Tuesday, November 28, 2006
You know what happens when you push someone away? They seeth, they rasp, they shake their fists at the sky!
"Sometimes they even roil and occasionally gnash their teeth!!!"
Then comes the dejection...
You wonder why. And where. And just the fuck when. Slipping, so slow you don't even notice it.
"Until too late?"
Take it away and you no longer hold sway. Plots and schemes will take form and refuse to be held at bay. There's no other way, I'm afraid to say...
So here I am just hangin' around, swinging aimlessly, telling you a cryptic story/ life lesson. Yet I can't tell you how it all turns out, as I haven't gotten there yet. All I can say is...
"Fight the powers that be!!!"
And prudence be damned!!!
Get with the program people. I can't do this by myself anymore...
I feel like I've been kicked away from the table for farting.
"Ever been there...?"
So it's 12:30 in the am and I'm extremely baked and bored, near bedtime. Listening to more parts of the complete Erasure discography (Other People's Songs at the moment), being piece fed to me daily. Which is fine with me, I get to get acquainted again with fantastic music day to day, hour to hour, all that jazz...
"Or should I say POP?"
I guess I could rip on Kramer, but look at the poor guy. Practically bending over backwards to apologize over flipping out on some real winners who were harrassing him first. I also heard them shouting racial slurs at him as well.
Look, I'm not saying what he did and said was right. But geez, if you actually spent money to go see Kramer do his famous catchphrases and do the popping noise with his mouth while he does the headjerk and freaks out, and you want him to lay some heavy George Carlin shit on you, then you are a fucking moron. And you should leave without a refund, chalking this one up to an experience learned from. Simple as that. It's like going to see Carrot Top, though I don't know why you would, and bitching that he uses too many props and is extremely annoying.
So hate Kramer/ Michael Richards all you want. He is an oddball, but I loved him in UHF as Stanley Spadowski with his trusty mop. Or anything I've ever seen him in. He's actually the only thing I've ever found funny about Seinfeld.
"The Junior Mints episode!"
That's a good one. I saw his Letterman apology and he looks like a pretty whack dood, yo. By the way...
THIS ONE GOES OUT TO THE MEDIA:
If he is so washed up and has beened, why is he such big news then, you sick fucks? Shouldn't you be moved on to the next Pamela Anderson divorce? I enjoyed seeing him flake out onstage. Will he be as unforgiven as Mel?
"The tequila scarfing Joo hater?"
The voices are crowding in tonight, signing that it is time for blissful slumber. I will have to be up in four hours...
Thursday, November 23, 2006
My favorite day, of course, because that can mean only one thing.
"And one thing only!!!"
THE CHIEFS BEAT THE BRONCOS!!!
Look at the stats in the above picture and you will see. Larry Johnson put his Johnson all up in Denver tonight.
And at home too! That's what made it sting a little more for Broncos fans. They will be grumbling about it for the next few days, I'm sure. You know, how the refs were one sided. Not actually true in this one, they (the refs) took away an interception by Pat Surtain that might've closed the door earlier. Instead they kept giving them a chance to get back in it. Then the coach and Jake the Snake got into it on the sidelines again, and Jake wasn't quite the same after. I heard them say he'd been warned he was going to lose his spot as top dog if he didn't put out this time. I'm glad they put him in such a good position to fail like that, and that the Chiefs are not as dimwitted as to curse a guy's luck and jinx him like that.
So that was a sweet Thanksgiving finale! I went to my parents and hung out with my sisters and smoked up behind Dad's woodpile. I thought he caught me once, but if he did, he said nothing. I then gorged out on turkey, taters, dressing, and all the trimmings that came with. But no dessert. I never did like sweets. Then long ride back with WHAM! as a soundtrack whilst I yell profanities at old or handicapped people slowing up my peacefully serene trip home.
So here I am then, basking in K.C.'s glory, and turn of luck, they are now tied for second in the division with a fast fading Denver, and only San Diego in their sights. A few more wins should clinch at least a wild card maybe. But I always root for them to finish strong and take it all. Please be that year!
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Larry Johnson once again never ceases to amaze me. 154 yards and two touchdowns, one of them being the go ahead, game winning, smack em in the mouth and ram it down their throat... uh... winning touchdown? They topped it off with a scary interception in the end zone to end it all. I wish they wouldn't do that though, my dinner plans were hanging in the balance. If they'd have blown it, I'd be eating in. Now I'm gonna go get my ribs on. Stuff a whole bunch of salad on top of that, and I'm a happy guy...
"Until Thursday, at least..."
Hey, but this gave them the juice to continue on with only four days until they meet the Broncos.
We will have our vengeance. Oh yes, we will...
I'm stoked right now, nothing could ruin it.
^^^^^^^^^After Dinner Edit^^^^^^^^^
Or could it? Against my pleadings to go to Olive Garden, we headed to Golden Corral. I hate buffets. Not because of the food necessarily, but from the inbred, mannerless ilk that contaminate the vittles with cruddy abandon. I started off with a heaping plate of salad, with all the healthy trimmings to boot. I then proceeded to jam as much steak into my gullet as I could. It was super raw, but I was in the mood for it, and Heinz 57 sauce will kill anything still crawling around on it. That's what I tell myself at least.
"We'll see in a couple of hours..."
I eat pretty healthy still, but need a little extra meat as I seem to be having trouble bulking up as fast as I'd like. I'm just trying to keep as lowfat as I can. I'm really starting to get those sweet stomach muscles that go all the way down, but that's alot of stomach crunches and I dropped the pin down to the next slot on the machine at the gym. After I get my hair cut short, finish up this roll of film, and develop it, I will post some before and after pics. I'm probably still going to be hideous to behold, but having a form to be proud of after too long in the chow line is great as an ego boost. When I was 235 pounds, people called me sir and payed me no never mind. I was the fat guy. Now I am the slim and trim guy. I want to be the hulking behemoth, so I'm going to try taking creatine along with my protein shakes. I feel like I've hit a wall as far as muscle growth is concerned and I really want to see some results that will make me want to push harder. I'm not there at the gym to ogle the ladies, I want results. I feel good when I work out, it is my meditation. When I stop taking care of myself, I feel like crap, you really start getting addicted to feeling great. Sexual urges get much stronger, and you are able to put your money where your mouth is. Walk the walk. Who wouldn't want that?
I don't have a big head, by the way, but I like to pump myself up and stay on top of it all. I really am truly ugleh, it just can't be helped. Strangely, that picture I posted not long back looks nothing like me, the remnants of loose flesh make me look like I have more chins than a Chinese phonebook. My hair isn't even that color. And soon it will be short and spiky, ala Simon LeBon during the Arcadia days.
I love gel...
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Blogger I hate you for erasing my original post.
Now that... uhh that is out of the way...
I went to see Harsh Times, an awesomely riveting movie with Christian Bale, a couple Latin hotties, and Terry Crew.
"The black, bodybuilding Charlie Brown?"
Yeah, that's the guy. And the bud is toked all the way through practically to the end. What chaos ensues when a mind torn by the war on terror puts more on his plate than he can handle. Kharma makes an appearance early on. What, you didn't expect it to have a happy ending did you? The things that do come back to bite you in the ass in the end. I give this undoubtedly overlooked masterpiece a solid A. Most of the tools in line were seeing Borat or...
A new blond Bond!
Blessed peace to watch a great movie. Eva Longoria is totally tits, but that Tammy Trull is even better as his "treacherous" south of the border sweety.
Which brings me to Christian Bale. That guy is popping out movies like there is no tomorrow, as fast becoming a fave for the new millenium. No one does brooding, psychotically articulate madman such as he. Somebody get this guy an award!
I just didn't get the whole tormented by the war, having flashbacks, cold sweats and the like. I don't fancy killing anyone, but if I had to be there, I'm damn sure gonna spray wayward bullets at anyone trying to cut my time short on this godforsaken shithole. War sucks, but I could take as many enemies out as I could, if my pants aren't choked with poo, and sleep like a baby when I get back to safer shores. This includes anyone pointing weapons at me: women, children, old men. If I make it back, I win. Not that I wanna go.
"I'm just sayin'..."
This is why you bomb the enemy until there is nothing left and sift through the rubble. War is hell...
(Especially in the mind.)
Thursday, November 16, 2006
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^SO RED THE ROSE^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Can anyone spot the irony here?
(The post title and the accompanying picture...)
The answer will be on the next post at the end, so stay tuned kiddies for that extrava-bonanza-ganza!
In other news, I am sitting here getting a little glassy eyed, and looking through what is coming out tomorrow in the theaters via the web. Very depressing, the best out of the lot was some retarded prison comedy. I'm sure it's chocked full of scenes of black guys trading smokes for white boys' cornholes. Not interested in that shit personally, but that does raise another query with which I will set up the background info on first. Our town and neighboring Fayetteville have adopted the ban on smoking in any public establishment. I even have to go outside to smoke at Zabana's Latin Club. What a crock of shit, I am eyed by non smoking rule enforcers wherever I am, even in a designated place, as if I were the criminal!
Thus the segway...
In jail, not only do they smoke inside (at least in the movies!!!), they use it like currency and/or to indebt some poor slob into sexual servitude. Those fuckers get to puff away indiscriminately and without hassle, whilst I lurk in the shadows taking a drag menacingly, whilst scheming my dastardly plans of all your deaths by second hand smoke, and whilst some environment loving fake hippie douche lectures me on my thoughtlessness due, I'm sure, to the fact that I've been brainwashed by the evil Republicans running our government.
"How's that for a senseless rant?"
Woopty doo, what does it all mean, Basil? It means I'm gonna go see Harsh Times tomorrow instead of the lukewarm prison poo-fest. These days it seems you can't go wrong with Christian Bale, he's a hot actor on the up and coming, if'n you catch my drift. The Prestige, The Machinist, Batman, uhhh, and a few other ones that escape a tired, overworked, and underfed mind such as mine.
By the way, I've been sick most of the week. I'm getting better but seem to be sprouting a pimple inside my nose that hurts like the dickens.
Boy howdy does life try to kick you in the balls when you are already down, doesn't it? I haven't had a nose pimple in years, yet it rears its ugly whitehead just in time for festive holiday snapshots.
I will be the one, once again lurking...
Behind the turkey leg!!!
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
I saw a video of him puffin' the cheeba on youtube in an interview. The reporter covering the story was acting horrified at the thought of someone, God forbid, smoking on the drugs. Pot isn't even a drug, as far as I'm concerned. It's grown naturally, not twisted and perverted in makeshift labs on the sly. Just in fields, backyards, and closets...
On the sly!!!"
Everything he said in his defense of the wunderplant was true. It just might have looked better if he hadn't been giggling the whole time....
Anybody like Wham?
Somebody had to have liked them, they sold a shitload of albums.
Come out of the closet, you flaming Wham freaks!!!
Monday, November 13, 2006
Yes, friends and neighbors, it's that time again. The last time we met up, Superhottie was saying goodbye to some old grudges. I thought we'd seen the last of our daring heroine in all her chest heaving distressed-ness.
Under cover of disguise, she makes her triumphant return to battle the forces of evil, also disguised, but as a white trash tow truck driver. Go figure.
What is next on her to do list then? Yet another Scooby Doo sequel? Find a nice to charity to grace her face with as the spokeswoman? It's all up in the air at this point, we'll just have to tune in tomorrow kids.
And buckle up...
"It's gonna be a bumpy ride!!!"
The Return: F-
It was that bad. Don't see this unless you are 10-12 year old girl with the IQ of a half melted slushie. I didn't expect it to be any good but sheesh, someone should declare SHENANIGANS on the guy who put that trailer together.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
It's finally time to come down off my cross. I've martyred myself long enough. It's time to come back...
"Back with a vengeance?"
Chuck Norris style, my friend!
Realizations, realizations. What can you do? Go on, and hope. Dare to dream even?
I know it's never so bad. I just go off the deep end sometimes in my thoughts. I may dig deeper into my resolve, or continue to work out hard and punish the demons in my head until they are gone once again. Change is due in my life though.
"Pain is a great motivator..."
Yeah yeah yeah, misery is optional. I've never bought into that bullshit. I will McGuyver the shit out of this thing called life and once again hold it by the balls.
There can be only ONE!
I said McGuyver, not MacLeod...
(The Highlander, for those of you don't know it...)
Sunday, November 05, 2006
I can't sleep. When I close my eyes, my mind starts to rattle and shake. Worse now than before, screaming...
I can't take this, I want it to all end. Or to just have never been. That would be better.
No remembrance of tears spilled long ago, from wells long gone dry. No fifth grade yearnings, after the fact, on the long journey home. No disappointment. No more pain. Or wishing. Or dreaming.
I hate life, and I have this, I don't know what you'd call it, feeling in my chest. Sinking... plummeting. It's starting to not go away again.
I watched most of Punchdrunk Love a little while ago, but just couldn't take anymore. I love this movie, and when he is running down the hallways looking for a promised kiss, I am catapulted back into my own memories. Yet they are not as blissful as his. Mine are filled with all the things that have gone wrong, horribly, in my quest for whatever the fuck it is I'm having such a hard time finding. What is it? Am I crazy? Will I find it?
Will I want it after I know all the bullshit involved in the process?
This place is hell. I am lost and believe there is no way back for me now. How could there be? That incarnation of me is dead... gone forever. I really liked him too, he was a nice guy. He liked the outdoors. Hiking. Looking at the sky in amazement.
Now the sky only sees my clenched fist.
"Someone release me!" he demands.
Always met with silence...
I know it's true, but I'm sorry to say
Yesterday's a day away.
Nothing I can do to make it stay like that.
Ain't that a fact.
I know it's true, but I'm sorry to say
I just can't handle things this way.
I know it's late, but I'd like to stay a while, see you smile.
Will you meet me in the morning, with the sun fresh on the dew?
Will you meet me in the afternoon, made just for me and you?
Will you meet me in the evening, when the nighttime starts to crawl?
Will you meet me in the hall?
Will you meet me on the wall?
Will you meet me at all?
One more time, one more time.
Shaking up and down my spine.
Jump a rope or skip a line or two.
What can I do?
One more time, one more time.
Color flashing neon signs.
Advertising a friend of my distraction, latest attraction.
Oh my body has been punished.
Lord, I think I've had enough.
Oh my body has been punished
With too much and not enough.
Oh my body has been punished
And my mind can no longer bluff.
My mind is so unkind, my mind is so unkind.
It keeps me crying all the time.
I know it's true, but I'm sorry to say
Yesterdays a day away.
What I wouldn't give to hear this song right now.
My mind can no longer bluff...
Do ya feel me Clyde, do ya... feel me?
Friday, November 03, 2006
How to effectively tighten the Bible belt over Satan's bulge?
"Can it be done?!?"
You know, the ones who keep that all sexual frustration pent up in their jeans are the ones that flip out in the end. Look at the BTK killer, deep into the church when he decided to resurface. Masturbated over the dead bodies of children he murdered.
Great guy, to his fellow congregation...
Jim Jones, anyone?
So here's this guy trying to save our souls, apparently even been doing it for awhile. Here's where the problem lies:
NO ONE BELIEVES HIM.
He declines to drop the facade of anonymity, causing many to question his motives. The press have also dropped his cause. I personally do not care, he's not gonna stop titties from flowing freely like wine.
I have, however, had the pleasure of reading several blogsites devoted to hating his lilly livered, Tom Petty album filching(almost!) guts.
Two places I've found that put this ass clown into the proper perspective and shed light on the intricacies of his most high foolishness. I know I came into this late, but I'm always curious to see how things play themselves out. Will he be outed as a rival owner, out for revenge? Will he be found hanging by the neck in his closet due to the shame and humiliation of having to KNOW there's titties being shook around somewhere, in town, for money?
"Oh... my... gawd! What if he's right?"
It's an interesting read for me anyway, been going on awhile. Club still open, the masses are free to see floppies afloppin' and camel toes apoppin'!
Horny, good natured guys will get to continue to slap complete strangers on the back and buy them a beer while hooting recklessly to the gods.
"I pressed her thigh... and death smiled."