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.