Lichy Woman...

 Wonders to behold, she'd said. Tales to be told, he'd read.
Coffers to be fed, my dear. Fortunes left for dead, I fear.
Melancholy wisps of gloom. They fail to quell our rising doom.
The risen flame was all for naught.
It sears the flesh, which hastens rot.

Pop Goes the Cheezil...

First, let me take a toke of some sticky icky before I lay it all out for you to peruse through.
Some leafage before you leaf...
Also, some music. Back in a few.
Aight.
I cut off all my hair a few days ago. I was tired of looking like an escapee from the insane asylum. It's bad enough I feel like that on the inside...
So I have no hair. Also, I haven't been drunk in a month. Yay for me. I am, however, getting sweetly baked to perfection at the mo-mo.
And then we move on from Queen's Who Needs You to Tommy Shaw's Lonely School...
I wonder if anyone who'd read this blog from start to finish could possibly ever make heads or tails of this at all.
Maybe that's all the Egyptian hieroglyphics were in the end, emotionally charged old skool blogging. Nothing of meaning to anyone beyond those who chiseled it into the stone, or painted it.
It seems I'm trying to go all deep on y'alls. Fail in all aspects.
I guess I'm just beating around the bush when I should just get down to it.
I can't see your face in my mind. Not anymore. And when your name does cross my lips, it no longer creates a pang in mein heart. I am in a netherworld of  ooey gooey dark chocolate FUNK. 
I'm covered in it, as if I'd literally murdered a man sized bar of it.
And my sanity, my serenity, my salvation, my...
Very abilty to make a final desperate stab at a future is as white as snow. Hell, it might as well be on fire or covered with scorpions. In the end it all matters little.
Why not, then, hack through haphazardly amongst the thickets and thistles?
I'm thinking I'm ready to use this emotional steam to power my thrust for lust of not being covered in rust.
Or dust...
If I must.
I no longer wonder what would be had I veered off  the beaten path.
Where does all that turmoil go? Does it dissipate out of your pores and orifices? Or does it continue to well up, ready to 'splode all over da place?
I wish I could just upload my thoughts, instead of this jumble of whatever spewing out onto keyboard, like the verbal meanderings of a... of a... uhhh...
Me.
Maybe I should write a book.
Preferably a pop up.

Hamma-Lamma-Ding-Dong...

So...
Here we are again. Ups and downs once again. On my way to a meeting and my garage door comes off the track, no one until tomorrow to come and fix it. Assholes.
Them, not you guys.
So my evaluation at work is done, passed with flying colors. One of the floor guys is retiring soon, and the other is not far behind so I'm hopefully going to get that promotion.
Please, GAWD!!!
Trading physical stress for mental, but I can handle. Need money.
Anyhoo...
Adam Sandler's new movie, That's My Boy, is coming out Friday. Can't wait for it, hoping the greenage will be plentiful by then. Must self medicate...
See Jack and Jill if you haven't, it's the schnizz, yo.
The only time I haven't wanted to impale Al Pachino.
And that's saying alot. Also, SHAQ is in it.
Blah blah blah.

Incisions, Decisions...

Sorry, too lazy to recut that picture without the ad.
Anyhoo, got my evaluation finished today. It only took two days to get it done, and only about six months of worrying over it. I am now free to get my union steward duties flowing like jizz over my beloved worshipers.
So right now I'm just sitting here getting super high, listening to an Ari Shaffir podcast, and posting up in hurr.
I think I'm almost well again, finally, and ready...
For what?
Exactly. My back hurts all the time, and after seeing 50/50, I always figure that'd be my luck. Back cancer.
I'm not sure just how I'd take it. Sometimes I think death would be better for me. Sometimes I think death for others would be even better. Sometimes I just don't want to think, or feel.
I fully understand the hows and whys of the mourning process in regards to our youthful vigor. We do not want to give up the goat. It is as simple as that.
I personally like myself, probably too much. The problem, then, must lie somewhere within the rest of you.
I go to AA meetings where people talk about how much of a piece of shit they were when they drank and such. And you know what?
Other than sadfully being neglectful and distant at times with the ones who have loved me and/or continue to do so, I've kept it all pretty squeaky clean on the outside world.
Although my vengeance is a thing of wonder to behold, I do not wreak havoc upon others unless properly provoked. I can, and will, look people in the eyes. I just prefer not to when I don't have to.
Also, sadly now my older stepdaughter is here and she has a dog that will soon meet with a nasty case of the  "got thrown out of a moving vehicle at high speeds" syndrome. She will be living with us for a short time. I will end my comments about that for now.
I guess I will go, but at least I'm posting alot more again. Unfortunately I've probably run off everyone who bothered to post comments. I also probably think it'd been better if I'd not shared it with them in the first place. Ha, no one probably even hangs out on blogger anymore anyway anyhow.
That's alot of probablys to deal with.
More than I'm prepared for anyways.
By the way, I still hate you, Facebook. And people who wear patchouli, and just about the rest of the known world.
I'm lying. I don't really hate more than a handful of you. The problem is, I could live without ever seeing any of you again. If there were computers that could fool me into believing they were real human beings to interact with, then who needs real human contact?
I'd miss the poon. I've been missing it awhile already...
Ha!

Lip Dip Sip...

(Another draft from way the fuck back.)

Reality. I've grown to realise...

The drool upon my bottom lip...

Is a realization...

Of my bottom lip.

And Then the Shrooms Kicked In...

 What's the matter, clown?
Turn that frown upside down, clown.
I guess he finally realized that fun for some is work for others.
And such is life.
Do you wipe off the make up and get a real jerb?
Or do you trick the boys into putting on the handcuffs...?
And then the garrote.    

Went to eat Chizznizz with my niece and nephew and parents on Saturday but it was lame-o. Yesterday was my child's 16th birthday.

Oh, what fun we didst haveth...

Erm...

Today I showed off my skillz at work, as far as union steward goes. And yes, I do spell skillz with a Z.

Then we had rail dust problems on the chickens and we shut down for over two hours. 

That would be great if it didn't mean we'd be going home over two hours later for our troubles. 

I'm bushed and my feet hurt. 

I'm smushed into the dirt.

I'm battered and torn.

I need to be reborn.

I'm dying.

To live.

Not palms up.

But to give.

A damn about it all.

And learn how to crawl.

And stand again proud.

And brush off the shroud.

Of impending doom.

And unending gloom.

And brighten the room.

Suck it.

Don't they taste like feet?

A Fine Whine...?

Someone's been at laptop again...
Just got home from American Reunion. A reunion of suck. F. Without Stifler and the piefucker, who bumbles into one Three's Company moment after another, this'd be a complete bust.
I'm on a four day weekend, my kid's 16th birthday being the crowning pinnacle of creamy funtime goodness.
Then it's back to Unhappyland once again, where I toil and toil. And toil...
I came here with a plan of attack. Then I felt I needed Youtube accompaniment. Yet nothing seemed to do the trick. I started with old Johnny Carson, drifted through some stand up, and winded up here in the land of comedian versus heckler. Everyone seems to think they can not only successfully perform stand up, but can own someone up proper and right. Most must live in fantasy because they just end up looking like tools. The select few who can serve it up can do so because it's like a muscle: if you keep it pumped up and limber, then it is ready and cocked to deliver the killing blow. If it's underused and flabby, then it's like holding a giant wheel of cheddar up against a machete wielding meth freak in full hallucinogenic gleeness.
I keep in shape at work. I don't give them the full R rated version, but I keep it close enough not to tiptoe into ending up in the office explaining your/myself. However that goes...
So I've not yet found something to listen to in the background. And I've already given here what little I've got left in the tank.
I'm rerererereading It. I always realize I should've left Stephen King in my childhood. He's cheese now. In the end he always was. I prefer classics anyhow. I love how your tastes change, and mature, once you've given the contents time to settle.
Like wine...
A fine one.

The Screams of a Million Tadpoles...

Ummmmmmm, randomly found picture on my son's laptop...
Sweeeeeeeeeet.
So anyway: not much of a weekend. New idiocies abound and are laid bare, against better judgement.
Now just what to do. I daily find reinforcement in the argument advocating the hermit lifestyle.
I definitely think it will be resolved in the near future.
I also realize now that immediately replacing the innards of a poorly performing machine with the guts of another yield the same results.
So why do it?
We just do, or tend to.
I guess it is all about how many times you want to put your testicles to the flames, hoping to singe off the cobwebs of sad neglect and pubes of self doubt.
Can't you hear their screams?
No, Daddy, no!!!

All Time Tithead...

I'm on an all time low, and seems the dirty work is all up to moi.
Today I hate you, and I hate me.
Do I turn?
Do I share?
Do I?
Always to be continued, until I reach an automatic save point I can't avoid...

Wunderkitteh...

I was just reading my blog back to 2010. Ha, what a maroon. It was definitely interesting to see where I've been and where I'm headed. I truly believe there is a mourning period for events in the past. Time dulls the senses to it, or m...

Ha, I found this lurking in draft form. Wonder where I was headed on this one, and why it didn't come to fruition. I love the picture, however. Mainly because it's obvious the kitty will be torn to shreds by the undead, only to return a mindless feline monstrosity...

Egg Zachary...

So anyway, this midget beaner opens the door and tries to semi eyeball me, saying WHAT a tad bit above proper room level.
I told him to move his car so I could leave. He did as he was told.
Good for him. I was in the mood to do a little midget tossin'...

Had a better telling of this story planned yesterday, but ehhhhhhhh, what're you going to do?
Just not feeling it today.
Hopefully the next two days at work are work free. I just want to flail.

I wanted to work out today, but we got off late. I hate that. Nothing saps your willpower like that shit right thurr.
So anyway, I didn't want to leave last night's post hanging. I will leave you now and get back to watching the Ronald Reagan roast of '73.
I'd like to be a fly on the wall in the company of those guys. Cool and classy.
Now people are just dicks.

I'd much rather have a Ronnie hologram than a fucking Tupac.
Ronnies totally kick ass.

Flippin' Out...

I'm hanging out, listening to the Flip Schultz podcast, and taking a few hits.
Saw Lockdown last night, with Guy Pierce. I normally dig the heck out of him.
This was not one of those times. He was trying wayyyyyyyyy too hard to be the most smart assed guy ever created. It just didn't work. Movie was decent, but nothing to write home about.
C+.
And wow at The Avengers. It was good, but not jizz worthy. Sorry, nerds.
Also, out of blood pressure medicine. Hope I can deal with tomorrow without blowing a gasket. They better get on my refills ASAP. I get overheated easily, physically and mentally.
I almost conquered some fool just less than an hour ago. I went to a friend's apartment, he shall forever forward be known as Black Ronald. 
And I went through the tapdance routine, got my schnizzle on, and walked back out to my car, to go home and partaketh in solitude, as nature intended.
Some fucking douchenozzle had me blocked in. I ask Black Ronald who would have the audacity to do such a thing.
So here I am on his neighbor's doorstep. I knock politely. I do this again. And again. And a few more times, not hearing anything on the other side. Their window was open, so it confirmed the fact that no one seemed to give a flying flipdoodle. So I start playing a nice tune on their doorbell, followed by a barrage of hearty knocks.
Because I've got shit to do...
To be continued. Kid came in. Gotta bail.

A Strange Bird...

Aight. I saw The Avengers this weekend. It was good, the only problem was...
I wanted a jizzfest of kickassedness. I also wanted a Hulk reboot with dood so we can keep some sort of continuity up in this piece. If I do a marathon of all the movies, which Hulk movies do I watch? The second? Both? It would be hard for me to do when the two Iron Man movies were kind of snoozefests.
I know, I know...
Not a fan of Downey Jr.
Anyhoo, all feeling kind of weird and down. Made myself go out. Did alot of outside walking, nothing interesting.
Boo frickin' hoo.
I feel fine, though. It's all good.

I Know I'll Never Love This Way Again...

But I'll keep holding on, til all the good is gone...

I know, right?

Twas walking in the rain earlier, pondering. I remember seeing 500 Days of Summer. The realization of just how very much I was like this was brutal. We live fantasy for awhile, then it crumbles back inwards upon us. And traps our legs...

And hardens our hearts to further intrusion.

And we embrace darkness once again. For awhile...

Eventually, the dull throb is drowned out by the symphony of otherworldly clamor.

Do we send out a telepathic distress signal?

Do we linger at the very door of that which has knocked us flat time and time again?

I think not as I believe a lesson has been learned. As deep as it is, the wound has been licked clean, and quite thoroughly.

I will now find my only solace: in the arms of Christopher Walken and James Lipton.

Take that revelation as you will...

Nyet, Nyet, Nyet...

Hey guys...

Sitting on the deck in the backyard, smoking a grit. I've got all week off for spring break.
Going to take my parents to eat tomorrow, but the rest of the week will be spent cleaning and such. Maybe catch a few movies...

Saw 21 Jump Street Friday, it was pretty dang sweeet. Loved Depp getting one in the neck and dying. Woops, did I spoil something?

Tonight is the last episode of The Walking Dead. I already know what happens, so it wasn't spoiled for me by the masses online. Besides, I read all about what the comics have already done, and it's all good.

Then another 7 months to wait for more. Sadness.

Despair, lol.

Plus Missouri lost in the first round to a crap team.

Dammit.

Curses!!!

Hey world, legalize Mary Jane and we'll call it even.

Hart to Hart...

The new millenium female Robert Smith vs. old skool Fred Sanford/new wave Buck Rodgers...

Can't smile just yet, can't just...

The Arch of an Eyebrow...

From the beginning of time the first story of betrayal involves a man...

And his old lady.

He does the things he thinks are right. They turn out to not be right, in fact they are wrong in every sense of the word. This is usually because some evil succubus is whispering some of the most fucked up shit in his ear. Is that even an actual sentence?

From Adam and Eve to Bonnie and Clyde...

It all ends in a gory puddle of apple cores, ribs, and bullet ridden dollar bills.

And bankruptcy, self doubt, self discovery, self doubt, self discovery...

Until the day that The Walking Dead or Night of the Living Dead becomes a living reality, then we have to continue to suck that dick, twist that nozzle...

So my wife's friend used his GAY-DAR on me and failed.

Background: he looked just like MANGO.

Should I readjust my shit or continue to roll with the punches?

I actually have perfect GAY-DAR and wouldn't peg myself as he did.

Wishful thinking?

A simple arch of an eyebrow...?

Sometime soon I will post as was done did beforehand in the beforehandville...

Until then?

Stizz tizznooneezeedizzle on the shizznizzlebeeoznatch.

This time I fucking mean it.

It Rears Its Ugly Head again...

The dreaded no picture post...

Wow, a month gone by. Not much doing here, been only checking a choice few sites or forums.

And, no, Facebook is not one of them. They have pretty much killed the internet and dulled the senses of its inhabitants.

I just digressed away from the computer to have a conversation about chicken fried steak sandwiches and the fact that white gravy on them is impractical and doesn't go with the cheddar slabs I'm going to melt on their very tiptops and squash down with mayo, freshly sliced tomato, and crisp lettuce...

Not to mention the fact that I didn't buy any to slather on.

Woops?

Maybe not. It did cross my mind, but it would be another thangie to have to babysit whilst it heated.

Saw a few movies on dvd.

Shark Night, again. Saw it at the movies, loved it.

Straw Dogs. No not a new one by the old farts on the motorcycles.

Good one, but sometimes silly.

And resaw 50/50. I need to buy it.

Been working, but not much to talk about there. Boring crap as usual with dickholes abounding.

Wanna buy a new computer, and grow my own smoke.

That would be cool. I'd be happy if they legalized it.

I know I'd get as prescription easy.

Blah blah blah.

Happy New Year...

I can see it. I can totally see it:

A new life that doesn't involve bullshit. I just need to not be afraid of it. I wikll do this now. I will do this now. It's not like I want to find someone new, that may, or may not, come later. I do not care anymore. I've had brushes with greatness: Lori, I'd have been lucky as shit to almost have you. As it is, I will have nothing. I guess that is fine, the way behind me is strewn with the corpses of all that i've lost and left behind.

The way ahead is hopefully not like that. I'm already emotionally not available, this just makes it worse, or better.

I want to be free to make my own mistakes, not clean up after someone else's.

Below is someone else who has crossed paths with the dreaded beast.

This would be totally worth it, if it ends the tale that was never meant to be told.

I wanted to be left alone, and now I want to be left alone.
Leave me alone. You only lie to me. You only lie. Everyone only lies to me.

Handcuffs.

"And lies..."

Once I have attained beauty again, I will not be stoppable. OK, maybe sometimes to myself, but that is it. Other than what I think, the rest of you can just go straight away and fuck off.

Grow a beard and shut it all off. I will win.

Oh, yes...

"He surely will."

Today, the other guy wins. He punches, or gets out. He's tired of punching, he's ready to get out...

The Sitter...

Did I mention my love for David Gordon Green? We saw The Sitter yesterday, and it was the bomb, yo.

Good thing I don't give a crap what the critics say, or I'd have missed this sweet gem.

A+ all the way.

Always love Jonah Hill, who did a bang up jerb, but the kids stole the show everytime they got a chance. Especially Rodrigo, pictured heeyah...

A nice young pyromaniac hailing from El Salvador, he's adopted into a well to do family with their own brand of problemos. When not blowing things up, he's prone to urinating on anything and anyone he so chooses to.

Also, Sam Rockwell as Carlos, the drug dealer chasing them throughout the film, is superb. Hell, everyone up in the heezy does a fine jerb bringing what they bring to the table.

Can't believe this movie isn't faring better, but apparently most of the moviegoers would rather see crappy kids' crap crapping up the screen.

Such is life. I will most definitely buy this on dvd, probably on the cheap.

Hoping for a Pineapple Express 2 someday.

David Gordon Green is a GAWD among amateurs.

When will the rest of you realise this?!?!?

Here's Graveh...

Hola...

Long time, no see.

Been slumming it up, with no net.

I plan on sharing. I plan on vomiting out alot of what be going on.

Get ready for it, put a bib on, this is gonna make Gallagher look like...

Uhhhh...

Gallagher.

Fuck watermelons, the sledgehammer is gonna fall once again.

My seed will spill...

"Splooge."

Splooge, indeed.

That's alot of labia...

No matter what I do wrong...

I'm happy my kid is the coolest kid on the planet. I'm wayyyy happy she has a much harder skin than I had. I cried like a bitch all the time.

"Want some ice cream, Ronnie?!?!?"

Punch you in the eye first.

The Texas judge can kiss my ass, his daughter, too.

My kid is the most in tune person to my dreams, even if they don't coincide...

She wants me to be the best, she wants me to...

"Be there?"

Love her?!?!?

That I will always do. She has no idea how many nights I stroke her hair, no matter how much my hnads/wrists always hurt.

I'm only 39 but I feel like Uncle Clyde. I capitalize out of respect.

Diamond in the Rough...

Sometimes I have moments of clarity. True, they are far and few betwixt eons of delusional delusionness...

I want. I really want.

"What does he want?"

No shit, WTF doth he want?

Shall I make a fucking list?

1. To be left the fuck alone. If you do not share blood relations with me, then you are easily replaced. Ok, not easily at times, but you CAN be replaced.

2. Don't try to control me. Sure, I do some stupid things, but I'm pretty tough. I can roll with the punches better than most.

3. I want the letter M stricken from the English language.

4. Ice cream Wednesdays. Why should Hump Day bring a guy like ME down?

5. The road belongs to me. If you happen to be on it at the same time as me, pull over and get the fuck out of my way. This is a strange request as I'm actually a slow driver, but amazingly there are people that are more slower than me.

6. While I'm still semi lucid: More hugs, especially if you're not butt ugly and have huge tig ol' bitties. Nevermind the last part, just hug me.

7. Serial killers: I want to know if they are to blame, or is it society, or is it their upbringing, or are they just bad seeds needing to be bypassed?

8. The radical muslim world and the rest of the world's muslims that are strangely quiet about it all: notice I will NEVER capitalize that word. Sure, white dumbasses kill people, but not with the same flourish as radical muslims. Children? Children? Why? Why ever? Even barbarians were smart enough to replete thier fodder by repletiary repletionness, lol.

9. New words made up, of course by me, should be considered immediate. Fuck ebonics, call this shit RONBONICS.

10. Russell. Almost, buddy, almost. I should've been your wingman; not just to prevent your death, but to influence some of your decisions to not end up as much of a tool as you did. This is between him and I. The rest of you can just fuck off. Keith, who is forever my brother and best friend, needed us. As far as I see it, when you shake a man's hand it is a done deal. I'd never do it back, even in revenge. I'll slit your motherfucking throat, though...

11. A zombie apocalypse. Democrats made the working man wish for this. Sad, indeed...

More to come later when I shuffle some shit around. Lori, if you're still around, please don't stick around for further decomposition. You are the thing I wish. I wish I deserved the right to woo. To woo..............................

Whatever, Now Suck It Up...

So I blew off the Subway deal. I'm just too stressed to mess with it. I do still wish death upon that horrible cow who pissed/ripped me off. In the end, what is the point anyway?!?!?

"Things happening."

On the cusp?

Always hoping. Somewhere, sometime, someday I have to do more than plot and scheme your impending dooms. I'm tired of being bi polar.

I want to love all of you instead of wanting to rip your throats out with my bare teeth.

And please hurry up and pass the whole medicinal marijuana crap so I can enjoy life in peace.

I feel like when I don't have some sort of head change then I'm loathing every minute of everyone else's miserable existence.

"Phooey on all of ye!!!"

BLEEEAAARRRRRGGGHHHHH!!!

Kidding. I'm not that full of hate. Sometimes, not always.

Do you not think I want to skip through flowers and sleep lazily in the grass while the sun bathes me in its warmth?

OK, not anything that lame, but I'd be happy with some sort of ooomphf, some sort of gusto.

By the way, movies seen lately: Our Idiot Brother, disappointing girly crap - C-.

Bucky Larson, had funny parts but lame as well - C+.

Final Destination 5, not bad and ended up a prequel nicely. Too bad they got the formula wrong for staying alive. Didn't they see the other films?

Oh yeah, twas a prequel and they didn't have a Delorean...

Solid B.

Transformers 3, not bad but missing Megan Fox, WTF?!?!?

B as well.

Now back to my life...

"Oh joy..."

Zzzzzzzzzzzz, here we go again.

Tried the new Ben & Jerry's Schwetty Balls. Had chocolate covered rum balls in it, so gross. I'd rather be teabagged by Ron Jeremy in July... in the Sahara no less!!!
That's about it for now. I need a new pc, I've been using my kid's laptop and I hate it. I have a pc but it's near dead. I need my command central, I need my magic porn box.

Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

Now look at my post picture and feel the love.

Blacked Out Forest...

So I flipped out on a chick that worked at Subway today...
Let me, uhhhh... set the scenerio.
I had a rough day at work. I had been forced to sit through a two hour thangie where they tought us to deal with stress. Breathing exercises, all that jazz...
Some stuff I'd actually been taught back in the 70's in elementary school, flexing individual muscles one at a time and then releasing, starting with your feet and working all the way up to your brainpan.
Sure, it's all good for short term release.
"BUT..."
Yes, even your butt.
Stuff from 1967, it even had the date at the bottom, lol. Forty four years old, if you can believe that. I'm even starting to get grey hair, how can even I expect to be taken seriously?!?!?
"Don't even think I'm even coming close to coming near the end."
Coming? Butts? Bottoms, even ENDS?!?!?
Yeah, I know. Ignore them, and they will eventually go away I tell myself. They even did, for awhile, if you can be bothered to backcheck my schnizz...
So, after a day of eating shit at work, as usual...
I go to a local Subway, to ease the pain of existence... with a footlong.
I finally decide to deviate from the norm and order the $5 footlong of the month, a turkey breast and black forest ham on wheat. I do so love wheat bread...
"He deviates further and orders bacon on top of it all."
So bold, so... decadent.
I had actually made smalltalk, and succeeded, and had won over the heart of the chick making my delicious sammich...
As she began beginning a new sammich for the next guy, she had planned toasting his as she added the scrumptuous toppings to mine, a Jabba the Hutt type girly girl waddled out in search of I-dunno-what-the-fuck began pulling on her sammich making gloves ever so slowwwwwwly...
I told her what I wanted: Everything, no pickles, no olives.
"Ew!!!"
EW!!!
Yes, I'm violently allergic to pickles, thanks mom for giving me Roladin. That, and painful stomach cramps I never told you about in the middle of the night.
I tell her that, yes, I want all the sauces. Mayo, Ranch, Chipotle, hot mustard, and vinegar and oil. She replies assholishly that I must really like my sauces.
I can feel the chip on her shoulder. She hated me before this cat and sammich game began.
Then I handed her my debit card...
"I will not continue tonight."
I actually blacked out during the whole shi-bangle...
To be fucking continued...

Capital Schmappital...

I hate today's hairdo's...

The Great Dying...

Carried by death...
Coddled, grown... born...
Buried, or not. I care not either way. Whatever you care to do with my body, do what you will. I lived in torment, I will die just the same. Unless...
I overcome, and bash the brains of the zombie zeds...
I could live in this kind of apocalypse if I had no child. I'd sacrifice myself for her. Otherwise...
I'd eat the fuck out of anyone who crossed my path, if hungry enough.
Sure, I've morals enough for the lot of you, but I'd survive, and not even care. I've eaten enough of you in mein own time alone. Metaphorically speaking.
So.......................................
I've lost my house, my mind, my pride. What is left?
To rebuild?
I'd love to, but I've lost faith in everything. Life has no flavor and all that blah blah blah. I'm tired of saying all this. Do I begin anew?
Boy, would I.
Bi Polarism is a bitch. I throw caution to the wind sometimes and just say fuck it. I want to love, yet I can't, but I have and will again... maybe. I feel like there is no flavor. There is no flavor. I want things that are already gone...
My road is paved, even travelled before upon. But it has never been conquered.
I want to conquer, but I tire of the control game. I just want to be left alone.
LEAVE ME ALONE.
Be happy to be with me, even fawn all over me and shower me with kisses. Do not berate me, do not put me back in what I grew up to come out of. I will soon be divorced, which is fine.
I only have to think of how to dig out of this hole that love/youth/idiocy puts you into.
You can be the sweetest/loving/ awesomest dood you can be...
And still take a bite of that shit sammich.
Mmmmmmmmm...
Is this what it feels like?
Are these all my posts in the future going to be? I hope not.
I want all of you to be happy, as I wish upon myself. Show me the way, show me the way. I'm a lost little boah...

No...?

Sifting through the ashes of my crash and burn kamakaze doomsday mission, I find myself numb enough not to mourn...

Not to pine.

Nor be prone to panic, and subsequent flight.

Today is/was supposed to be the day the bank takes back my house. Guess then it's off to filing bankrupt and all that jazz. I do not feel the loss of the house, or of all the crap I've thrown away, more of a cleansing, actually. A resolve...

To keep as little stuff as I can, and what I do have I box up if not needed.

Going to school in Dallas for two weeks in August, after that I'm putting in for promotions and trying to get as secluded as I can workwise. Somewhere I can go out and do my thangie and then go back to whatever I do when I'm alone and unsupervised.

Saw Everything Must Go, A+ movie. Will Ferrill can act when he wants to. Still wanting to see Green Lantern, waiting...

The Walking Dead, waiting...

NFL, waiting...

I need to turn the tide that tides me over. I need to wash that grey right outta my hair...

of course i do doo...

Of course I do. The hailstorm in my brain...

I'm about to move into a 3 bedroom house possibly by myself. I want so much for my kid to come with me. I don't want to see her face as sad as that kid whose dad was crushed by that forklift, it almost crushed me. I didn't even know it at the time.

It would seem lonely if you were the only star in the night.

I've got to believe...

It'll be alright in the end.

Guilt, fucking guilt.

See? I don:t want to touch anyone's life and kill it. I don't want to take away, I want to add to, by a fucking million plus.

Right now I feel like I kill all that I touch.

Gold isn't all it's cracked up to be when you have the Midas touch...

Oh, fuck it.

Car crash?

No.

No.

No. No more.

Don't drag me to those gates of hell.... just this last one time?!?

John Cusack Can Suck A Dick...

Le sigh. Le sigh, le sigh, le sigh.
Le fucking sigh.
The things I wish. Were I to dream to be as prococious...?
Genetics, luck, and flexibility, oh my!!!
What can/could I do to explain my oh no's...
My Oh No's..........................
Now I sit here wondering...
Was Teen Wolf the best movie ever made? Was the sequel even better?
How tough was it to be the heir apparent to Michael J.?
Not very, not very.
Tell me I wasn't just a launching pad?
I'm very mad, mostly at myself. Do you not think I'd be happier with a Time Machine that took me back to the times I could do that which would make you love me more?
Two people, two people...
One made me recoil from the fire, the other made me want to embrace it...
In 2005 and 2006 I made a choice to redo my life, then I ate a giant bag of shit.
I am never going to quit this blog, I will post no matter how much it sucks for me to say it all.
Nearly 40, I'm starting to realise how much I suck it all, revelations were made today.
How can I say it?
I just can't...
I need to forget how to remember it all. I need to go back to early 2006. The thing that sucks is that it's not so much about refinding her/you. It is about refinding me without the idiocy of losing me...
You want to find an idiot version of me, I refuse to let that happen, even to my detriment.
I refuse.
Yet I refuse with open arms...
Pictures of you?
I have mental albums...

The Rind That Binds...

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww...
Awwwwww, awwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
Get a schmashmortion at a schmashmortion clinic.
Life is like taking care of a terminally ill patient where/when you are in control of pulling the trigger like a stricken tooth...
A where, and a when ...
When and where you finally commit the crime. I don't like my silhouette, he doesn't seem to favor me.
Snapshot of your voice, a visual wall of soundless trimmed pubelessness. As gentle as a giraffe...
And as physically unsophisticated...
I refuse to be anyone's stepping stone to stepping back.
I think sex when you think a mere two thousand years ahead/or behind.
Think outside the box?
I say think about what got us out of it.
Something wants us to break out of the bubble.
Break out of the bubble, and breathe freely...
It is harder the second time around.
The rind...
I will define when and where. Whether it matters matters... little?
Bowie, it keeps coming back, it just keeps coming back.
Le sigh, and ashes to ashes...

Poke Me Mon...

See if I twitch...

Plans in motion, making things easier. My problem has always been in not following the steps in order. I want to jump ahead to the good ones, then end up tumbling back to number one. Usually into a huge, steaming pile of number two.

No longer drinking, that was a good start. Feel better, actually really started hitting the gym for a week. Then my blood pressure went up, for many reasons. I am going to let my house slide away, and then file whatever you file to make it all go away being one of them.

I have no problem paying for things in cash for awhile, I did before when I came here. Not having the burden of this house will make previously difficult decisions much more doable now.

I am, for a short time, taking blood pressure medicine, which I hate because it makes me sleepy. I also am taking, also for an extremely short time, anti depressants and Klonopin.

I hate this, and will be substituting hard workouts and healthy living/eating as soon as I'm able.

The other night I went all through wikipedia searching bi polar disorder and mania, and hypomania. I'm not sure how much I believe all of that. But...

I can see hypomania. I lived on little or no sleep, was actually quite artistic and creative, obsessed on what I obsessed on. Then somewhere came a huge fall. Then again, I doubt I'm bi polar. I believe that any deviancy of thought can somehow be reprogrammed, it is just extremely hard as fuck.

Also, to answer a question posed of me elsewhere(as if they'd care to even read it): I am the only fool here. If I had a time machine, I could fix anything.

I want to be wantable, and to be deserving of it.

Here I am King of Nothing, when I thought I was but a Prince...

I'm more royalty than I thought. Too bad blue blood seems to be weaker of constitution and thin as fuck.

Time for an infusion, a transfusion.

No more confusion, and tepid delusion.

A collusion of exclusion,

Of all ignorance and illusion...

Every time I Pikachu, I Squirtle.

Is That a Fool's Tail...?

So I bought the new Duran album the day it came out. "She thinks I've just forgotten?" NEVER. Imagine the best tasting, refreshing drink you could hope to ever quaff down, yet never tasted, other than in theory. Then imagine it being pissed in before you could ever take a swallow or a sip. Triviality? "Pretend." Lie, and die. I've not been able to face a fucking Olivia Newton john song, maybe not as long as I live ever again. Worse... Moving on, you said. I eat those bullets, sadly. "In this chamber, lit by scandal..." You're the bullet in the barrel. "You're the last thing as I'm falling..." Bloody roaring, still I'm calling out. I'm calling out. To not be heard, to be left screaming... Wishing for Mediterrania, expecting Antarctica... My two favorite songs off the new album are Mediterranea and The Man Who Stole a Leopard. I could quote this whole album, I just don't have enough space. "You've small children who can easily be molded." Mine gave up on me that day of the Superbowl. You've no idea yet how much pain that causes. I still feel worse than the repercussions. I wanna say many more things. Tell me how I can? Give me a code.

You Know What...?

No Future For Youuuuuu.....?

I can no longer expect or want. I just can't. Sorry to disappoint, but oh wellz...
you think it is all trivial to me?
No, it is definitely not. In the end, I cannot begin when I have not finished.
Things I cannot have. I have a series, or a set of morals, as fucked up as they are...
I can expect you to not respond.
You fell in love with someone you didn't even know...
I am a fool, or am I a tool?
I don't begin, I don't presume to even start to begin.
I bend to one knee. This time it is a little bit easier but hard as ever.
You know what?
My jaw is not of glass, my mind is not splintered. I want.
I want.
I want.
No matter how we thought we grew, we grow now. We grow now. It feels like cancer, even when it kills us. We die, to live. We die...
We die.
Tonight, pessimism reigns. See?
You were cardiac arrest, you were the life ending stroke.
You struck the match, the phoenix arose upon the life giving fire you sparked...
To crash in the ground and come anew from the ash?
It is a matter of perspective...

You And Me In Pink Lights...

So come the evening,
I'm out on the dunes, looking for a token, something to prove...
All I remember is more than a flame...
In my fantasy fire.
In comes the morning,
I'm stood in my track, looking at the reasons, for me to head back...
So unexpected, the kindness you've shown,
That I will not forget it.
Whatever I've done to receive, whatever I need to redeem, whatever you say, even if I wait a lifetime...
I know, I swear, if you leave a light on, if you leave a light on for me,
I'll come there,
You can leave a light on for me.
You breathe the will into the weak,
And coax the cage bird to fly free,
You ease the lost cause out of me,
With your sweet hand to bring me home...
I'm not alone.
I know, I swear...
If you leave a light on, if you leave a light on for me,
I'll come there.
You can leave a light on for me...
I'm not sure how to take this, but this a new, fantastic twist and turn in the life of the...
THE GRAVEH.
Sure, I'm scared of alot of things, and reassurances be damned.
SPLOOSH?!?!?
"He doth."
Doth he?
"Methinks he do."
Lori, let's owe it to ourselves. Let's just let.
Not sleeping dogs lie,
Let them stir,
And go to war.
Proclaim intent...
And win.
And overcome,
The old me...
The old you.
Let us go to war, and WIN.
Win what we deserve. Win what we need. What we deserve... in life.
To live.
In love.
You/Me.
Them/Us.

Mud Pies Are Tasty...

Yesterdays and today,
keeping the wolves at bay,
putting them down,
closing the town...
hoping what comes just may.

Howdy, folks. Chiefs won today, though I personally didn't see it go down. We are back in the driver's seat with Oakland losing to Pittsburg.
The world is a dark, dark place. You know how in movies the guy gets a second chance? Doesn't happen in real life. Real life is about getting pushed back down into the mud and mmmm, don't it taste good.

Hence...

So I'm really drunk right now and am watching She's Out Of Your League. My chest hurts, it really hurts.
Hence the moustache...

Me Hate You Hate Me Hate You Hate Me...

OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD:
From the cleansing of the soul comes...
The power of Persuasion?
Alot of realities realised. Alot of thoughts being thought and...
Rejected. My brain processes aren't like most, yet they are as basic as anyone else. I'd guess you'd call them unique or more than a tste for the bland. In the end, everything has been done before.
Had I lived thousands upon thousands of years, I'd be a prophet. You'd turn an ear, you'd be apt to have your ears stand on end, let alone the end of your hairstrands...
You know what I mean now.
I found the great unreleased Adam Ant album around the same time as I lost my mind and pride I thought was unloseable. Funny, I know, right?
Have I lost my creativity? Let me know if you've seen it.
To have the world at your feet is to expect to end up at that very spot.
If you think this is a wrestling match with my faith, you are sorely wrong and should exit stage left immediately.
It is more an understanding of my current place and station in life, yet a yearning for more. To break out and strike it rich...
For the last couple of years at least I've been confusing downtroddeness with fury over mein own complacency.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I will figure this out, fix it, and show you the results. I'm so mad at myself right now. I meant good always, yet lost touch/faith in myself.
Things that I promise to myself:
I will stop killing my future.
I will slow the fuck down.
I will look people in the eye and kill them... metaphorically.
I will learn to shut my bitch ass mouth.

In the end, I'm well liked because I am brutally honest, even to myself. Am I alone? Probably not, but it will be squeezed out of you. It will be dashed upon the rocks of reason and reality. Trust me, I was once like, maybe even a little more ready to leap...
Never leapt, I am too scared to reveal myself to the likes of anyone that could ever hurt me with the knowledge they possess. Cryptic fucker, ain't I?
I reach out my hand, do you take it?
Do you cringe, or make a fatal mistake?
Do you glow, do you glitter?
Do you have that new car smell?
Like a bull in a China shop...

Yeah, I'm drunk but still...
I'm a madman.
The only people that matter have spoken. As a Repuplican, I've been wating and waiting for my luck to change. You need more than two years, while you gala-muthafucking-vant around the country? Fuck you, Obama, we voted, you"re soon to be lost in the shuffle...
Fuck you, I'm broke as shit thanx to your new "deals"...

Zappa-Luv...

Some guy from the ZAPPA forum hosted these. Amazing shots, a,azing everything.

oh, paul, i want be your babydoll.
Still can't typr, or see straight. Let me call it for you...

before you... slip into... unconsciousness... i'd... like to have a... nother kiss. another flashing glance at bliss, another kiss. another kiss. is death really ugly? i can only hope it is a rebirth, a rebirth. a death anew. life, is that you? i reject you, and hate you, yet love you. i contradict myself, and then i die again. and then die again. wait until he sleeps, wait until he sleeps. will it come soon? will it come soon?

Regal Smeagol...

So this is my little sweety, a dependent fought long and hard for in a knock down, drag out custody battle for the ages...
I love her. When I got her, she was kind of malnourished and neglected. I need to spend more time letting her stretch her legs. Too much time caged...
She's getting fatter now, but last night a mouse was in her cage eating her food, she almost got him. Next time...
I would love for her to eat raw meat, or maybe boiled chicken. Someday I want to raise a farmload of them, throw in live chickens and watch them devour it, feathers and all. This would be sweeeet.
Here she is, doing what she does best: SLEEP.
She can be quite a handful. Before she had a cage, she ran free, but I got tired of her not using her litterbox. Bad move on her part, because I ain't having it. I wish she would play more and hide less. She always wants you to chase or find her, and she can get into places you can't readily pull her out of.
Still, all in all, she is a great pet, I just wish I had more free time for her. I want to start making kickass ferret movies of her frolicking. We could all take note from a page in her book. That is if she could actually write some shit down, right?
So this is my little pet, dost thou liketh?
She has never bitten anyone, and I doubt she would. But if you are lower down on the food chain...
Watch out!
She used to ride my guinea pig and then sink her teeth into its shoulder. The shrieks were unbearable, so I got rid of the guinea pig. Besides, she stank, and shit constantly. And did nothing. If you were sneaking around the house in the dark, she would bust me out. When I'd be fucking, she'd make noise and throw me off, the little bitch.

So Hot, You're Cool...

Show me my favorite beauty spot...
Tie me up in a love knot.
Boiling everybody up...

This is how I run. No middle, only extremes.
I am sick today. My sinuses are killing me, my nose is dripping goo, and my lungs want to cave in on me all the time. I need a nurse, one in particular...
I don't know if I mentioned earlier, but if you get a chance to see The Walking Dead on AMC on Halloween night, then please do. You won't be sorry. Very nice zombies in that one. Done respectfully.
Don't see Paranormal Activity 2, or you will be sorry.
I'm going to see Ronnie Milsap Thursday night at the casino. That would be cool to meet him. I want to test his sense of smell by throwing some Silent But Deadly's his way and see how he reacts. Would his superpowers kick in and be able to tell from whose buns didst this gas pass from?
Would he even know what was on the menu the night before?
"Ummmm... meatloaf?"
Nope. But you're getting warmer...
"It's gotta be sloppy joe's, son!"
Right you are, Mr Milsap, right you are...

Thus the thread title...

Eggs Benedict Arnold...

Soon I have to skeedaddle but I will ramble at you for a few...
Some idiotic bitch tried to get me in trouble for putting for the suggestion that we should put exploding chips in the brainstems of illegal immigrants we catch which will detonate upon further crossings of the border.
Geeeeeeez.
Somebody's gotta come up with ideas here. I'm just spitballing. Anyway, said bitch trying to make me look all racial up in this piece.
Now, at least, I can say I hate one Mexican...

Chiefs lost again, on a bad fucking call. Somehow they are still on top of the division. Also, my Missouri Tigers moved up to 11 in the rankings while Arkansas dropped down almost where they belong...
In the toilet.
I have to go to my daughter's choir concert in a bit and am finishing up a nice little bake out session. Sounds better stoned as long as they don't do any more fucking Glee crap. Who the fuck really likes that shit?
I didn't like it the first time around when it was called Fame and Leroy wore supertight pants to show his package off to all the other prancing girlyboys.
OK, now not against gay people, just saying. If your kid likes this crap, worry.
Wonder what scared my parents? I like Olivia Newton John and the Pet Shop Boys...
Hmmmmmm.
Didn't take much to assure my parents Graveh was about ze poonanny.
Just a nice pair of footprints on the inside of my sunroof.
High five.

Severed Ties...

I miss you. You are dead to me now, or are you? Yet my memories never die. How you fucking hurt me.
Sad. Sad. SAD.
Everything is wrong, everything is wrong. Tell me what to do?
Up is down, right is wrong. Life is never what it seems. Love me, love me, LOVE ME.
I hate you, I hate you. I have never been wrong, yet never right. When will come my time?

Dark Days Indeed...

You know what that white stuff is on top of birdshit?
It's birdshit, too. Actually, it's probably their urine or whatever. Chickens have the same thing.
Who gives a fuck, right?
I just finished rereading The Invisible Man again, all on the toilet. Take that how you will, but he's a great writer. So is Michael Moorcock. Darkness...
Look deeply into mein eyes. Know that they search over your contemptible carcass with disdain. I hate you. I want to bathe in your juices. I want to dance with you as mein lifeless puppet.
Dirty brown...
Floppin' around...
Puffed up and bloated when the sun goes down...
So my beloved Chiefs are no longer undefeated, which is fine since they are doing way better than everyone thought. They are still in first place in their division, so suck it haters.
I made a giant deer chili Saturday. It was very spicy and wow. Ass dribblin's galore for the weak/week.
What else?
Soon to straighten a bunch of crap out. Wonder what it will bring with it?
Torn on a daily basis, inside and out/literally and metaphorically.
To want for yourself is often considered crime, one that is paid for to the very end.
The only other choice is to outlive.
Or outdistance...
Or outsource.
(Ha!)

My Only Friend, The End...

Howdy folks...
Been away for awhile, due to messed up internet. Thought I'd splooge all over this blog real fast.
Saw Let Me In. It wasn't bad, and Hit Girl was awesome in it. A- to be sure.
Work still sucks, I have to work at another plant tomorrow. Wish I didn't but at least it's not miles and miles away this time.
I will probably have to hook up another modem soon, this one has a built in router. I just hate messing with it all. Give me my porn now!!!
Also, Vampire Wars is pretty boring now that they've pussed out the game. I think I will quit soon and dump that account.
Boring, boring. But I'm working through the mope and almost imagining I see a tiny pinprick of hope. Things are better, but I'm still a little tender.
I have a friend/dealer that always wants to hang out. He reminds me of my friend Jay. There is always some kind of catch when you're with him. I prefer to toke alone for this reason. He calls me daily, I find myself avoiding him at work or anywhere else.
I need ME time. End of story...
Back off, world.