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!