Give Me Time To Live It Up...

 Whoa, the postmaster has rung thrice this month so far. Vacation nearly over. Not really missing work. Not ready to put the silly nose back on just yet...
Ugh. Ever seen that movie where Nicolas Cage can go through the motions of daily life, and if'n he doesn't like it...
He can go back. I think it's called Next. I know I saw it, and probably posted on it here back in the day. Interesting concept, except I'd use and abuse the fuck out of it. I guess in the end I'd make an early save point where I could pretty much live out a life, and go back and second guess every second guess of every second guess. I'm pretty sure it'd be like back when I'd read those Choose Your Own Adventure type books as a child. I'd be too scared to commit to my choice, and would hold as many pages as I had fingers to be able to go back to a safe place. I guess that describes me to a tee...

Except you might as well throw in a dash of anarchy, balanced with a healthy smidgeon of fatherly, out of date wisdom. I wonder if everyone, or if anyone, wrestles with the giant pink baby of our fucked up coexistence. Would they bother to change a diaper, or lovingly coo at its initial fumblings with flatulence for an afternoon, let alone a measely fifteen minutes whilst I runs to da corner sto'...?
I used to think I was hurtling headlong into some sort of cataclysmic what ever the fuck, but boy...
Was I wrong?
I used to not have to rethink my thoughts in print, yet now I do. Was that last one really a question?
Wow. You know, I can't believe I let it all slide. I guess when it's gradual, you don't really notice the end result as hard.
And it helps the alternate reality your pride wants to remember to remain intact.
Imagine a future world where it all doesn't matter, all that makes you want to be a part of, be a working cog in the machinary spinning douchebaggery of...
It all dissipates, and then you wake to find you're still a babe in the woods.
And the horrifying story is even yet to be... uhhhh, beheld?
I truly understand how the true genius is never truly appreciated until well after the old ipso facto. I mean dead dead deadsky. Remember all those reports we used to have to do on Mozart and the other old wig wearing fools...
In the end they will all fade to nothingness as we all do in the end in the end in the end...
I want what this has turned into to end. I want the merriment to begin. I want the flagons to be filled, I want the confetti, I want the confetti...
I want a hero's return. I want the bards to recant earlier song with epic redemption of soul. I want to be the guy. I dream of walking among the masses and dealing out the judgement that they deserve. I dream the impossible dream. There are worse things, sadly enough, than the Rape of Nanking.
It is called the crime of nonchalance, the disregard...
Of all that is right and good.
I think the brightest stars burn for the longest time and give us a shitload of luminescence. The rest of us shine for awhile and then explode in a fiery explosion of explosive poo-ness.
I can't wait to reread this to myself and then forget it...
Nahhhhhhhhh......................
I know nothing of your life. I couldn't even presume to. I wish I was part of it. I hate that "another life" bullshit.
I also hate the old I wish I was your daddy but...
It'd be different anyway.
Wouldn't it?
In the end I'd win.
And you'd love me.
Didn't Hitler feel/think the same?
I'm truly living in the wild muthafuckin' west.

Apocalypsydoodle...

Ok then, folks. Messed around on some website and made myself into a zombie. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

 Then I did my daughter up. She was already wearing the helmet, so she had kind of an AD&D thing going on. Both of ours came out pretty good. And then there's this guy...

He was already a complete freakazoid before I put him through the wringer. Actually made him look even cooler than he was before, which was terrifying to behold...
Anyhoo, enough of that. After doing fuck all like this all morning, Cindi and I went to see This Is 40.
Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I'm going to have to admit it was a bit much. Could've been whittled down to an hour forty five minutes instead of two and a quarter. I think they chicked it out too much, and they needed more cameos besides Jason and the doctor. I wanted to see even a few seconds of Seth, anything. Where's Craig Robinson, the doorman from Knocked Up? So much more could've been done. I liked it, but they semi failed...
So, yay, this year is almost over. We didn't all die, or half of us end up craving the flesh of the other half of us. Vacation is almost over. Still Thursday, though, so back off. Jeepers...
What to do, what to do?
The internet is dead, by the way. All the fun places I used to go back when I once again got a sweeet new desktop in '05. Everything so kickass and full of endless possibilities, or at least until the next thing came along...
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
Now I just... GAWD. I won't completely blame this on Facebook, but it's doing its best to finish 'er offskies.
So little to do, see, anymore. Overloaded on images of suffering and destruction, or kittens chasing lasers...
I pine for the 80's. Plus everything was supersized. Nowadays, it's just the fries and the drink. Something's fucked up with that...

Super Stupors...

Wow, not sure when the last time was that I actually posted. Been awhile, I know that. I just haven't been feeling it, or have nothing interesting to say.
Ups and downs, baby.
I've been seeing alot of movies. The Collection, The Hobbit, End of Watch, others. All kickass, especially The Hobbit.
Right now I'm still waiting/wondering on the promotion coming up. I hope I get it, but it'll be hell once I do. I'm hoping to get it, settle in nicely, and go back to life before all this stress.
Nahhhh, scratch that.
I would like for everything to be wayyyyyy better than that.
Not sure what that'd take to happen, though. I have some ideas...
Yet alas.
Alot of things swirling around in a mind that'd be better left swept clean.
Also, planning on hitting the gym hard after the New Year. I know, I say this alot. But...
I don't really stray too far from semi in shape. I eat healthy most of the time, and I don't lay around like a fat fuck. Anyhoo, enough about that.
Sad about the Newtown kids, but tired of all this bullshit about wanting to take away all the decent peoples' guns. Check out the statistics, people. Places where good, honest folks can get them have less bad shit going on. Control, control, control. Couldn't be happy with things like keeping us filthy smokers outside with the trash, or limiting how much soda we can quaff down in one serving...
We are headed down a path strewn heartily with dogshit landmines. Not Chihuahua poo either, I'm talking Great Dane piles of steaming poo-ness. I also love how everyone who voted for Obama are still patting themselves smugly on their own backsides like they saved the world from certain doomage.
Puh-lease.
It'd be nice if people would pull together for greater things than this. Then again, if we didn't have such fine, upstanding celebrities like Angelina Jolie to usher in a new age of caring and understanding...
Where would we be?
Nothing like seeing her adopt a few rugrats, look down her nose at us for not giving everything we own to feeding the world's starving children, and then showing up to Hollywood crap in duds that could feed hundreds of people... for months!
Hell, I could probably get out of the red and well into the black with just her accesories alone.
The world is a fucked up place and I'm having a hard time feeling any of the love. It all feels phony to me.
The only difference between me and them is that I'm not deluding myself.
Guess it makes most feel better about themselves.
Distractions.
Makes a guy wish he could go catatonic.
Just please let someone come by and play with my ding dong from time to time...