Kai-JU, Mother Brother...

I watched a Russell Simmons thang that was on Netflix last night. The subtitles were on, and I was too lazed/glazed to fix it. It ended up being pretty funny. They let you know when it was time to laugh, along with letting you know just how darn funny twas...
I liked it, but mostly for the impressions. His Chinese is hilarious. Speaking of not which, I'm watching some special features stuff from Pacific Rim. It amazes me that the hot Asian chick speaks so well in the movie, but on these documentaries she is a constant FAIL. Like it matters, I'd be all over that. Who cares if she sounds like Ms. Swan?
Damn, now I wish I'd put a picture of her so it won't seem so cryptic. Anyhoo, boredom, but at least I'm off work on another Friday. Like I said earlier, I'm watching all the crap from Pacific Rimjerb, and getting superbaked doing thusly. So, in about two hours I will get myself to a meeting, and blah blah bippity blah. More coffee, basically...
Kaiju? Are there other movies and thangies out there? I liked the movie immensely, I found myself chuckling evilly from time to time, but mostly rooting for the monsters. I guess I'll have to get read up later on the whole subject. Urrrgghhhhhh, I no longer feel into this post. WTF?!?
I'm all antsy in the pantsy right now. I do realize I could be at work instead, so I'm thankful for that. I just wish I was privy to something, anythang...
All from the comfort of mein own chillastic couch.
Trying to get a motherfucking scholarship up in this bitch.
Coming muy pronto:
Me melting slowly into the sofa as Del Toro commentates his latest masterpiece...
And thinking of some Long John Silver's.

Spark and Wildfires...

On the way home from somewhere, I was pondering...
As I often do.
Some deep relationship with everyone in the universe kind of stuff, as well as on the more personal level.
Deep, twas. but I'm too lazy to hammer that all out now.
Sparks turning into wildfires, and how the cold dampness of harsh reality comes in to snuff the flame before it can...
You know how it all turns out, or is meant to, right?
Anyhoo, boredom and gloom and doom.
Not working today, and a half day yesterday, due to government shutdown. Planning on watching something on blu-ray after I get back from something in a bit, not sure what. I'm currently listening to Bob Saget blurt out some cray cray.
Walking Dead this weekend. Can't wait. This, and the Chiefs making K.C. proud...
Loving my Sundays for awhile. Hell, with the Missouri Tigers doing well, and the St. Louis Cardinals kicking ass, my whole damned weekend is blissful.
See? I'm easily pleased. Get with the picture, folks.
WTF?!?

October-Fist.

Can anyone here in the void guess what music video this is from? The only hint is that it starts with bells.
Wonder if, as I scroll down through my life hopefully many years in the thither, I will even remember what it was exactly myself. I will probably be all like, "Who the fuck are those people, and where is my pudding?!?"
So I will never tell...
Anyhoo, not doing anything tonight. I was planning to go see a movie, but ehhhh.............
Mmmmm, some frozen Reese's Pieces do sound good, though. Me wantses. Must eatses.
We needses...
Kind of hungry now. I had Subway earlier when I got home. Admittedly, it was a foot long, but that was like at 5. It is now 10:30pm, so suck it.
Say cheese, baby.
So I'm waiting to get paid, hopefully the government will get their shit together. WTF?!?
Not sure, but we may be getting a settlement from them anyhoo, so if it is true, then it'd take a bit of the sting out of it. A few thousand or three would be nice, but no need to hold back.
Let it rain, bitches.
Ha, I forgot I was blogging for a bit. Went outside with the dog, smoked a cigarette, all that.
Now I'm all out of steam. I hear music, and stupidity abounding. I would like to snack out on something special, and then conk out. Doesn't look like that's going to happen...

Tub and Rug...

 Wheee, look at all those dark and gloomy skyscrapers. Somebody call David Lee Roth. Anyhoo, I have to work at 6:30 am. Luckily, it'll not be on the line. I just hope they're not expecting anything above and beyond. I likez to read the paper at my leisure, usually 45 minutes to an hour, in the private, secluded bathroom in our office. Maybe let one of those foot long burritos cool after I nuke the hell out of it. Yeah...
Not sure what is on tap this weekend after that's done. I was thinking we might all go see This Is the End one last time before it comes out on blu-ray, which I shall immediately own. Oops, I forgot that Kansas City will not be shown on TV, so I will have to watch mein beloved Chiefs probably at Buffalo Wild Wings.
Phooey!!!

But I'm sure K.C. will be 4-0 after this weekend. The Giants suck donkey balls against the run, among other defects. I just hope it doesn't make us too cocky. I also need Jamaal Charles to have a big day. He's only number ten on the top running backs list, and he should be number one. Love my Chiefs...
So, other than that, not much going on. Living erryday, dying a little erryday. The only constant being:
Erryday I'm hustlin'...
Wish I had more cool shit to say, but the well is dry. Not really feeling it either.
Now you're just making it awks...
Stop looking at me, jerko. I don't wanna puke on mah new rub and tug...

Rainbows in Hell...

 Who-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o...
Could imagine?
That they would freak out...
In Philadelphia-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a!!!
Yes, my beloved Chiefs won Thursday night in Philly, ex home of our current coach, Andy Reid. Before him, it was like 4 out of 5 ex head coaches had lost in their openers to their ex team. I think it was Bill Parcells that had escaped the numbers. Now there is another, and he is turning heads in K.C. right now. Boy howdy!!!
So there will be no football for me this weekend. Too baked to remember who we have next, dammit. We're looking pretty good, but we still have some improvements to make. Sometimes we let people stay i the game a bit. I want total domination, and I'd like to see Jamaal Charles get a bunch more yards. I gots money riding on this...
Last night we saw Insidious 2. I thought it was pretty nifty, but a bit different than the first installment. This had some slapstick moments, and really only focused on two ghosts. I also knew right from the start that the ghostie that was after the guy in the first was a dood. It was pretty simple to figure out he was some sort of serial killer. Like I said, it was good enough as a sequel, but a bit cornier than the last one.
So anyway, my daughter had her little boyfriend over today. She is 17 now, but it still kind of weirds me out. For one thing, I want no affection in front of me. I find that disrespectful. Also, anything other than holding hands would only cause me to throttle someone. Hard to explain, so I won't. Anyways, she just came in and we were talking about him. I guess I'm ok with him as long as they understand what is on my not to do list...
Should we move on?

Sure, why not? That was a bit awks.
Blah blah blah. Now I'm stumped for what to say. Wish I was superwasted, or maybe lightly on acid. I dunno. Just a deeper head change or something. Or maybe just some good tranquilizers, and sleepytime.
Sometimes I need to see a rainbow in Hell.
Something that'll give me the courage to face the whip yet again, so that when the whip cracks on my back, I will be able to still crack that smile...
I should try posting when I'm super high up there in happyland. Today I am all touchy not feely, sans the touchy part. It's like I have a time machine, but wherever I may go, I will only do more harm than good. I feel selfish, but pre-vindicated to do whatever the fuck I want, regardless of  the fact that everyone else seems happy in the paths they've chosen. Am I just to be a briefly crossing line invading upon the territories of the oblivious, meandering my way in and out of their lives as if with no rhyme or reason?
Do I even cross their minds?
The real question is why I should even care. To be sought out, to be won over, to be...
The prize.
I shouldn't even want that, but vanity wins the day once again. My hunger for THE GLORY disturbs me from time to time, but I shudder to think of what I'm capable of were I to lose that so called handicap.
I hate that I want love, and your ears, and your minds to bend towards me eagerly for words that I would refuse to speak. This is not out of cruelty, of course, but cruel enough nonetheless...
"Let's pull the wounded dog from under the wheel, and nurse it back to full constitution, and make it a full fledged member of our little community thangie."
Do he bite?
Who out there in this wide, wide world of sports is daring enough to give it a try? I'm not even sure I'd like a female version of me, let alone a clone to hone my bone...
I probably need a handler instead. I don't bite, but I do have a wicked sting. Maybe I need a keeper then.
Fuck the honey, though...
Peace out, my niggs.

Owner of a Lonely Fart...

Morning, lads. Feeling tender anywheres?!?
"Not I," said the fly. Ok, he thought it at the very least. Saw WWZ again last night, yet sadly missed the beginning mayhem. I can't wait to see it on blu-ray, and to glean all knowledge and extra tidbits from it. I will unlock its secrets, then immediately smother the brain cells I stored said knowledge in...
Happy 3 days after 9/11, by the way. Let's just get that out of the way while we still have it fresh in our minds. Too bad we're spending the current presidential run pissing all over it. Of course, the libtards are strangely quiet. Probably sniffing their own farts, so pungeantly aromatic... so...
Smells like guns... thunder.
I really have no form today, nor a plan of attack. I'm just sort of winging it right now. Ok, perhaps I'm sitting Indian style on my bed, toking away as I jam out to 80's remixes.
It is my life.
Don't tell me what to do.
O_o

All Else is Hollow...

'Ware ye one and all, as splinters are more than plentiful in these parts...
Under your nails, and such.
They might flake off and find a way past your heel and into the softer underbelly...
Yikers.
No movie tonight, just glad I'm done with another trying work week in hell. I seem to be struggling. I need something to pump this shit up. Get this badboy into gear.
Work, and just being around people in general, sucks the very life out of me. I often find myself with no feelings for any...
Blergh. I'm trying to get a run going with this blog. I think I'm probably better taken in small doses, where you don't see the inbetween times...
When the body speaks...

Always Something There to Remind Moi...

Awwww, Hell's Bells. How ya been since... ohhhhhh, a shade under 24 hours?
Naked Eyes, I'd love to have a chock full data cd of all their schnizz to play endlessly in mein main minivan.
Moving along:
Still throwing grenades at outstretched arms.
Sometimes they come back to papa.
I often wonder why I'm destructive in nature. Do I unconsciously do this to hasten departure?
Nobody likes a Lingering Larry...
It does, at times, feel like I'm chiseling away slowly at a hidden escape passage straight out of Alcatraz.
I think I see greener grass. It pisses me off. Why'd they have to go and do that?
Anyhoo, I leave you now to unearth a hidden bag of Doritos calling to me from its lofty perch in a cupboard over the stove...
I'm coming, darling.

Look, Up in the Sky...!!!

A world on the brink. The wagons are circling, we are now on the ropes. Doom and gloom.
Strange that I listen to an extended version of Owner of a Lonely Heart, when I am guilty of such vain pursuits just the same...
This all does not compute. I am once again befuddled. I need a savior, I need a miracle.
I need a guy part Superman, part Billy Dee Williams...

Unfortunately, this guy was not available for services rendered. At least not the kind I would be interested in...

OUCH.

Anyhoo, the type on this blog has gotten all funny on me, and I'm feeling a quivering in my rumblebelly region. I hunger for something I'm sure is not readily available.

Damn you, Chef Ramseys the Damned!!!

Today I know no peace. 

Nothing seems to help. 

Some bite sized Kit Kats might soothe the burn a bit.

Also, lastly but not leastly:

The James Franco Roast on Comedy Central was hilarious. Seth Rogen and gang truly made this by far the best entry in the run so far. It really helps to have actual friends come and roast the guy. I do wish they'd have gotten Craig Robinson and Jay Baruchel, and most importantly, Danny McBride. 

That would've made it unbelievable. Sarah Silverman won hands down, but Jeff Ross had the best burn, to Franco's granny. I was like, "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh, dang."

Anyhoo, one last time. I'm done.

I'm outtie.

At least you get to move on, I'm stuck with little old moi. 

Wahhhhhh.

Black Superman, though. 

Pretty dang sweeet.

Loaded For Bear...

Or is that barely loaded?
Tonight is the James Franco roast on Comedy Central, with my main man Seth Rogen doing it up as host guy thang. Getting superbaked for this as we speak...
I needed it, too. Paranoia. Loathing of all around me, including meinself double. Does delusion mask it all, or become the new reality?
Sometimes I feel intensely suicidal. Too bad that doesn't go well with being a complete pussyfart when it comes to pain. Anyhoo's...
Like I've said, I'm trying to break out of some weird funk, or just...
I don't know. I think I might be ready for some changes in life. Why do they all involve me being utterly alone with no one but this devilishly handsome, uhhhhhh... devil staring back at me from the mirror?
"Who you callin' scruffy?"
Bunch o' nerfherders...
Tears on the keyboard, muthafuckas.
Yeah, right!

Purpoise and Porpose...

Look at the pretty fireworks, Ma?
It is late, 12:45 am to be exact. What am I doing up? Wouldn't you like to know?
Watching Chris Elliott interviews and stuff all night.
Ben Affleck as Batman? I hate it. It will be enough to make me miss this piece of crap. Bummer, had promise before this revelation/turdfest.
Saw We're the Millers. I liked it, but it was hardly a stoner comedy, which I'd hoped it was. Very formulaic, but I like that guy, Jason Whateverthefuckhisnameis...
Overall an ok movie, nothing special. Maybe I just wasn't into it. I need something spiffy.
I need THOR.
Wait, aren't porpoise illegal?
The mid 80's. Watching a skit from Letterman back in the day, circa mid 80's. He's on a boat with Paul, and Chris Elliott doing a southern accent. I yearn and burn for those times. To be young again, with the knowledge I now have, hmmm...
It's now 1 am. I'm tired. I'm also bored shitless. The things I want. I wish it would be given to me, so I can gaze upon it lovingly as it does exactly as I'd always wanted, as if that were what it had been made for, its purpose.
I keep nudging towards it. Give it to me, please. you know deep inside you want it, too.
Yeah.

More Inane Babble...

 Such is the nature of nature, definitely not to nurture...
I just got back from pigging out at some casino buffet. I am soooooooooo stuffed. This is, in fact, the first time I've really gotten to sit down and relax since I got off from work. It is now 8:50 pm...

Time to get a smoke on. I'm kind of wore out, not sure I should do anything but huddle shakily under the covers in the dark. I have to work at George's manana, I do so hate that place.
I taste tacos and broccoli...
And not in a good way. I was listening to Paul Young earlier, now it has moved on to the B-52's. Can't find anything near as good today as what we had back in the day. I promise to end this gripe right now. Not going to say how shitty everything is today. Not.. going to...
Anyhoo, I'm going through my Star Wars blu-ray box set extras now that I'm done with Get a Life. So sad that I am, too. Great show!!!
Other than that, bored shitless. Sometimes I just naturally bounce off of all the walls. I have no explanation for it, and I feel weird when it kicks in. It makes me want to run far away and never come back.
Someday, maybe, I will...
I guarantee it won't be on another planet, as if they'd risk taking me. I'd need strong meds and bonds, because I would freak out. I love space, but it messes with me even thinking about it anymore. The vastness makes me swirl, and not in a good way.
Oh my GAWD there is a fly in here and he continually lands on or extremely near me. Everything. Everything.
And it all amounts to nothing.
In the end.
You get it in the end.
Get it?
Got it?
Good and painful.
The blu-ray for This is the End comes out October 1st. Barely a month away, but seeming to take forever. We saw it twice at the theater, but I was hoping it'd come to the discount one so I could see it a few more times. I will be stoked to see it in blu-ray, though. Best movie hands down I've seen this year.
This, and new Walking Dead, is what I long for now. And football...
Go CHIEFS!!!

Would a Little More Bud Make It Right...?

Sitting here running through my Youtube favorites playlist. Olivia Newton John followed by PiL, can't get any better than that.
Today we saw Kick-Ass 2. It was, well, pretty darn kickass...
I give it an A. Loved the story, loved the gore, loved the good and bad guys. I'd love to see a sequel, but not sure where that would fall in with how this one ended. Not sure.
It was nice to have a final Friday off, especially two days before my birthday. I will be 41. My, how the time doth fly...
I feel ok, I've been taking better care of myself, and getting some blood pumping here and there. I'm waiting for that moment when I decide to truly hit it hard. Oh, it's coming...
Anyhoo, blah blah, and life sucks. People just seem to turn on you without warning. Show compassion, and get eaten alive. Play the game, and you might as well tattoo "Dickhead" across your forehead. I don't get it, and I'm not sure I want to. People are definitely overrated. If you want a collection of them, you have to do things like: listen to their shitty music interspersed with your own. They can't just sit back and let you guide them, they have to try to turn you on to their crapfest in crisp clear crispityness. Not cool.
Also, people like to tell you their horror stories. Wah wahhhhh, someone touched me. I'm not saying that doesn't suck, but why the fuck are you telling ME about it? People like to dump their crap life on you when they drink. No thanks.
What else?
They talk, and it never ends. Makes me wish I carried a nail gun. Right in the...
Johnson!!!
Too bad I can't clone myself, and all of me run away together. What fun!!!
Lastly, my old English teacher, Ms. McCarty was posted to have died. Apparently all the way back in 1996, not that long after we all graduated. She was my nemesis for my Junior year. I was actually pretty fucked up and mean to her. I'm not even sure why. Now, I know you probably thin I'm either going overboard on this, or that this sounds bad. I never did anything super horrible, I just totally dominated her mentally and emotionally. I realize now that she was probably a full blown alkie, and I probably made her life hell while she had me. Sad. I wish that I'd not been such a douche to her. Wonder what killed her?
It's strange how things seem to be different when you're living in a dream. Isn't it?
I seem to be having alot of moments, daily, when derealization makes me wonder if I couldn't just exist in my own shit somewhere far, far away from the idiots poisoning the air around me.
Questions for another time, I guess. Right now I have to go get more beer for people. See how they cause toil and trouble?
Boring. I need baubles, I need pets. Rubies...
Ferrets!!!

Hey, Would You Like To Buy a Monkey...?!?

Howdy ho, folks.
Happy joyous day. Oh, happy joyous muggy black day...
I just got the box set of the complete run of Get a Life on dvd. Chris Elliott is the Sigue Sigue Sputnik of the sitcom early 90's. He was/is just too much for the regular viewing public, or as I like to call them: nitwits.
Now all I need to do is find a copy of Cabin Boy somewhere. It'd be better if there were some lavish blu ray out there. Maybe someday...
I laugh my balls off. I will watch as much of it as I can tonight. Later will come the commentaries. Too bad I read Chris and his writing buddy did sweeet commentaries of their own, which weren't used.
WTF?!?
That's the peoples I want to hear from. I did see there are some featurettes with Judd Apatow on them. I can't wait to see them, I'm sure he loves the show. How could he not?
Anyhoo, half a day tomorrow, then off until Monday again. Maybe I'll win that Powerball tonight, and never have to look back.
To dream. If only...
I would probably age backwards for a few years at least. Don't get me started. Why do rich douchebags just seem to live forever?!?
The wrong people, I tell you. The world. Why? Just...
Give a nigga a chance.
Dayumn.

Just Another Manga Monday...

In defense, this picture was taken awhile back, when the chin had company. I've slimmed up quite a bit since then. Last week I also had a pretty good stomach thangie going on, and just continued to eat healthy afterward. I'm also doing some lifting, and a few other basic stuffs to get it to spark the little bits into a raging fire...
Just got back from seeing R.I.P.D.
Wasn't bad, but the CG monsters were kind of lame. I still give it a B.
Ugh, we ate a whole bag of peanuts, though, and my tongue is super salt dried right now. That, and the kush, make this fellah one thirsty hombre. I just turned around to find I didn't think ahead to bring a giant drank of H2O up in hurr...
BRB.
Anyhoo, I had today off. Wish I never had to work again, and had oodles of dough to just have fun. Sad that some people waste more money on worthless crap while most of us wonder what it'd be like to live it up. Were I rich, I'd do some cool things, of course. But some of the idiotic shit others do, I'd steer clear of.
Too bad the assholes get to live longer by way of less stress through pampered living, while we toil away to die wondering how we're going to scrape a means of living those last few decrepit years.
Guess it makes religion seem not so silly when you're faced with hell here followed by nothingness. Maybe this is hell now, and we've already fucked the dog somewhere else. A lifetime of despair, and then poof!!!
This weekend is Russfest, but a friend claims it will be a party of non epic proportions, with a guest list of two. I never went to the bench they dropped his ashes at and what not. I would like to someday.
Too bad I'm a lazy bastard, but he'd understand.
I want to go see Keith soon in jail. I also want to hang out some Saturday night with Greg, and make him burn a butt ton of sweet sweet cheeba. Throw in there a nice hang with my parents, maybe some cashew chicken...
It's one in the a.m. right now. Birthday coming up, hope I can remember to post on that day. Wow, 41 I'll be. Strange, indeed.
It's all fucking strange, isn't it? The millions of years of evolution that has brought us to this point, where we do the daily fucked up shit that we do to each other. Strange, and sad.
Good thing we have Matt Damon and Angelina Jolie to lovingly guide us towards giving what little we gots to others who will count the money we send, and stuff giant wads of it into their bulging pockets, and let a few wayward bills and coins waft down into grubby hands that just squander it away on shiny baubles...
We need a hero, Bonnie. We're holding on for a hero til the end of the night...
You old slut.

Call It What You Will...

Pointless...
Unless I can find a time machine, and the ageless ability to chase down each interesting thread to its conclusion, then I'm not interested. Myself, I'm not even remotely stirred by the notion of otherworldly pleasures, nor the need to rut around like pigs on the poke, so to speak.
Clones, then?
I wish, but it'd be better to just say and do the things as they are meant to mean. Ha, and be meant...
Life sucks, and WTF am I doing here? Please tell me that there is nothing after this worthless shithole life, or that it's all ice cream and orgasms, or whatever the kids these days are calling it. I highly doubt it. We are probably resoulcycled over and over, usually as a bug that gets stepped, on or baby varmint that gets immediately gulped down by a predator, interspersed with painfully long spans of a shitty life led by some dood trying to just fucking live. Wah wahhhhhhh, sad.
I don't know what to do sometimes. Tired of wishing things, now I just want to be able to do them. The means...
I'm ok though, I guess. Early sparks of motivation?
I am a tidal wave that will hopefully roll over the streets and wash away the trash and shitty buildings all ghettoey...
Ew.
Muthafucka gotst ta go!!!

Sippy Time...

Hey there, howdy doody!!!
I'm the Union Man, you can call me Rudy!!!
Need to use the bathroom, hon? I will get the usual banter out of the way. Saw The Wolverine today. I thought it was great, fuck Yahoo's weird bullshit prepremiere verbal flogging. Also, blah blah blah...
It is 6:38 in the a.m. as I type that. Mmmmm, coffee. I was outside smoking, and thinking back on, sayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, since around 2006ish. Damn, my blog has taken a tour through Bleaksville by way of quicksand. All gloppity gloop, and a bunch of sucking noises, as you sink, sink, sink...
The darkness, however, does give way to light. It doesn't matter that this light may blossom only to a cold and dreary grey throb of...
Not today, boys. I actually find mirth in my melancholy meanderings, thus they no longer hold sway. I'm riding the waves like Snake Plissken in that crappy sequel that one guy did. You know the one.
Dimples McGee I think was his handle.
It is now 6:47.
I am watching some Gerard Butler soccer dad movie where he seems to be humping his way through the moms and such. Wha-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-t? Uma Thurman is waiting in his bedroom, and she just now found out she's actually in his Middle Eastern landlord's bedroom, possibly to be swept away in the wiskery broomage of the sex trade's brisk arm... movement of some sort. Couldn't think of a good word to sploot all over that sentence.
Anyhoo, not sure as to say how I feel. I don't whine about anymore, or mope so much. My only thang seems to be physical energy, but I'm working on that, too. Too bad cigarettes are so awesome. Why do I love thee, yet you reward us with things like wrinkles, lung cancer, no dreams of running a marathon, etc...?
I would love to not need to work for a living. I'm only 40, I'd love to take up boxing. No aspirations, no worry. I don't want anything other than just to have that spring to my step. I remember shadow boxing as a kid. Nothing fancy, but I got to the point where I could keep up a constant barrage for several minutes without letup or really even tiring. I have no idea why I did this from an early age through my early teenage years. I also always did hundreds of sit ups daily, and pull ups. I grew up amazingly in good shape. Skinny as fuck, but I never got beat down. I got fucked with alot, being smaller, but never had any repeat customers.
Why do I slam face first into the bricks every time I think of daring to break a sweat?
No idea, I need momentum. I need to tear my shirt from my bronzed breastices with Hulkamania in mein eyeholes...
I need a target. I need a muse. I need a hug in heart and mind.
I seek some peace, a smattering of solace on my toast. All melty...
I now turn the page to the next chapter of IT ALL.
And I no longer fear you. I have memorized the last zillion pages, and have committed them to, uhhh...
Memory? Yeah. So back up off my D, and give me back that mojo.
It is now 7:07 a.m. I fade off without even a cricket's chirp...
Nor a mouse fart.

Someone's On CPT...

Wow, my amigo looks like he's been through the emotional wringer. I hope to visit him in the near future.
I also have to be out of here in, say... 20 minutes, so I'm going to just bang out what's in my deranged and delusional head quick and dirteh...
First off, I'm hungry. Fried chicken sounds nice, yet alas. I was getting fat again eating alot of Burger King innards that were being brought home. I was making mein own Whoppers and Chicken Sammiches, times INFINITY. Dangerous, yet delicious, I always say...
Damn it, 20 minutes are up. How time fucking flies, folks. Peace out.

Mental Floss...

I struggle with a bit of a tussle. A quibble with all of the bits, and butts to boot. I feel as if I should warn you of something, yet it escapes me once again.
Or is it due to lazed glaziness of mein eyes...
What about your dog, does he have glaucoma, too?
I lucked out today, and went home from work after only three hours, not even all of that was spent actually on the line. I am grateful for this, but what do I do when it doesn't go as smoothly?
I fret and bemoan all of existence.
I would love to be super loaded. The idiot who said that money can't buy happiness must've had money. Either that, or he was just a douche...
I saw Grown Ups 2 tonight. Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I give it a solid B+, but definitely more early matinee fare. I can't imagine I would've shit myself over Pacific Rim Job, but I'm waiting for some other thangies to come out in the near future...
Anyhoo, boredom looms. Laters.

Dr. Strange...

 Arrrrrrggggggghhhh, look at mein head. I actually look like some inbred guy that I occasionally have to work with. Sad for him. No problem for me because when I'm done with this little gem on my webcam...

I will become a doctor of the strange and bizarre.
Dayumn, what if my head really looked like that?!?
Anyhoo, watching Resident Evil something on blu ray with the commentary on. The director is married to Mila Jovavich, if that's even how you spell her name.
Jehovahvich. I give up. They should, too. Stop making them so they can be started over and done right...
Please?