completely fucking oblivious or just doesn't care...until Tony Soprano keeps saying "Friggin Heck!", for some reason.

We're letting these people suck our freedoms down the gutter, one after the other, and we, as a people, continually let it slide by. I'm tired of it. First it was the Patriot Act, now this. The Patriot Act was a slap in the face...passing a law in a panic-stricken nation to grant the Federal Government nosy-neighbor privilges. Now with this new legistlation, they're spitting a loogie on the back of our head: We don't even know it's happening, and we'll realize it later. I'm tired of this lackadasical nation doing not-a-fucking-thing and then get all whiney and bitchy after they realize they just got assfucked by Uncle Sam.

There is a petition at STOPFCC.COM and they're lookin for a million like-minded people who actually enjoy their First Amendment. SIGN THE FUCKING PETITION. Apparently, only 150,000 people, as of this writing, in this entire country of almost 300 million people, enjoy being able to speak freely. I'm signed up. The petition has been online for over a month, and it sickens me to see the real display of apathy towards this. What are you going to do when they take away our freedom to make petitions, protests, or otherwise complain? Move to fucking Mexico?

Sign it. SIGN IT. SIGN IT NOW, SEND IT TO YOUR FRIENDS, HAVE THEM SEND IT TO THEIR FRIENDS. Do it people, otherwise, grab the KY Jelly and be prepared for rectal bleeding.

Oh, and to all you twats who think kids are so fucking stupid that they imitate everything they see, let me ask you this: If their parents are so goddamned fucking great, why aren't the kids imitating them instead of some random fuckwad seen on the newest HBO series?

Because all of you neglectful, sorry fucking excuse for parents out there SUCK.

2004-03-22T02:27:00.000-05:00

ANOTHER BORING NIGHT

Yeah, after my little run in on Friday/Saturday (whatever fucking day it was), I haven't been feeling up to doing anything at all. It seems like the whole world is moving in slow motion, and I'm moving even slower...the clocks used to just fly by as I distracted myself time and time again with various little things, be it drugs, video games, or bad TV. Unfortunately for me, all the distractions have been ripped away from my face I'm now staring down the cobalt blue barrel of life for the first time in my life, and I would give anything to not be.

It's an entirely selfish desire to not want to grow up...you want to keep the party days going forever, and usually that means hanging out with people who are younger than (or as big a loser as) you are. Most of my friends are still my age, early 20's or so. I have a feeling that if I keep going the way I'm going, I'll end up like "Wayne", a 28 year old still living at home, still driving his moms car, and still can't keep a job for shit.

And, as much as I love going out, getting wasted, and having random sex, I think a little structure system is needed here. I've already talked to the Air Force recruiter, and things look good. My previously disregarded high ASVAB test score is getting me some nice things from the U.S. Military, who, even in these "patriotic" times, are still lagging behind in new recruits. I'm going to be going to PT for the next few months, some with the guy from the Air Force and some of it on my own. Hell, I'll be one sexy motherfucker when my transfer time comes up, all cut and muscled up n shit.

It's odd for me. I've never had a bit of structure or discipline in my entire life (Thanks, Dad) and it's finally coming back to bite me on the ass. I used to see it as a blessing that I was given free-roam of the Earth, as long as Daddykins didn't get word of anything I did. And I did some horrendous shit in my time.

I guess it's time to pay the piper. It's all for the better, I guess. At the very least I'll be getting some self-discipline in my veins and put in better physical shape. I'm also going to be getting a nice education while I'm at it, all free-of-charge, and getting paid decent money to boot. To get the hell out of this shithole of a county (and state) is just a bonus.

I'm shipping off to boot come July. That is, if I pass all my physicals (Which should be no problemo, hombre). For a bit this place is going to be inactive, but you can be sure that if I get a chance to come back on here and give you guys a followup I will. I hadn't realized there are quite a few of you reading this, and I thank ya.

Until then, I'll be around until mid-summer. I can't even start listing the people I'm going to miss when I leave, so I won't bother. Half you fuckers never call me anymore anyway.

2004-03-20T06:21:00.000-05:00

JENNY

Jenny is a beautiful girl I've had the pleasure to know since November. She's got a gorgeous smile, an intoxicating laugh, and wild eyes that show both a kid and an adult behind them. She's beautiful on the inside and out, and she can make anyone smile, at any time.

I love Jenny, as a friend, as a person, in every way possible, I love that girl. She has made me laugh more in these few short months that I've known her than many friends and acquaintances I've had for years. She is caring, a bit scatterbrained for sure, but still one hell of a good party partner.

Jenny has had her name changed in this column. Jenny overdosed on cocaine last week. This beautiful, smiling, laughing, outgoing girl that everyone meets and loves was tied up to tubes in a hospital, and we almost lost her. We almost lost those wild eyes. We almost lost the hundreds of fantastic memories Jenny will make for us in the coming years.

I almost lost one of the greatest people I have ever met. If I was going to be living in a world where I could not reach out and hug her, or talk to her, or just know that somewhere she's making people happy (like she usually does) I have to wonder If I want to be in that world at all. This entire fucking planet is better because she is here.

As I write this disjointed and blunt column without my usual flair or humor, know that as I sit here I am on the downslide of a night full of Ecstasy pills and beer. I'm cracked out, fully representing the "night person" I referred to in a different column, and wondering what the fuck I am doing to myself.

I think my mind is made up. I'm making a massive change, starting today. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go sit in my shower for a few hours, in the hopes of actually feeling clean when I get out. After what I heard tonight and what I did tonight, I don't think I can ever feel the same way again.

Jenny...we love you. Please don't leave us.

2004-03-18T05:53:00.000-05:00

UNTIL THE DAY I DIE...

I love early morning. I love how the dim blue starts to melt away the black of the night and the ugly orange glow from streetlamps. I love how deep watercolor aqua starts creeping up from the horizon and how the day is born. I think any sunrise can beat the shit out of any sunset on the planet.

If you haven't guessed by my post times, I'm pretty much a night person. I'm not of the daytime variety of folks you see, and would be perfectly fine with 6 months of darkness like Alaska gets...of course the 6 months of daytime would drive me insane and the temperature...let's just not go there.

The night is for the people who don't go along with the day style of living...and yes, they're different. Day people generally have day jobs and can't stay out through the night because of these day jobs. Night people might very well have the same day jobs, but don't give a fuck about 4 hours of sleep. They revel in the night, the artificial lights and loud sounds providing a cover for them...it helps them along, becomes as much of a part of their outfit as any shirt or pair of pants are.

We, the night people, are a different breed. If wasting time was an Olympic event, we as the nightowls would be in the running for the gold. We're the people you see in 7-11, as the morning people are in getting their coffee and their criossant, we're in there getting some water and some Advil to get this nasty taste out of our mouth and kill the headache we have. And would someone answer that fucking phone?

We sleep until dinner time. We stay awake until breakfast is ready...not saying we don't eat breakfast, but it's generally after 3 p.m. We're the strung out looking people in all-you-can-eat buffets, smoking like chimneys and having conversations with the intellectual equal of a wet bag of rocks.

I love being a night person. It has its disadvantages, sure...people drop out of the lifestyle all the time that you don't want to, and people come in to the lifestyle you don't want to. Or your friends little sister starts going to the same club you do. But that's just plain fucking weird .

2004-03-17T17:31:00.000-05:00

HAPPY ST. PAT'S

That's right, Happy St. Patrick's Day! It's amazing to me that a Wednesday can be the biggest drinking day of the week, and it's socially acceptable to dump green dye into your keg (We have one chilling in ice with about 2 bottles worth of the stuff in it now). I love it, and I hope everyone out there has a safe, drunk, and happy St. Patty's.

Stuff of note: I'd like to take the time out to recommend some music I've been listening to as of late.

Soilwork Figure Number Five : Of course, if you're an oldschool fan of Soilwork, you might be passing this album up or just dismissing it, but you're missing out. True they've simplified and slowed down a bit, but not all that much. The title track just plain rocks, Departure Plan goes from a minimalistic drum and melody piece with a nice mood, starts to pick up momentum and crashes into a soaring chorus with an eerily Depeche Mode-type spoken/sung part in the background. Overall, the album is great, it's catchy enough for a lot of the nu metal addicts but still has a lot of underground aspects to make some of the hardcore bretheren happy. Overall, it's a happy medium of underground and mainstream, taking bits and pieces from all kinds of genres in both. Defintely recommended for people who are fans of Ill Nino, In Flames, Nothingface, Spineshank, and Killswitch Engage.

Spineshank Self Destructive Pattern : A lot of my friends dismissed their last album, The Height of Callousness , and dismissed this one as well. I don't think they're necissarily the greatest band ever, but they're damned good. From the heavy tracks like Stillborn, Slavery and the title track, to more melodic and radio-friendly songs like Smothered and, the album is just a wall of kickass and it's sad they've been overlooked like they have. It's also wierd how many songs begin with S.

Billy Talent Billy Talent : Possibly the oddest band I've listened to in a while, and loving every minute of it, Billy Talent takes oldschool punk asthetics and modernizes them into an original and unique sound. At first listen of the single, Try Honesty, you might think they belong amongst other bands like Story of the Year and miscellaneous other screamo bands, but they're very different than that single protrays them as. The whole album just kills, so pick it up, it's pretty cheap.

Also Recommended:

Killswitch Engage: Alive or Just Breathing
Thrice: The Illusion of Safety

Happy listening and drinking.

2004-03-17T15:24:00.000-05:00

2004-03-17T03:15:00.000-05:00

SON OF A *BITCH*

Okay, so I got laid last night. I slept so good, let me tell ya. I slept right through my alarm to being one hour late for work. They told me they already had a replacement, and I should head on home, being as the guy was already there and NOT late like some other irresponsible employess we have.

Okay, maybe I was a bit bitter at the time. But then the manager (We'll call him...Mr. X) gives me a call up at my place, asking me to come into work as soon as I could. Of course, I had no idea what it could be about at first. I thought about it, and got a sinking feeling.

You know it's rough. I've been going through a bit of a crunch as of late and things just keep dropping to the side...everything it seems like keeps slipping out of my hands. It would be nice if I could blame it on abusive or neglectful parents, but I had a decent upbringing...which also rules out the laying of blame on society. I was pretty sheltered from it for a time (until halfway through middle school) but I went through the same motions most people did who went off to college.

It makes me feel a little better that the economy is bad and the few people I know who are now out of college are barely making half of their tuition in a year. I hate to sound like an ass, but other people struggling who put more work into life just makes me have some sort of sick satisfaction, like maybe I'm not that bad off.

Of course the economy being bad is temporary and so is their status of being on the same level as me. I used to think that going to work for the past 5 years was my college, my learning experience. Of course, I missed out on a ton of frat parties and casual sex as a result...though I have my own memories those college kids would die to have lived through. But in the end I can see myself as the bartender with the punk kids in the semi-bad mid-low income neighborhood, hell, possibly smoking pot with my kids. I'm around it so much the poster family of middle class America seems to be just on the posters.

I'd love to get back into music, and I'd love to get myself back into school. I'd also love to blow golden nuggets into my kleenex instead of snot rockets, but I don't see any of them happening the way I'm going.

And, yes, just in case you're wondering, they shitcanned me when I went in. Nothing personal, we should hang out Tony, but we gotta let you go.

Eh...fuck...

2004-03-16T04:53:00.000-05:00

THANK GOD

Obvious and damning blasphemy aside, I really do have to thank God today. He sent me Stacey (Her name may or may not have been changed...it really doesn't fucking matter) and she sent me to Ohio. I needed that, I really did.

Sex is a fantastic, mystical, and completely dirty thing. Think about what you're during when you're being passionate: Kissing, rubbing, putting things where you would never normally put them. The brain pretty much has to fake you into sex...it's kind of like you just entered the Matrix. Sort of.

I love the way the outside lights cut through the blinds on my window and just shape her. The whole room is shades of dark blue with slats of white from the windows glowing in...it's a work of art. I love it when cars pass by and this light just splashes across the entire room, lighting up the two of us together. It's something that isn't a total mystery to me, but I don't think it happens nearly enough. Hell, I'd do it several times a day if given the opportunity and someone who I could care about that much.

It all seems to be forms of degredation and almost "I dare you to..." type situations if you just stop and think about it. It's quite possible that the attraction to the person almost requires you to break down your pride and your "reasoning" to show what you will do for them. There's almost no real reason to stick your tongue in a vagina, it can be a bit nasty if you think about it, but we do it gladly, ladies.

So it comes down to lowering yourself for this person, to humiliate yourself and act like a fucking beast, clawing, biting, pulling, throwing them around. It's probably the best thing The Man Upstairs gave to us next to hops and barley.

And, man, I give much respect to the girls when it's time for sex. Without a doubt, you have dirtiest, nastiest, filthiest jobs on the planet. We go in, you get it stuck inside of you...and I have no idea how in the hell that must feel, it's got to be strange. Not to mention our meat mushroom isn't exactly the prettiest of objects...I've had it described from anywhere to "ugly" to "funny looking flesh banana". Poor guy, he does all the work and I get the praise (or lack thereof).

Call me a sentimental sap, but I love cuddling after. Yes, true, both of you are sweaty and most of you girls reach somewhere in the area of 200 degrees farenheit, but the body cools and the sweat dries up. As sick as it might sound to spoon in the midst of all the stuff that is now layered on the sheets (sometimes pillows), again it all goes back to dragging yourself down to your inner animal. You can wash the sheets tomorrow. Depending on what you did, you might have to burn them.

Hell, depending on who you're with you might have to burn em. We won't get into that, and you should always wrap your jimmy, guys.

2004-03-15T00:40:00.000-05:00

FULL CIRCLE

So I'm a bit of a downswing as of late...no big deal. I've been down before, and I've fought my way up higher every time afterwards. Of course, this is unusually bad this time, and, my fresh new start might be taking place on the opposite coast...namely, I might be California bound in a month or two. I have a friend whos moving back over there (He had to go into voluntary rehab after being caught...life's such a bitch) soon and has a place with a room for me if I'm so inclined.

And I just might be. The east coast is for rich academics, hipsters, and rich senators daughters. We the people with low expectations (and a lack of being superficial) are not welcome additions to this place, this East Coast...where Mensa members run free and politicians hold up lines everywhere they go (or just completely skip them, as the case usually is).

It might be a conservative euphoria, it might be a yuppie paradise, and it might be the largest concentration of soccer moms on the planet, and it might be time for me to up and leave. I've often considered this, as we all do (And, by "we all do:, in this town everyone actually does) at one point or another, and it seems like a grand fucking idea: Self-high-five, big ups to me, ya betta reccanize, and all that jazz. I have the opportunity to go to a land where it rarely gets to freezing, where snow happens about as often as Steven Segal being in a hit movie, and where the ladies wear less and less as the months get warmer.

It'd be interesting. I'd probably be a "hick" to these people...even though I consider myself just southern enough to like cornbread. It'd be fun, shedding this slight drawl, and living in the sun a lot. I might actually get some olive color back in my skin...I'm starting to look like that kid Powder from the movie with the same name. God knows I have dark skinned heritage, and those who are supposed to have some degree of tan often look pretty terrible pale. I consider myself no exception.

What will I do when I get there? Probably what I'm about to do here...except...well, over there. I'm going back to the Temp agency and finding me a job that way. God knows I'd love to acquire a 9-5 mon-fri with benefits and decent pay (Who wouldn't?) because that allows my weekends to be free for amazingly large periods of getting fucked up. Hell, being where I can actually go outside for more than 4 months of the year, I might shed what's left of this belly.

I could stop drinking beer too, but that just ain't happening.

2004-03-13T12:38:00.000-05:00

WHAT A SHITTY WEEK AT WORK

Yeah, so the title is a little...obvious. I don't feel much like being creative at this point. First...like I said, I wasn't sleeping well. So I go into work on Wednesday, strung out and sleepy as hell...well, guess what? It appears that everyone thinks I was cracked out on some sort of medication. Truth be told, after work I enjoy inebriating myself, but not with perscription pills or any of that junk. A simple beer does me just fine. But during work? No. It's work, and as much as they dick me over I still have that responsibility of going in sober...but they also have the responsibility to not schedule me from 8 a.m. to 10 p.m. 3 days in a row...which they did.

So they sent my pseudo-cracked out self home, no biggie. I pounded a few shots in true alcoholic fashion (I'm starting to wonder) and passed out directly. So I get up the next day, bright and early, do all the chores and other little things begging my attention, and head to work that afternoon. Well, apparently, noone had told me that the episode the day before required me to tak to the general manager before continuing working. And, just for conveniences sake, he had left about 5 minutes before I got there.

Fuck.

So I go home again, go to sleep again. Wake up, go talk to the GM, and get everything straight. Gotta be to work by 8 a.m. the next day (Being Saturday...today), notta problem, boss! I'll be there.

Of course, me waking up to my clock (blaring its ugly green digital numbers at me) saying 9:15 didn't help anything. It's not like I stayed out, and it's not like I didn't set 5 alarms (2 on the clock, 3 on my cell phone), and I wasn't drunk or anything when I went to bed. Apparently my body likes to sleep 11 hours for no reason other than me getting written up at work, then sent home because my replacement was already in. I have about 15 hours these two weeks, and shit just keeps getting better by the fucking DAY.

So NOW I have a write-up, no hours, and have to be at work at 8 a.m. TOMORROW. I swear, I'm going to start going to bed at like 8 so even if I oversleep I'll still be up by 6 a.m. I do have bills to pay, and the way this is going I'm going to end up getting my car towed and have to file for fucking bankruptcy at the ripe old age of 23. I mean, you used to be able to work a decent job and have a decent life...but, like I said before, everything is so fucking expensive to LIVE here I'm about ready to save up a couple bucks and buy a country in Africa to live in...I might get swallowed by an anaconda, but sometimes I wonder if that's any worse than constantly being stressed out over money and safety, as most Americans are.

And they wonder why we're all so fucking uptight and violent here...we're pushed to the edge every single day and thats the NORM. It's easy to snap when you're so fucking tensed up.

I guess I'll make it through. Worse comes to worse I can be a bartender and live the rest of my life out in this wasteland of lost souls and deadbeat parents. Not exaclty President of the United States, but I'd have enough money to live and be too drunk to care about anything.

At this point, that sounds like the best solution. Now if you'll excuse me, it's almost 1 in the afternoon, and I need to get to bed early.

2004-03-11T14:07:00.000-05:00

I haven't been sleeping very well, and apparently it came to a head at work yesterday. I didn't think I was in THAT bad a shape, but apparently when my manager decided to sent me home (after thouroughly interrogating me about what drug i was on) I guess I realized I needed a good nights sleep. I've been fighting a pointless battle with insomnia the pask week...probably because I've got so many things to pay for and not enough money to pay for all of it. At least now...I racked up some debts in my time off, and, since I was "a shoo in" for that high paying job I didn't get, I was making plans to have that kind of lifestyle.

All in all I need about $1000 a month to get by...that would be without food or anything else. I figure its plausible to start getting that much soon, but I need that much NOW. And I don't seem to have any other resources besides my cruddy little job.

Maybe I should move out to silicone valley and become a video game tester...lord knows I play them an hour or two a day anyway, why not play them 8-10 and get paid for it?

Oh, and if you didn't hear already, our presidential candidate Mr. Kerry made quite a few dispariging remarks about the press...apparently while his microphone was on. Allegedly. It shows the general disdain for the public most of our great leaders have and, while I can understand a negative opinion of the press because they do some pretty stupid shit, these people can make or break your campaign, Mr Kerry. I'd think it'd be best you keep your little comments inside of your house where the CIA only has it bugged.

So who is everyone voting for this year? There's quite a few candidates with varied platforms that reflect a plethora of issues...but the ultimately all boil down to SSDE. Same Shit Different Election. Is it any wonder about 30% of the voting populace actually shows up? Voters aren't lazy and choose to not excercise their voting power...they just see no candidates on the ticket worth voting for. It pretty much feels like a waste of time to vote these days, because no matter who you elect they're going to do dumb shit and send the country even further into the flat spin its in at the moment.

Do they have the right to complain about whos elected? Some would say no, I say that if we just get a squad of bullshitting business-as-usual politicians who do nothing but provide for their own interests, and they feel nobody on the ballot is even worth putting n office, then they should complain. The elitist attiude of "Well, *I* voted and only *I* have the right to complain" might've been true when good candidates were simply buried in the votes of the popular...but I've been doing research on few of our new candidates, and to be quite frank all of them lick nut.

2004-03-10T00:13:00.000-05:00

CAMARADERIE

So today I go up for my interview for a my new, high paying job at an insurance company (I didn't get it, just in case you were wondering). The interview was cool, but something happened on the ride up that was much, much more memorable.

I was on my way up, and about 10 miles into the trip (45 mile trip, FYI) I found myself behind a white Blazer, a red Mustang GT, and a silver Acura. From one stoplight that was completely littered with dump trucks and cement trucks, we 4 snaked through the huge traffic blocking behemoths and made it to the promised land of the road...the open highway.

We all hit about 80 and just cruised, the Blazer leading the way. A little further up we encountered more traffic, and smooth as silk we stuck together. We were the fast cars on the road. We joined automotive hands and slithered our way through the slow cars on the road that blocked our way. We would squeeze into tight spots and slow down, widening a gap for the others to get in. We were the kings of the road then, passing everyone. We stuck in our group, knowing that no cop would pull over all 4 of us. At least, we hoped.

Eventually, we separated and went our own ways. One by one the Fantastic Four dropped out and made their way to their destination. As the cars pulled away, we each gave each other a quick glance and a smile and kept going. We left our houses as strangers and met on the highway as compatriots, lending a helping hand to each other so we could reach where we needed to go. And we'd go on with the rest of our busy days, leaving the events on the highway somewhere in the back on our minds.

Do I sound sappy? Yeah. It's not just about following some other cars. In a country where people can't trust the next person, or are afraid to talk to strangers, it brought a smile to my face to see four complete strangers join together without question. Even if it was for something as silly as not getting a speeding ticket, the fact remains that the normally selfish society we live in does produce good people...we're just too scared to show it. And the glances goodbye...that just told me that all the others felt the same as I did, which is extremely fucking cool.

This has happened before, but it was different this time. For 20 or so miles there was an unspoken camaraderie between us. If only we could be as cool to each other all the time, and not in our cars. We might not have to lock our doors at night or worry about our windows getting shot out.

Hey, I'm allowed a sappy post once in a while. Fuck you.

2004-03-09T00:16:00.000-05:00

TENDENCIES

I take a strange comfort in knowing that there must be a couple million other people right now contemplating a shotgun to the head, a massive overdose of medicine, or going to sleep with a blanket of car fumes. Suicide comes and goes out of my head pretty much on a daily basis, and I've learned to cope with it...but tonight there seems to be a rather strong onslaught of these thoughts. Could be that I've been out of high school for a while now and accomplished pretty much nothing...the thing I swore I wouldn't do. But here I am, barely getting by with my car, measly rent, and a few bills. Thank God for beer, sex, and weed, or else I probably would be popping a metal slug into the roof of my mouth right now.

Then there's my friends. Or, rather, "friends". (I love the power of the quotation marks) Lately, since I lost my GOOD job and have been scraping by, my phone has been noticeably silent. Also, they seem to not want to return any phone calls, voice mails, or text messages. It could be that I've been a depressed cock since I've gotten fired...but it could also be that they're a bunch of fucking assholes. I don't know at this point, but whatever is going on it sure as fuck isn't helping my situation out.

I'm not on good terms with my parents either. Ever since my dad saw me slipping a few of his Hydrocodone into my pocket all those years ago, we just haven't been the same. I went from golden boy to black sheep in a matter of seconds...and let's not talk about what they said when they found the condom in my pocket. I mean, hell, I was 19 at the time. No better time for a little booty, right?

So, there's a silhouette of a very ugly picture I'd like to call my life. I've consumed a few alcoholic beverages tonight in a very alcoholic way...by myself. Also, that joint did me right. So, as of now, I'm pretty fucked up and rambling about my dark, innermost feelings. Great night.

I suppose it'll pass, like it usually does. I've had the notion to just cut all of my "friends" off with a quickness and get my shit straight once and for all. It is, after all, a long time between now and my eventual dirt nap, so I might as well make myself comfortable and get a killer car in the process. Fuck living how you want to, Capitalism and the high cost of living in America demands you make over $50,000 a year to survive. Maybe I can start selling crack to elementary school kids...hell, easy lunch money.

So, to all of you people having a thought of dangling from a tree or imagining how you'd look after a quick trip down the outside of a 30 story building, I tip my half empty Bud Light to you. Hold on, buckos, because if the world gets any worse there'll be a nuke going off in your town anyway, and you won't get punished in eternity for it. Unless you're a total asshole anyway.

2004-03-08T15:02:00.000-05:00

HONKEY PARANOIA

Okay, so I looked up the FBI's terrorist list and the two guys at the gas station aren't on there. I'm relieved, both because the "axis of evil" doesn't reside a quarter of a mile from my house and because I generally like these guys. I guess it's just white-boy paranoia seeping up on me again, you know. I know no planes are going to come crashing through my roof...hell, I've got a bigger chance of being eating by a fucking T-Rex.

White people in America seem to be overly tense nowadays. Maybe it's the recent numbers stating our grasp on the majority of the population might be slipping. Maybe it's the recent outburst of multi-racial kids and interracial dating. Me, personally, could care less who's the dominant "race" in America...I guess I was under the fools impression that race didn't matter and we were all Americans, not African Americans, Hispanic Americans, Italian Americans, etc. This racial division is causing more fucking problems than anything...while, I agree whole heartedly that different ethnicities should embrace their culture...they are living in America. If they don't like our culture (Which are guns, drugs, video games, and McDonald's) I'm sure their motherland will take them back.

I mean, really...what did they want to do? Make another Guatemala here? I'm all about a bilingual society, but the leastthey could do was make a concerted effort to learn the native language of America...which is not Espanol, thank you. Maybe in time Americans will be as fluent in Spanish and French as they are in English, since those seem to be the big two languages being integrated in American Society...but for now, a rudimentary knowledge of English would be a great thing.

On the flip side of this, racism is a huge problem in America. Solution? Paint everyone green.

That might sound like a silly answer, but it's about as ridiculous as the notion that the amount of pigmentation in someone's epidermal layer actually fucking matters. I've just recently had the hope that interracial dating and multi-racial children will be come so dominant in America that eventually all the blacks, whites, Hispanics, and Asians will eventually cross-pollinate into one race that will become the dominant race in America...the true American.

And its funny, if you think about it...the children of that gene swapping would look an awful lot like the native Americans. Creepy shit.

NEW LINK: Dubyaspeak. Think George Dubya is an idiot now? Wait till you read THIS site.

2004-03-08T02:46:00.000-05:00

NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH

You know, I've had half a mind recently to check on the FBI's most wanted list. These guys who work at the local gas station...Well, they drive cars way too nice and dress in clothes much too fashionable to be supervisors and cashiers at a Shell station. True, they might be set for life in some other enterprise (I hear the poppy plants are quiet popular in the sands of the Middle East...put down the torches, people: It's just speculation) and are just doing this whole gas station thing for kicks...but you never know. Add that to the fact that they're right next to a major military installation and questions arise...

Not that I'd like to see these guys get into any trouble. They're generally nice guys and have offered to smoke me up a couple of times...once I accepted, of course. But, you just never know. With all these uncertainties and questions arising from terrorists (George Dubya being, in my opinion, the biggest hatemonger on the planet...with, quite possibly, the worst grammar) and the like nowadays, it's no wonder I think the guy peddling me cigarettes could possibly be Osama's second cousin. Hell, with the fucking rednecks I live around I'm surprised these guys haven't gotten plugged yet. Or at least toilet papered by the nednecks stupid nedneck kids.

It's interesting that the "land of the free" pretty much means the free pair of socks you get after buying four other pairs. With this Patriot Act bullshitwe have as law now, our Constitutional Rights have been castrated in favor of the government having an easier time dealing with bombs and other bits of nasty business. Not that any of the other countries are much better, but at least in Amsterdam you can smoke a bunch of shit and get everything off your mind for a little bit. Here in the USA, we've got to sneak our nasty little habits around. It's funny the amount of people who do this, too. You'd be surprised that your (or your kids teacher) goes home and blows back a joint or takes a line after work. Most of the old druggies have given up the illegal drug scene in favor of the vomit-riddled quest for alcohol in all its forms. Okay, enough talk about that for a bit...I can go on for millennia about how I feel on that subject...and I probably will, so just be ready for it.

So could my boys from the corner Shell station be the bad guys from the Taliban? I doubt it. I'm going to check anyway, because I'm as paranoid as the next guy about this kind of stuff...whether you want to admit it or not. Also, like most of you, I couldn't tell if they were Iranian, Iraqi, or Saudi Arabian. Hell, they could be from fucking Australia...I've never been very good at discerning race other than the old standby's White, Black, and Other.

And I think it's time for some sleep. I've got a hard day off tomorrow...got an interview for a possible new job (God knows my job as a server right now isn't exactly shitting me golden eggs come payday) and I gotta look my best...and bags under my eyes aren't a good idea.

Hasta Luego