Okay, I'm Retarded

Everything I said a couple of days ago is bullshit. Well, not all of it. In fact, it's all true except that...wait, it's all true.

But, after two days of sitting here and thinking about things, I have decided to just finish the first draft of the script. Fuck how bad I feel while I'm writing it. I'll just channel that anger and hate and bile and rage back into the script and hopefully, when I'm finished, I'll feel just as bad, but maybe I'll have a script that will make a few people feel bad about how horrible they are as people. And maybe, just maybe, they will get ass herpes or something. That would be funny. Anyhow, I just finished making about seven hundred mp3's, which is equal to about thirty hours of non-stop music. That means I have more than enough rock to help me thru the writing of the first draft. I'll still be making more mp3's, though, just so I have more variety while I'm bored out of mind trying to write something funny.

Who Is This God Person Anyway?

I just saw the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. If you don't like this movie you are a fucking moron. Sure, it strays from the book quite a bit, but it's the way Douglas Adams wanted it. There wasn't anything in the movie that didn't feel like Adams himself hadn't written it himself. Some parts were slow, but if that's the worst thing you can say about a movie, then it's better than most already.

Anyhow, I plan on seeing this movie quite a few more times in the next few weeks. I am a nerd. I don't care. And in three weeks, I'll see the new Star Wars movie quite a few times. Kevin Smith says it's pretty damn awesome and he knows his Star Wars shit.

Anyhow, that's all. I don't like this anymore.

I'm a Fan of Bad Religion

I just got the latest NOFX 7" and the b-side is a song called I'm a Fan of Bad Religion. Of course, I haven't listened to it, yet. I don't own a record player because they cost like $80 and frankly, I'm not dishing out that amount of cash. It's not worth it. Besides, one day I'll go over my mom's house and use her record player and hook it into her computer and put the records on cd. That way, no damage to the vinyl, but I'll still get to hear all the pops and cracks and shit. It will be great.

Anyhow, the lyrics to the NOFX song are about how Bad Religion signed to Atlantic Records and it was weird, but then they went back to Epitaph and things are cool again. I know, it's not Shakespeare, or even Robert Frost (Sorry, I think Frost sucks balls.) for that matter, but it makes me smile. That's more than I can say about a lot of things.

So, my friend Greg is getting married in little over a month. I hate weddings. I hate them with a passion. In fact, I think marriage is stupid, but I can understand why other people would want to get married. In fact, I'm jealous of anyone who can find someone they want to be with for the rest of their lives and I wish I could find that, but look at me. I look like a fat ten year old. Not exactly marriage material.

But, anyhow, Greg's getting married and since I was invited, I feel that I owe it to him to show up and make fun of him for getting married. I think that if I didn't make fun of him, he'd feel cheated. It's what I do. And, boy, is Greg's wedding going to be a goldmine for me. He's getting married in a field. They're wearing white sheets. And, barefoot.

Now, I love Greg to death, but if I don't rag on him, it will be a miss opportunity. It's funny, though. Back in high school, if you had told me that someone I knew was going to be getting married in that fashion, I would have thought that I might be the person. I used to be into the whole "poetry and nature" vibe, but I outgrew it. It wasn't for me. Greg, on the other hand, grew into it.

It's weird, to me, that one person can grow out of something because it's too "immature" for him, but think it's great that someone else grew into it. I'm happy that Greg's found himself. I found myself, too, but in a totally different way. Frankly, we are polar opposites as far as who we grew into, but we enjoy each other's company more than we ever did. How does that work? I really don't know.

Anyways, Greg's getting married. I'll be there to see it. I'll be wearing my tuxedo t-shirt. It will be awesome. I'm sure it will be a good time. Just seeing Greg will be good for me, I think. Whenever I see a friend or two, I tend to relax a bit, but with Greg, I mellow out a lot. Maybe he's my stress' kryptonite or something. I really don't know.

I don't know much of anything anymore. Wednesday night, I went for a little drive just to clear my head and I almost kept driving. For about ten minutes, I was developing a plan to drive to some random town and just live there. Show up, and start looking for a job. Just drop everything and everyone in my life and start a new one. Then, I remembered that I had to return the dvds I had rented, so I turned around and dropped them off. Then I went home and didn't cry. I wanted to, but I'm too big of a jerk to cry anymore.

Kind of depressing, I know, but it's the truth. I think the last time I cried, actually cried good and hard, was when my father was in the hospital and no one knew what was wrong with him. After a couple of weeks, they learned that his heart valve was infected and was causing the infection in his lungs and they had to operate. They gave him a fifty percent chance of surviving the night. That night I bawled my eyes out.

I dare you to call me a pussy for that.

Am I boring you yet with the same old shit again?

God, 40 Oz. to Freedom might be the best album ever. I mean, I know that it's not the most musically or lyrically intricate music, but it's got the best of both worlds. It is just as thrashy and abrasive as it is mellow and soothing.

How many albums are there that you could play at a wild party as well as a relaxing barbeque? Only one, if you ask me.

Of course, no one does ask me. Oh, I get asked tons of questions. All the time, but does anyone actually listen to my answers?

Apparently not.

Why is it that everyone seeks out my advice like it's fucking gold, but once I give it, they avoid it like it's the plague? And what happens after they ignore my advice? Well, they return to me to tell me they didn't listen to what I said and could I please tell them what to do.

Fuck my friends. Seriously. Fuck them.

They only ever seem to want to talk to me when they have a problem or when they want to tell me how great their life is. It can get fucking annoying. Do I want to hear how much better you are than me? Oh please, do tell me how wonderful your life is so I can feel just a little bit shittier about myself. Oh, now you have a problem? And you want to tell me all about it? Great. Who should I talk to when I have a problem? Oh, you're too busy to talk? Wonderful. Being ignored sure helps you feel better, doesn't it?

Lagwagon has a song called Smile and it explains things in a more musical way. Find it, download it, hear it, learn it, know it, live it.... then hate your friends.

For those of you who don't give a shit anyway, the short film script is temporarily on hold for the time being. I'm not scrapping it or anything like that, but I need to take some time off because it's depressing as hell to write. When you don't see the film, you won't know why it's depressing so I'll just fucking tell the zero people reading this.

It's my way to tell certain people to take a flying fuck so it kind of hurts to think of all the shit that some people have slung on top of me so that I can write the very mean things that I'm writing. Then I have to think about how much of myself I gave to these certain people and how much they took and took and took and couldn't have cared less about me. Anyhow, fuck those people. Fuck my friends. And fuck you, too, now that I think about it.

Since U Been Gone

How gay am I? I finally, finally, finally found an actual working mp3 of that Kelly Clarkson song that is surprisingly good. Not good, great. I really, really like it. Does that make me gay? Well, I do blow guys when I listen to it. That don't make me gay, does it?

I've now completed sixteen pages of my script and with that, four out of nine scenes have been finished. Granted, there is going to be a lot of rewrites and editing and whatnot, but just the fact that I have this much writen is a huge accomplishment. And, not to toot my own horn, but it's pretty fucking funny. Not hilarious, but that's what Gib is for.

So, my roommate's doctor told me that I'm not allowed to have any "Wild Kinky." I told him that he had nothing to worry about since I can't seem to even have some "Boring Missionary." You're probably wondering why my roommate's doctor told me that, well, that's too fucking bad. It's not my place to explain. If you know my roommate then you probably know what happened. If you don't, then you don't need to know, ya nosey prick.

Do you people know that you can comment on the shit I write? Seriously. Let me know how much you hate me. Let know how big of a loser you think I am. Or, don't be an asshole and say you love me. And while you're at it, give me a reach around while you're down there kissing my ass. But, seriously, I don't have any friends, so I have no human contact with out this internet thing. Leave a message. Or email me. Or call me. Or move into my room. I don't care. I'm lonely.

I'm so lonely, I'm going to bed tonight without even jerking off. It ain't right.

Cool Edit Pro V2.0

So, this is the fifth time that I've come into possessiong of Cool Edit Pro. It's a pretty sweet recording program that costs a buttload of money. The last time I had it, I recorded some shitty demos that you can find at the Bojangles section of the Fat Tony site. I think there are eleven songs. A few are pretty good, I think.

But, I digress. Since the last time I had the program, I've written a dozen or so songs that I'll soon be recording just so three people can appreciate them. I'll probably redo the other songs, too. I've found a new way of singing that isn't as high pitched and annoying, so I might try it out on the other songs. Or I might not. Who really cares?

So, it's a Friday night and I'm home alone and bored out of my mind. That's really nothing new, but for some reason I'm not too depressed about it tonight. Normally, I start thinking about how lame I am and all that and I get bummed out and that eventually leads to me being depressed as hell. I wish I knew what was different about tonight. I'd collect it, bottle it and then take it every week.

Is it mean to use a movie as a way to tell someone off? And, if it is, is it still wrong if the person you're telling off treats you like shit and couldn't care less about what you have to say? I hope it's not wrong because that's the only reason I'm writing my stupid short film. I might actually call it "You Are a Horrible Person!" or something like that. Or, maybe I'll write it and then see if there's a title that would sum it up best.

I really need a girlfriend.

Seriously.

But, that won't happen anytime soon. That's why I have decided to start drinking. I think I'll try for the "artsy" drunk and only drink wine. The only people who drink wine are art majors and people like that. I don't think you're allowed to look down upon someone who drinks too much wine. They are too sophisticated.

Maybe my thing will be that I only get drunk off of cooking sherry. That would be a gimmick and a half.

Anyhow, that's enough for tonight. It's time to start working on the script.

Peace out homies.

PS: I'm up to ten pages on the script. Only seven more scenes to write.

Fear of a Black Planet...

Could Public Enemy's Fear of a Black Planet be the greatest hip hop record ever? Probably not, but it damn well better be considered. God damn, it's good. I'm listening to it right now and I just want to kill whitey.

Public Enemy is one of the only hip-hop groups to include lyrics to their songs. Mostly because the songs exist for the lyrics. It's the message, not the beat that you're supposed to be listening to. And, boy, do they make me angry, but angry in a good way. The kind of angry that makes you want to go out and change the world. Maybe that's what I'll do tomorrow.

So, I worked twelve hours today. Talk about not that much fun, but work was a breeze. I didn't do anything all day. Well, I did get itchy and I did get to stare at some very attractive girls. How the factory I work at ended up with a buttload of girls I'd nail in a second, I'll never know.


Do you know what you call a dog with no legs?

Nothing. He ain't coming anyhow.

Well, one week until the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy opens and I'm pumped. I got my towel ready. You should, too.

I'm a pimp daddy, stone cold hustler...

Professor Truth J. Rockefeller is my pimp name. I have no clue what it means, probably because I'm white. Wait, let me take that back. I'm super white.

So, I've listened to the Rentals' Seven More Minutes for about the fourth time in a row now. It's such a great album. It's equal parts mellow emotional and hard balls rockin'. I think I'm going to marry it. Let's see Republicans introduce legislation banning this!

So, this is the happiest I've been in quite a long time and I'm not even happy. I'm just not depressed. Of course, I just got my copy of Orgazmo in the mail today. That movie makes me smile like the dickens.

Every time I go to certain websites, I get an ad for a free IQ test. Okay, I'm a smart guy and I have a pretty dandy IQ, but most people don't. Most people are in the 90-110. That makes sense. Those people don't want to know they are average. And what if they have a bad day and they get a score of 80? Well, they are almost retarded then and that's funny. But, most people on the internet don't want to take an IQ test. Most people don't care if they are stupid or not. The people that actually care about thier IQ already have taken an IQ test or two. I've taken quite a few, and I never cared about it until I was forced to take one because some teachers thought that I might be smart. I guess being the smartest kid in class day after day wasn't proof enough. It took them five years to think that I might be smart.

Stupid schools.

I'm glad they finally did test me, though, because I was able to start taking enrichment classes. They were awesome. You'd get out of class for two periods and you got to do neat projects or some puzzles or somehing. It was fun work. I loved it. That's why in high school when we didn't have assigned periods, I would end up going each and every period. It was great. None of the teachers knew that I was ditching every class. Probably because I never got into any sort of major trouble. Just a few missed homeworks and a few tardies. Nothing suspension worthy.

I did get a detention once for being late to school. I rode the bus and the bus was late quite a few times. That means, I didn't have a slip from home explaining why I was late. After three of those, you get a detention. No big deal. I served it. I'm a man.

Two days later I got called down to the vice-principal's office. Turns out, I never attended my detention. BULLSHIT!!! I sat there for an hour playing with clay that someone stole from the art room. I made a toilet, some turds and a dude sitting on said toilet. Why that's a vivid memory for me, I'll never know. I'm weird like that.

I'll remember very, very minute details of some event that I don't remember. Like, I won't remember a concert too well, but I'll remember being there and talking to a friend and I'll remember exactly what she said.

Is that weird?

Anyhow, it's off to script land. It's slowly coming along. Maybe I'll post it on here sometime so people can make fun of it.

My Two Scents

Either I smell like a sexy guy or I smell like ass. There's no middle ground, I guess. My bad.

Anyhow, I have three pages written for my movie. That's a lot, considering that earlier today I didn't know how to write in the script format. I also have a complete outline done. There will be nine scenes in total. All of which have something vital to the story going on in them.

Just to give no one a taste of what the movie's going to be like, in the first four lines of dialogue there is one fuck, two shits and a joke about fucking someone's mom. Take that "Guy who wrote Gone with the Wind

If you want to act in a no-budget film for no money, then start preparing yourself for casting. It's still months away, but if you are interested, let me know. I want to get this thing rolling as soon as a possible.

Anyhow, I'm off to work on page No. 4. Wish me luck.

You Asked for It!

Considering that no one reads this stupid shit, I'm going to turn this into more of a diary thing so I can remember things. More or less a way for my ever-increasingly forgetful self to look back and see that I do nothing important.

I have a plot for my short film. Finally. I just need to outline it, and that's what I'm going to do right now.

Peter loves a girl. They dated for a little bit, but she told him that she wants to be single because she enjoys the freedom, aka: she wants to be able to fuck any guy she wants. Peter "kids on the square" with her and says "Well, if you just wanna fuck, I'd be up for that." She takes it way too seriously. He doesn't know what to do.

Peter also works at a job he hates, even though it's a pretty sweet job. He's a security guard at a nuclear waste facility. He works the midnight to 6AM shift. He works it 7 days a week. He gets paid very well and he doesn't have to do anything, but he hates the monotony of it.

Peter's roommate is Mark. Mark is a slacker. He is the model slacker. He pays none of the bills and none of the rent. He scrapes by by selling drugs. Mostly pills and whatnot, but sometimes he'll sell the stronger stuff. Oddly enough, Mark stopped doing drugs 5 years earlier. He just deals now. And he only deals enough to get by. He has a girlfriend named Meghan. They fuck... ALOT!

Did I mention that Peter is a struggling writer? Not that he has problems writing or writing well. He just can't get published. That's because he hasn't sent any of his 3 books to agents or to publishers. He also has a script for one of the books. He isn't afraid of rejection or failure. He's afraid of success. It's never happened to him before. He finds solace in being a loser. It's so much easier. That's why his rejection from the girl wasn't so bad for him, even though it still sucked.

Will Peter finally get his shit together and become a writer? Will he get the girl? Will Mark ever wake up on time for a job? Will Meghan ever have an orgasm that doesn't wake up the neighbors? Will Peter's rash heal on its own? Only one way to find out. See the movie. After it's complete. After it's edited. After it's filmed. After it's writen. After I stop being lazy.

My Rap Name is: M.C. Nobulgeincrotch

I'm sick of this shit.

I feel so lonesome surrounded by friends

Am I the only guy on MySpace that isn't a GQ model? Jesus Christ. It's ri-goddamn-diculous. You see the list of friends on someone's page and you start to feel like the shit on the bottom of someone's shoe.

And then you see a picture of some guy who looks like he fell out of the ugly tree and when he hit the bottom, the ugly people beat him with ugly sticks. Or the dude's wearing a suit and he looks like someone who looked too geeky for Revenge of the Nerds VII: Talk Nerdy to Me and you start to feel better because you're laughing so goddamn hard at him. He's trying his best to look like Brad Pitt, but it ain't happening. Then I start to feel bad because I realize that he probably has a girlfriend who he bangs everynight. And while he's doing it, he's thinking about me and how big of a loser I am.

Should I get help?

Do you wanna pay for it? Yeah, I didn't think so.

You know what I hate? I hate having that feeling in the pit of your stomach that always accompanies bad news. I have it right now and I have no idea why. Well, I know why, but it won't do any good talking about it. That tends to just make it worse because I know that I have no control over it. It makes it worse because I know that there is no reason whatsoever for me to be having this feeling. And, frankly, that's depressing as hell.

Lately I've been having trouble speaking. I'll be in the middle of talking and suddenly I'll have no clue what I want to say next. I'll blank out. I won't even know what word it was that was supposed to come next.

I'm not talking about losing your train of thought. I mean, I'm speaking and midsentence, I'll just forget what words are supposed to be coming next. Then I'll start stuttering, like that will somehow help. It's quite unnerving because the only thing I have going for me is my ability to speak. If I start talking like a retard with a dick in his mouth, how can I expect to get a girl to talk to me? It's pathetic.

I've also found myself getting really light headed for no reason. Just out of nowhere, it seems like I just drank a gallon of vodka. I'll lose focus and start to wobble. Then I'll slowly come back to normal. The episodes only last for about ten seconds, but they scare the shit out of me. I've recently been to the doctor and everything is relatively okay with me. I have a feeling that my brain is fucked up. If I felt like shit all the time, I'd worry about it being cancer or something, but I feel fine. In fact, the last few months, other than the flu, I've felt better than I've ever felt. Well, atleast physically. Mentally and emotionally is a much different story.

I've never been diagnosed as being depressed. When I was really having problems and should have seen a psyciatrist, I didn't want to because I already was an outcast in school and being a "mental patient" would hardly make me any more popular. Being unpopular was part of the propblem with me, so I decided to not see a therapist. I just kind of self-diagnosed myself as being depressed. I'm sure that I wasn't because I never stayed in bed all day and I never had mood swings. I was just unhappy all the time and thought about killing myself every other minute. Not depression, but something I should have seen somebody about.

I didn't.

My mistake.

It seems like I'm starting to revert to my middle school/high school emotional state. Realizing that I'm not the most popular guy in class. Feeling insignificant. Wanting to be happy, but not being able to just snap out of it. One minute I'm happy and laughing and wanting to call up all of my friends and see how they are and just love the moment that I'm in because everything is okay. Then the next minute, I want everyone to leave me alone. I want to just go to sleep and not wake up. I want the whole world to stop. I just stare at the wall and wonder what is wrong with me, but the answer never comes and that just makes it worse.

Why can't I just be happy with what I have and strive to make the things around me that I don't like better? Why can't I just be happy? Why can't I just be not sad? I wish I knew. I really do, but sadly, I don't think I'm ever going to figure that out. It's lonely being alone, but it's even more lonely being surrounded by friends.

Montant?

That's right. I'm going to move to Montana. I'm going to live in a cabin in the woods. I'll have a gas-powered generator so I can have some electricity and what not. That way, I can take my stereo and dvd player. I'd die without music or movies. But, that's my life goal now. Save up some money and move to Montana to be a hermit. I'm not going to blow people up or try to be my own country. I'm not fucking retarded or anything. I just see no reason to stick around.

I went to Pittsburgh today. What a stupid fucking idea that was. Why do I even bother being a nice guy? It just makes me do things like wake up at 5:45AM for no fucking reason. But, what's done is done. I went to Pittsburgh and did nothing. Well, that's not completely true. I did stop by the Exchange. That place is amazing. It's a music/movies/video games store and they sell used stuff as well. So, lucky me, found a used Nirvana Box Set. Talk about finding a diamond in a turd. It cost me $18 and it was worth just for the dvd alone. I'm listening to some of the demos and what not, and I've never been so horny over something.

You have no clue what Nirvana meant to me as a loser 13 year old. Nevermind single handedly kept me from trying to kill myself for about two years. Then I tried... and failed. Don't even get me started on that one. What kind of loser tries to commit suicide and fails? Well, me.

Then In Utero came out and it saved my life for a little while longer. Then I just got too lazy to try it again. Well, there's always tomorrow.

My question is, what fucking moron sells the Nirvana Box Set? I mean, it's not something you buy unless you're a big fan, so who fucking sells it? What a fucking asshole. If I ever meet him, I'm going to strangle him with my bare fucking hands.

Last night I feel down for no reason. I was walking towards my computer and my left ankle gave out and I wiped out on top of my computer desk. Anyone laughing at that can eat a dick and I hope you die.

So, does anyone actually read this stupid shit I write or are the views I see just me checking it every fifteen minutes to see if anyone's read it? How fucking pathetic.

Where's liquor when you need it?

I don't like drinking alone, but it's a good time to learn to enjoy it.

That's a Surprise!

Hey guess what? I'm depressed. Can you believe it?

You should. Me being depressed is like just like that geyser Old Faithful. It erupts every forty-eight minutes. I get depressed every forty-eight minutes. Maybe there's some sort of connection there.

Maybe Not.

So, what's the drug of choice now a days? It used to be heroin. But, then that kind of went away. What is it now? I always wanted to start a trendy heroin habit, but could never afford it. Now that I could afford it, it's no longer trendy to do heroin. Is it Oxycontin still? Is ecstasy still a big deal? Come on America... (okay, not America, but all none of you out there) let me know what your drug of choice is and I'll start doing it.

You know what I love about breasts? Not only are they fun to look at and, from what I remember, fun to play with, they also serve a purpose. I know, they are meant to give milk to babies, but that's not why they evolved into the wonderful, out of my hand's reach shape they have taken. This is proof of evolution.

Boobies are there to simulate the female ass. When we used to walk on all fours, the female ass would get us all excited and that would in turn make us do the nasty and make some babies. Well, breast cleavage looks like ass cleavage and that's why they get us guys in the mood. That is proof of evolution if you ask me. And all I can say is thanks to the universe of the evolution of boobs. Granted, I never get to use them, but atleast they look nice.

Was that last part kind of perverted and rude to females? It was, wasn't it? Well, too fucking bad. I'm like a caged animal over here. Learn to deal with it!

Poop is the funniest word in the english language. Most people say that fart is the funniest, but they are wrong. Want to know why? When you fart, sometimes you hear a noise and smell something nasty, but alot of times, you don't hear anything and the smell ain't so bad. (Unless it's Russ, then open a window...always.) But, with poop, there's always something to see. You never get let down. Well, what if you poop and nothing comes out? Well, you didn't actually poop now did you? You tried to poop and you failed. And you know what they say about failures, right? That's right. Kill yourself!

God, I hate this. Why do I write on this? No one's reading this. I'm fucking retarded. It's Friday night at 9:50PM and i'm typing in a blog. My mom was right when she said I was the biggest fucking loser she ever met. I think I just need a girlfriend. Or a puppet show. I hardly care any more.

Why can't they see that Friday's just another night for me?

So, it's Friday and you know what that means!

It means that I'm going to be bored out of my fucking mind for the next two days. I won't even get the pleasure of sleeping in until noon. Why not? Because I never sleep that long. I'm always up at 8am. It's not fair. I get up every morning at 7am so I can drag my fat ass into work and I can't even sleep in on the weekends. I don't know why, but every Saturday morning I'm up by 8am. That is, unless, I only go to sleep at 7am. Then I might sleep until noon... if I'm lucky.

It might not be so bad if I was up all night doing something even remotely fun and exciting, but usually, on Friday nights, I sit at home watching some movie and then rewatching it with commentary on. That's right. I'm that lame.

I get asked constantly why I don't go out to the bars or something. Well, it's easy. I don't drink too often. It's a "once a month" thing at most. And when I do actually drink, I like to drink myself into oblivion. That ain't cheap at a bar. At home, it's $7 for a bottle of shitty vodka that gets me drunk just as easily as a $40 bottle. Anyhow, I don't like spending the money to get shitfaced and at the same time, have to deal with the people at the bar.

Most people at the bars, at least in this town, are all jocky frat boy types. The kind of guys that used to give me shit in high school. It's amazing that I can sit within fifty feet of them and not stab them in the throat with a pool stick, but people will still tell me to "go out and have a good time."

Don't people understand that going out means I won't have a good time? I keep saying it, but no one seems to listen. No one can understand why I can't enjoy myself at a bar. I don't like the people. I don't like the atmosphere. I don't like sitting around and having to scream so people can hear me. And I hate seeing douche bags walking around with super cute girls on their arms. It's fucking depressing.

Of course, sitting at home all weekend is equally depressing, but for different reasons. But, I'm tired of even thinking about it now. Luckily, this weekend I'll be making a short pilgrimage to Pittsburgh to see Gibby. That might raise my spirits. Maybe I'll even stay longer than I should and take a bus back. Who knows?

So, I just saw the video for the new Nine Inch Nails single. It's pretty basic, but the thing that intrigues me is that it shows a band playing the entire song. I'm hoping the whole album is playable as a band. Don't get me wrong. I love NIN and I think the albums are fantastic, but I'd like to see what Trent could do with a more stripped down sound. "The Hand That Feeds" definitely rocked, but it didn't sound computer made. It sounded almost organic. Weird. Anyway, the new album drops on May 3rd. I have a boner just thinking about it.

Two in One Day?

Yup. I'm typing some more useless jargon. This one has less of a point than the last. This is more or less just me writing random crap. Get used to it!

So, Britney Spears is all knocked up. Can I get a "Who cares?"

You know, pornography gets a bad name because it degrates women and all that jazz, but let's look at the positive things it has done. It gives me something to look forward to every night before I go to bed. It earns billions of dollars for creepy guys with ponytails and super hot, super plastic barely legal babes. But, the most important thing is that pornography has advanced technology over the last 30 years.

If it wasn't for pornography the VCR would never have caught on so fast. Once porn went to VHS, VCR's started flying off the shelves and the prices dropped dramaticly. But, that's not all porn has done. Have you heard of a thing called the internet? You can thank porno for that. Initially conceived as a way for doctors, scientist, the military, etc... to transfer information quickly, the general public wasn't really logged on until pornography websites started popping up. Once porn could be viewed without having to leave the house to rent the videos, internet subscriptions started piling up.

Pornography is a wonderful, wonderful thing. I think we all need to give a big thanks to Pornography. Hip, Hip, Hooray!!!

So, I've been viewing people's myspace pages and frankly, most of you are fucking boring! You don't write anything. You have a bunch of sexy pictures that I don't want to see because you're guys. And the girls scare me because I'm afraid they'll find out I was looking at their pictures and that might freak them out. Why I think that, I don't know.

So, I've had eight friends on this stupid page for what seems like years and it gets annoying. I mean, I go to friend's pages and see they have like seventeen quadrillion friends and I realize that most of the people on their page are people that I know, yet, they aren't in my list. How does that make me feel? Oddly enough, pathetic. Why should I care? I shouldn't, but I do. Can you dig?

Why don't you just add them as friends? Well, that's what I'm saying. Why don't I? Maybe it's because I don't want to infer a friendship that isn't really there. Maybe I'm their friend, but they don't really give two shits about me. How am I supposed to know? I could just throw caution to the wind (okay, I know that's a little OVER-dramatic, but fuck you!) and add them, but what if they don't like me. Then I've put them into a situation where they have to either reject me, which most people don't like to do, or they would have to have my stupid picture in their list of friends. Most people don't want that. How do you explain it to someone? "Oh, that's some guy from back home. He thinks I like him, so I added him. Just ignore it."

How does that conversation even start?

Why am I even typing this?

I know that I have a weird complex. It's not an inferiority complex, because I frankly think that I'm better than you. That's not me being cocky. That's me knowing who I am and knowing that I'm better than you. It doesn't mean I think you're inferior to me. That's not it. I just like who I am as a person. If I thought there were things I was lacking personality-wise, then I would make those changes, but I don't think I do. Therefore, I'm the perfect personality type. That means everyone is not as good as me. If you don't think the same way, then that means you think you lack something and you aren't the person you want to be and frankly, that's sad. You should always be your favorite person.

Now, that sounds weird considering I'm a suicidal manic-depressive, but seriously, it makes sense. I'm better than you. And I won't be offended if you think you're better than me. Does that mean you're more deserving? No. Just like I'm not more deserving than you.

So, why don't I hang out with people like myself? Because I already have myself. I enjoy hanging out with different, but similiar people. Does any of this make sense?

Anyhow, back to my lameness. I don't have an inferiority complex, but I do have a fear of rejection. But, I'm not afraid of being rejected outright. I'm afraid of the secret rejection. I'm scared of being deceived. I don't want to be told that I'm a friend, but in reality, the person can't stand me. I wouldn't mind being told flat out that I'm a loser. That doesn't bother me. I don't like the secret rejection. Dig?

So, it's weird for me to talk to friends of friends. How do I know that they like me? I don't. I know that they like a friend of mine. So, I can't go around calling them up out of the blue to hang out. That's weird. But, if they called me, I wouldn't think that's weird. Got that? The only way for me to end up being friends with a friend of a friend is to run into them unexpectedly and from that point make plans to hang out sometime.

I know it's weird. And it sucks because I have friends of friends that are super cool and would love to hang with them. Oddly enough, most of my friends of friends are super cute girls. How does that work?

Anyhow, most of these girls are girls that I would date, but that's not the point. The point it, I would also just hang out with them. But, it ain't never gonna happen. That's right, a double negative. That's how fucked up this is. I used a double negative even though I HATE double negatives. Why am I such a loser?

So, that end my sad tale of woe. I just got depressed and I now must change my little "mood" thing to something stupid.

You Are Just a Speck in a Universe of Turds

So, I got to thinking today while I was at work. Normally, I'm just thinking about how I want to blow my fucking brains out because I have to keep coming back to this horrible job, but today I thought about something else for about fifteen seconds.

I started thinking about how much of a jerk I can be and how I can really, really rub some people the wrong way. Then I started asking why that is. Might it be because I don't give a shit what anyone thinks of me? Could it possibly that I feel that if you can't take me as I am, then you aren't someone I would care to deal with? Or, maybe it's because my views on life, the universe and everything are set in stone and some people are uncomfortable with that?

For example, I'm an atheist on my better days and an agnostic on not so better days. That pretty much means that when I doubt my beliefs, then at most, I don't deny the existence of god, I merely say that I don't know one way or the other. That's something that seems to put some people off.

The Catcher in the Rye makes a good point about Catholics. Holden is talking about meeting a Catholic boy at some school he used to go to. They were talking and the kid asked Holden if he knew where the closest Catholic church was. That was the kids way of asking if Holden was Catholic or not. Anyway, Holden goes onto say that's what he hates about Catholics. They always want to know if you're Catholic because they would like you more. It's not that they'd like you less if you're not Catholic, but they would like you more if you were. Call me a moron, but it seems to be true... for the most part.

Now, are all Catholics like that? Of course not. But, it brings me to my point. People are always more comfortable talking to people who think just like they do. We all fall prey to it. From the music we like all the way to how we feel about global warming. If you're a liberal, then you like liberals more. Even if you're only talking about football, you'd enjoy talking to a liberal more than you would a conservative. Why is that?

Since I grow up in a pretty conservative area, I'm usually the person that people are uncomfortable with. I'm a bleeding heart liberal. It's simple. If there's a liberal stereotype, chances are I fit into it. But, I have found that people can tolerate that I'm for universal health care, for strict gun laws, for the seperation of church and state, for the right to choose, for higher taxes, for more social programs, etc... But, since I'm an atheist, I run into problems.

First of all, it's almost like being gay except I actually have a choice in the matter. But, like homosexuality, atheism is something that you have to keep in the closet or else you might be ostracized. It's kind of ridiculous, but it's how people are.

And that finally brings me to my final point. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of people actually caring about your beliefs. Does it really matter if you're pro-choice or pro-life? Does it really matter if you're liberal or conservative? Does it really matter if you're a devout Catholic or an atheist? Does it really matter if you like Pepsi or Coke?

Well, it does matter because Coke is shit. The rest don't matter though. What matters, other than liking Pepsi over Coke, is that your actions and not your beliefs dictate whether you are a good person or not. It's how you treat everyone around you that determines if you deserve to be treated well.

If a pro-life Catholic beats his wife, is he still a good person just because you're a pro-life Catholic? Is he better than a pro-choice atheist who volunteers at a homeless shelter? Of course not, but some pro-lifers wouldn't even listen to the pro-choice guy for the simple reason that the's pro-choice. It's retarded.

I'm a very opinionated person, but I can still get down with people who are diametrically opposed to everything I believe in, just as long as they know that our beliefs are just beliefs. Sure, there will be many disagreements about many issues, but people have to remember to seperate the issue from the individual. Luckily, I'm slowly learning that one myself. Sadly, it seems like I'm the only one. It's rather disconcerting. But, as 30footFALL once said in lyricform:

As long as you and me are here
we can change a little part of our world.
If we can't make it better
then at least we won't make it worse.

I think that's a nice little mantra to have. You are more than welcome to yours, but leave mine to me. If people could just agree to disagree, things would be much better. But, seriously, who would want that?

Invalid Subject line, you cannot leave the subject blank.

So, I'm sitting here.

Just sitting.

And waiting...

and waiting........

and waiting.............

and waiting..................................

for BritneySpears.com to load and let me in. Want proof? Check this picture out. Stuck at 68or about fifteen minutes now. This woman is worth eighteen bajillion dollars. You'd think she could afford a website that actually works. I swear, I'm going to kill her. I hate her so much, I'm not even going to rape her like I would to any other woman I plan on killing. Wait, strike that. I'm not going to kill her. If I become famous for something, I don't want to be famous for that. I mean, having my name linked with that cunt for the rest of my like just would not be cool. Becoming the "King of Rusty Trombones" has some dignity in it. Sure, you're rimmin' a guy while jerking him off, but you don't have to be ashamed about it. You can walk tall. Killing Britney Spears? I'd rather have my balls slowly disolved with boric acid.

That's right. I said it. Boric acid. Do Something!

From that picture, you can tell that I was listening to NOFX's White Trash. It's a pretty fantabulous album. Plus, you can see that I have msn messenger. Talk about an annoying program that I would normally just get rid of, but from time to time, I need it. Every time I login to my email, it opens up. Goddamn microsoft and their goddamn ruling of the world.

You might have noticed that I'm using Internet Explorer. You might be saying to yourself, or out loud if you're like me "Jym, if you hate Microsoft so much, why are you using their product?" I'm glad you asked. I use it because it's available and it works for everything. Microsoft is the QUANTITY to Linux's QUALITY.

Does it matter if I have a great car that runs on uranium if I can't get any uranium? That's my metaphor for why I don't use Linux. What percentage of products are developed for it? By what I see in stores, just under zero percent.

So, this is like my millionth flog and I still haven't spoken of my disdain of cell phones. Maybe I hate them because they are annoying, pretentious and a waste of technology. Maybe I hate them because I don't have one and that means that I, again, am not like the cool people and therefore, not as good. Society has a way of creating more ways of making someone less than cool. Or, maybe I'm right when I say that cell phones are the symbols of what's wrong with society. Everyone wants what they don't need because someone else has something they don't need. It's not like the microwave, which is something you don't need, but it makes everyone's lives better. Cell phones don't make my life better. Even if I had one, it wouldn't make my life better.

Follow me on this one.

Q:Why do I have a phone?
A:To talk to people. To get news quickly. To make plans.

Q:When do you need to make plans?
A:When there's nothing to do.

Q:Where are you at when there's nothing to do?
A:Home.

Q:Where are you when you're doing something?
A:Sometimes at home, but usually somewhere else.

Q:If you're already out, why would you need to make plans?
A:Um.... you got me on that one.

Q:Is there any reason why you would need to be reached when you aren't at home?
A:An emergency.

Q:Of every cell phone call ever received, how many have been of the "emergency" type?
A:Seven.

Q:Seven percent?
A:No. Seven. Total. Ever.

Q:So, what's the point of cell phones?
A:To show how popular you are to people you don't know who just want to enjoy the Star Wars movie where fucking Yoda fights a lightsaber battle. Goddamn you annoying people and your cell phones!!! Yoda is fighting and you just have to take a very important phone call from your boyfriend's sister's step-cousin who's asking if the movie's any good. I hate ALL of you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jesus, could anything ruin Yoda fighting a lightsaber battle? Yes. Apparently, the muzak version of Who Let the Dogs Out?

Now, did this girl (How many knew it was a girl? If you didn't, you lose a million points.) hurry up and turn off her phone? Nope. She had an entire conversation. What did she talk about? She talked about the movie and how Yoda was fighting. She had no idea that she was a moron and ruining the scene for all of us geeks. I mean, Yoda fighting with a lightsaber is a geek's wet dream realized on film. I'm not even a huge Star Wars fan and I was still wiping the precum from the tip of my tiny, flacid penis when this horrible, horrible person had to be a moron and NOT turn off her cell phone like any non-monogloid would have done. I mean, there's a warning before the movie. Plus, it's been years since cell phones were invented. You'd think people would learn some sort of etiquette, but I forgot, people are retarded.

Can you see why I have no hope at all for the human race? In fact, I have the exact opposite of hope. I have hatred and a desire to see the entire human race die out. We are the worst disease ever to be unleashed on the universe, next to ebola.

Ebola will fuck you up. Humans will ruin your life. Ebola ends it by liquifying your internal organs. Humans will just shoot you in the face. Which is more painful? I'll give you a hint. It's more painful to have your liver turn into a new flavor of margarine. Trust me.

Well, I have decided to stop with my bile for the time being. I came really close to blacking out and doing something that's probably illegal in at least 46 states. So, it's probably best that I try to calm down and fondle my sweater.

I meant, I'm going to fondue a cheddar.

Tell them Gene!

I Know I'm Funny, So Shut the Fuck Up!

That's right. I said it. I'm fucking funny. Chances are, I'm way funnier than you, so just shut up let me do my schtick. Seriously, I know that I'm funny. How do I know? I make people laugh... alot. Even if it's because I'm being retarded and I forgot what words mean, I still will make you laugh. I'm that funny. Everyone knows that I'm funnier than them, so why do they still persist in talking when I'm in the room? If you're talking, then it makes my job that much more difficult. So, here's a humble suggestion from me to you: Shut the fuck up and let me make you laugh. Unless you can actually go one on one with me and give and take the way you should, don't even try. There are very few people that can keep up with me when I'm on a roll and those people are not you. They are Gib and Russ. Everyone else is less funny than me. It's that simple. If I decide to leave the crown at home, then you are more than welcome to participate, but if I'm on and I'm killing, then please, sit down and shut up. You're just ruining it for everyone else.

Of course, I'm just kidding about all of that. I'd say that 99 percent of my friends are super funny and I usually crack up and can't talk atleast once a night with all of them. They are funny. That's why they are my friends, but still, I'm funnier than them because that's all I got going for me. I got a great sense of humor and an incredibly below average penis size. I'd gladly be a leper if I could have a huge cock. I'd give up my entire personality to be able to use it. That is my last prayer ever. If there is a god and he grants me that wish, then I will preach his word. If he doesn't give me a huge cock and the chances to use it, then fuck him.

Is that even a fair deal? A dude with no personality at all gets a huge wang and I get stuck with an inadequate love muscle. I mean, how does that work? Some douche bag gets all the chicks because his cock is the size of my arm, but I, who can make you laugh and feel good about yourself, is hung like the ebola virus. And I don't mean my weiner is the size of the ebola virus, I mean, I'm hung as if I were the ebola virus. It's a cruel, cruel world. Hence, my atheism.

So, I'm going to talk about something personal. It's not personal to me, but it's personal to a very close friend of mine. It's pretty public knowledge, but I want to be lame and talk about it for a second. My friend Russ is having some problems with his grandfather and I want to state here publicly that I think it sucks. I went thru it last year with my grandmother and I'll be going thru it sometime soon with my grandfather. It's not fun and it can really test your mental and emotion toughness. But, I'm sure that Russ will come thru it all with flying colors. He's that type of guy. He's my friend for a reason.

Speaking of my friends, I don't have many, but the few I have are truly great people. Everyone asks why I don't ever go out to bars. Well, I have a reason. I don't need to meet any more people. I have enough friends to last me quite some time. They are more dear to me than life itself and the need to meet new people seems to cheapen what I have with them. There are five types of people in the world.

1.) People I love and would die for.
2.) People that I love and would kill for.
3.) People that I know, but I wouldn't consider them friends. They are usually friends of friends.
4.) People I could care less about.
5.) People I couldn't care less about.

Let's talk about those five groups real quickly.

People I Love and Would Die For
This one is obvious. These are my close friends and family. These are the people that if they need something, I would stop whatever I'm doing and help them. No questions asked. Outside of my family, there are maybe four or five people in this circle. If you don't know if you're one of those people, then guess what, you're not.

People That I Love and Would Kill For
This is bigger group. These are the people that I care about and would do just about anything for. If any of these friends needed help, I would do anything I could as soon as possible, but it might have to wait until I get out of work that day. This is the circle that most of my friends belong in. If you've ever seen me drinking, then chances are you are a member of this group. I wouldn't die for you, but I'd come damn close.

People That I Know
If I know you and talk to you on a semi-regular basis then chances are I think you're at least a decent person. More than likely, I think you are a good person and would do my best to help you out, but I'm not going to go out of my way to do it. This group is usually made up of friends of friends. I met you through someone else and I like you, but we're not going to hang out by ourselves. That's fine. But, that doesn't mean I don't have your back if you need someone. If you have a shitty boyfriend, I'll help you realize that you should date me, but I'll have no hard feelings when you don't. If you have a stalker, I'll gladly get my ass kicked by him so you can make it home safe. If you need someone to help you move, I might just do it. Like I said, I'll do what I can to help, but don't expect me to cash out my life savings at the drop of a hat. That's something I do for the other two groups.

People I Could Care Less About.
If I don't know you, I don't care about you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you, but if it does, I'm not going to write a haiku about it. If per chance, I do know you and you're in this group, then I think you're lame and I'll feel bad if something happens to you and I might even try to help, but don't expect it.

People I Couldn't Care Less About
If you're in this group, then I know you and you're a fucking asshole. You are a bad person and you deserve all of the bad things that happen to you. This group is usually filled with people that have fucked me over or they have fucked over someone else. They are guys that beat their girlfriends. They are people who think only of themselves. They are sometimes racist, sexist, homophobes and frankly, I hope there is a god so these people can go to hell. They are the ones that deserve it. These people make life a living hell, but somehow get away with it. I hate these people and when I go crazy, you are all going down. Sometimes I include myself in this group. I've done some things in my life that I'm not proud of and when I think of those things, I add myself to the list of truly horrible people. I'm sure that some night I'll get super bummed and I'll end up talking about all of the things that make me a bad person, but not tonight. I'm in kind of a decent mood tonight. So, that will wait until tomorrow when I'm suicidal again.

Well, that's enough for now. It's way too late and I'm too boring.

Did I Mention the Rash?

So, last night I watched the remaining fifteen episodes of season four of The West Wing. That's right, I spent an entire Friday night watching a TV show that is normally on for free and I spent $40 for the dvd's of it. Am I lame?

Answer: Yes!

So, things are slowly moving forward on a short film still tentatively called "Keystone Pride." A few more scenes still have yet to write themselves, but once they do, then I tell you, we'll be cooking with oil... or is it gas? I haven't been too sure of sayings lately. I keep messing them up. I'm sure that at some point I'll start getting them right. Every dog has his best laid plans.

Has anyone ever read the book "The Tiger and the Frenchman" by Claude Balls? It's remarkable.

My computer makes a really loud buzzing/screeching noice. It's awesome. Even with some loud abrasive punk rock blaring, I can still hear it. Not to mention that loud abrasive punk rock just isn't as good as it used to be. Oh wait, it doesn't exist anymore. It's now called screamo. Talk about a sorry excuse for a musical revolution. I think bubblegum pop made a bigger impact and didn't leave quite as horrible an aftertaste as Simple Plan does. Don't even get me started on a band with three words in their name.

My Chemical Romance
Saves the Day
Get Up Kids

The list could be a hell of a lot longer, but that would mean that I have to spend time thinking up horrible bands and frankly, I'm too young to have my first aneurysm. Can you believe I just spelled aneurysm correctly? On the first try! Without even looking it up first. I did look it up afterwards to make sure, and dammit if I didn't waste my time going to dictionary.com.

The most depressing song I've ever heard is I'm Crushed by the Vandals. It's on their last album, which was lackluster. Not bad, but definitely far from their best. Anyhow, the last song on the album is the happiest sounding song ever, but it just happens to have the most depressing lyrics ever. The juxtaposition of the happy xylophone with the words about wanting to die really makes you want to kill yourself just to somehow make Warren feel a little better.

Well, I'm going to go back to jerking off to really disgustingly disturbing pornography. Or maybe I'm actually doing something important. Yeah, that could happen.

God, I need a girlfriend. Or a hooker. I'm no longer caring. How's that for horrible writing?

Nuns and Guns Bitches

So, I cashed my paycheck today. That's right, ladies. My wallet is fully stocked and ready. Of course, that means I'm going to spend it on myself, but you ladies are more than welcome to watch and be thankful that you aren't dating me.

Don't most girls do that already?

So, I've been listening to 30footFALL a lot, lately. I mean, almost a sickeningly high amount. Stalker worthy amount. They really are a great punk band. I'd say one of the best of the late 90's. Granted, they are from Texas, but some good things come out of Texas... like executing retards. But, seriously, I've been listening and reading and rereading the lyrics and I've fallen in love with the angry, yet hopeful, lyrics. They can do tons to make a guy feel not-so-shitty. Well, not really, but if any lyrics could, these would do it.

Isn't it amazing that random noise can somehow come together and make something so beautiful and at the same time loud and abrasive? And isn't it amazing that it can move someone? Not only that, but move someone else in a completely different way. Music is the greatest art form in the world. At the same time, it also contains some of the most overrated and flat out horrible nuggets of art ever. It's amazing that the sounds made by the Beatles and Bowling for Soup can both be called music. Even though the Beatles fucking sucked!!!

Oh, by the way, the word for today is: SARCASM

Fuck Bowling for Soup. I liked them better when they were called "Some Horrible Punkish-Sounding Novelty Band" Of course, back then they didn't saturate the radio with their annoying "same four chords" and oh so painful reminders of their horrible teen years. What kind of faggy band would do that shit? *cough*FAT TONY*cough*

Sorry about that. I'm still getting over a cold.

So, the short film is slowly coming to fruition. I now have two people on board to help me with it. Now all I have to do is actually write the damn thing. I think I'm going to go with Keystone Pride. The story is about a group of friends from... you guessed it... Pennsylvania. Maybe I'll also have them be White Pride assholes. Or maybe they'll just have pride in their shitty little hometown and state. The opening credits have already been written and semi-storyboarded, so that's interesting to no one.

Well, I'm going to take a shit.

Okay, I'm back. That took about 22 minutes, but none of you know that, nor do you have any idea what pain I just went through to come back here and write some lame shit that no one's going to read or care about. Well fuck you. I hope sometime you have to take a shit in the middle of something and then no one appreciates it. Then you'll see how I feel.

You can't shampoo a shampooer!

Don't Forget Your Towel

So, I've been watching the trailer for the upcoming Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy movie for the past few weeks. I've been watching it none stop. It's kind of pathetic how in love I am with a trailer, but it's goddamn funny. The best trailer I've seen since, well, the teaser trailer for the Hitchhiker's Guide movie that came out a few months ago. I've never been this psyched about a movie since the Star Wars prequels were announced and we all know how that turned out... Oh wait, I actually like them prequels. Granted, they aren't as good as the original holy trilogy, but whatever, they are still fun movies that push the whole Star Wars mythology in more or less the right direction. Wait, I just remembered. I was way more psyched about the Lord of the Rings then I was about Star Wars.

The Lord of the Rings trilogy is WAY better than the original Star Wars. Sorry Star Wars geeks. Tolkien is a better writer than Lucas. Jackson is a better director than Lucas. I'm way fatter than Lucas. Lucas loses 3-0. Do Something!

I got the West Wing Season 4 DVD's on Tuesday. Talk about a great show. Great writing, great acting, and great directing all wrapped up into 44 minutes per episode. Not to mention that Mary Louise Parker is in most of the episodes and she's hot. Plus she has a raspy, gravely voice that makes me cream my jeans. That's right, cream my jeans. Try getting that image out of your head.

I also bought Sideways on DVD. It came with a Wine Journal. I'm going to start buying super cheap wine and I'm going to start storing it and I'm going to actually use that journal. It's going to be my own little "Cheap Man's Wine Journal." It will be great. It might even turn into the beginning of a book that me and Russ wanted to write a few years back called "A Cheap Man's Guide to Wine." We were going to review cheap wines for cheap guys like us. That way, college kids can know what wine will give them the best buzz for under $10. I think it would be a great book to sell at a truck stop.

So, I just edited and uploaded about 200 pictures to some yahoo page. Talk about getting depressed. Pictures usually remind me of the good times I've had, but that inevitably leads me to realize that my life just isn't as good as it used to be and that I'll never have that much fun again. Maybe I'm just retarded, but pictures should ALWAYS make you feel better, not the other way around. Maybe that's why I threw out all of the pictures I have. Of course, I had to go and find all of them on a disc a few weeks ago and I figured I could finally make them look better and crop out all of the crap that didn't belong. It was kind of fun to actually get some use out of the Photoshop 6.0 that I didn't pay for. Definitely worth the price.

Well, I'm done for now. Sorry, no witty message.

Never Underestimate the Power of Cheese

So, I'm not angry, so this will probably be short and sweet. Well, not sweet, but it will be a lot less angry. I saw Sin City last night and boy was it violent and filled with super hot women. It was like I had a wet dream and then someone filmed it and released it. Robert Rodrigez is a personal hero of mine. He's a wonderful director as well as a good human being. There aren't too many people that I consider good human beings. If I were to make a list, I wouldn't even be on it. I know that I'm a horrible person.

If someone's made an album better than Jawbreaker's Dear You for when you're depressed, I haven't heard it. Except for maybe some Cure album. Goddamn kabuki freaks. That's right. I don't like the Cure. Do something!

So, apparently Maynard from TOOL found Jesus. That sucks. Once someone finds Jesus, their artistic ability becomes zilch. It's a fact. I mean, the dudes who wrote the Bible are horrible writers. It has no flow. It has no character development. No sense of storytelling. And don't get me started on Christian rock bands. Oh wait, the new horrible label is "Worship Rock." If there's ever been an oxymoron it's Christian rock. Those words shouldn't be in the same language.

The Flaming Lips, Propagandhi, Foo Fighters, Weezer and Nine Inch Nails are all set to release new albums in the near future. If I didn't hate life so damned much, I'd probably have a good outlook for the next few months. Luckily, for my living body, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy comes out in a few weeks. That's one reason to wake up in the morning.

Britney Spears' STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS

STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS

March 30, 2005

Dear False Tabloids,
As you read this letter, I bet you are asking yourself: Who? Who, me? Am I a false tabloid? Well, I don't know. But after this posting, I hope you are asking yourself a lot of questions. Your employees are a reflection of your magazine. Do you, Us Weekly, In Touch, Star and other desperate magazines want employees who are honest, or those who are liars? It seems to me that you'd prefer the latter. I'm really concerned about the people you hire to work at your companies. I'd like them to ask themselves the question, "What am I lying to myself about?" Is it that you are 50 pounds overweight? Is it that your children aren't making wise decisions? Or is it maybe that your husband or boyfriend is cheating on you? Until you face what is going on in your life, I guess you'll remain a false tabloid.

Britney

P.S. People Magazine is great in my book!
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Fuck you Cunt!

You used to be, and probably still are, one of those retards that reads the celebrity magazines. Ten years ago, I'm sure you creamed your jeans if you saw a magazine with a juicy story about Christian Slater or some other movie star who was popular at the time. And now you have the nerve to criticize these magazines? They made you what you are today, by the way. If you can't take the bad, then stop taking the good. If you don't want to be famous anymore, quit making horrible music. It's that simple.

I hate you. I hope I can somehow become famous so I can shit in your cereal. Or atleast show celebrities how to be famous. I mean, it's not that tough. Don't spend all of your money on worthless and pointless items like a pure gold toothbrush. You don't need it. You don't need an entourage. You don't need a driver. You don't need to be an elitist scumbag. Just be the person you were before you were famous and you wouldn't have a horrible reputation. Rumors have a horrible way of being true.

Cool New People II: Electric Boogaloo

To hell with the cool new people. Either I don't know what cool means or myspace.com has very, very low standards. Seriously, the people that are always in my little "Cool New People" box are fucking retarded. Last night there was some dude rockin' a pose with his awesome bass guitar. Granted, he was cool so he didn't even have to be playing it. He's the Britney Spears of bass playing.

And since I'm talking about Tards and their stupid pictures. Senior pictures are the funniest things EVER! At the DuBois mall, there are always displays of the local cameraman's talented senior portraits. And they are always ridiculous. I mean, they are hideous. People uglier and lamer than me try their best to spend a couple hundred dollars to look cool and let me tell ya folks, it will NEVER happen. It doesn't matter how cool your car is, you look like a dweeb when your crouching next to it. You play guitar? Well, holding your guitar in your senior picture makes you look like a special ed kid who somehow found his way into the music room. Wanna dress up in camo and have your picture taken in your hunting pose? Go right ahead and remember, I don't want fries with that. One year I remember seeing this girl's picture and she was kneeling in a field of wheat. You couldn't even see her. I mean, it was like playing Where's Waldo. Except, she was hidden amongst grain instead of people and she was fat and ugly. Now that I think of it, this might have been the only moment of intelligence in the whole picture taking process. The photographer probably thought she would look better if you couldn't see her. I think he was right.

So, the pope died. Boo-fucking-hoo. Now I can't watch tv. I can't find out anything on the news because it's pope central. They need to create a Eulogy Channel. "Celebrating dead people who had nothing to do with you all night long!" I think it's a brilliant idea. During the week, have little 30 minute segments about lesser celebrities like the dude from Dukes of Hazzard or the chick from My Sister Sam. Then, when a huge celebrity like the Pope or Scott Peterson dies, we can have an all night love fest. I love celebrities! Even when they are dead, you still get to hear about their stupid lives. I LOVE IT!!!

The problem with being an atheist or an agnostic is that you don't have some dude who leads you. I'm going to personally try to crown someone the king of atheists. He can lead us in troubling times. He can tell us some comforting lines like: "Hey, shit happens sometimes." "Life isn't fair. Atleast it's not some God who keeps piling the shit on to you." and my personal favorite "Life sucks. Get a helmet." Of course, would Fox News cover the death of a man who led the atheist movement for 25 years? Probably not. I doubt there are too many christian conservative atheists.

I just thought of something. If a liberal secularist criticizes a christian conservative, then everyone thinks he's a bad guy, but when a christian conservative criticizes a liberal, then everyone says he's standing up for his beliefs. How does that work? I think everyone has the right to believe what they want, but how does my making fun of their beliefs make me a bad guy? I don't think they are bad people when they tell me I'm going to hell. I mean, they do the same exact thing as me, but I'm a jerk? Well, I AM a jerk, but not because they say so.

Well, I just ran out of things to bitch about, so I leave you with this.

"I used to do drugs. I still do drugs, but I used to, too." - Mitch Hedberg (1968-2005)

Somebody took the time to write these lines...

So, think about what they meant! -30footFALL

Did you ever have something happen to you that kind of made your day? I don't mean something big like winning the lottery or finding a treasure map that leads to real life treasure, although, that would be fucking awesome. No, I mean, did you ever have something small and, frankly, unimportant happen to you that just made you not hate the world so much? I just did. I'm not going to talk about it because no one would understand. Let's just say that I'm not quite as depressed as I was an hour ago.

Can I get a "what-what" for antibiotics? Seriously, I'm not dying today and it's all thanks for some dude seeing mold growing on an orange and noticing that there was a spot that the mold wouldn't grow. That takes fucking genius muscles to figure that out.

This is actually the first time that I've ever taken antibiotics for a cold. Usually, I just wait it out and feel like shit for a week or so. This time, I just couldn't do it. Mostly because I missed out on a flu shot because old people needed them first. Jerks. Don't they know that I have a heart condition that I can die from if I get the flu? Well, they should. One little infection and I'm done for. That's why I'm on the antibiotics. They are in there helping my little white blood cells do their jobs. You'd think my white blood cells were mexican or something. I mean, they got so goddamned lazy and let some virus get in me and make me sick. I should fire them and hire some asian white blood cells. Good ol' asian white blood cells. If they let their body get sick, it brings a shame upon their family.

I'm so sick I can't even jerk off. I don't even feel like it. I try and try... and try, but I just don't want to. With my luck, some chick would actually want to have sex with me and I'd just stare at her and then down at my flacid unit and I wouldn't know what to do. I mean, it's like I'm an eighty year old man right now. Absolutely no drive whatsoever. I'm pathetic.

WEll, I'm done for now. But, remember, anytime someone tells you how much they love our president, remind them that he was a faggy cheerleader in college. That's right. He was a cheerleader. In college. Most people who voted for him would have kicked his ass in college. They would have called him a fag. Or they would have called him a fag. Maybe even called him a fag. Frat boys really are original.

Mitch Hedberg (1968-2005)

So, I'm sick. That's right. I'm sick. Not vomitey sick or anything. I'm not even coughey sick. I'm "feel-like-shit-and-my-voice-sounds-like-the-gay-guy-from-Mrs.-Doubfire-you-know-the guy-who-played-Robin-William's-brother" sick. If you're not sick right now, I hate you.

The pope's finally dying. Normally, I'd be happy about that, but I'm not. Could it be that I'm not quite as bitter as I used to be? Nope, not really. I still hate the pope, especially this one. I mean, how long did he sit back and let priest after priest molest little boys? I believe the answer is: YEARS!!! So, I'm glad that fucker's dying, but I'm still not happy. Why? Because I'm going to be hearing about this old, wrinkled douchebag for the next eight months. I hate the news. How about some actual news once in a while? (Michael Jackson molesting a ten year old boy isn't news. Michael Jackson releasing a hit song. That's news!)

Terri Schiavo finally died and I would be happy about it, but again, I'm going to be hearing about it on the news for the next seventeen years. The last two weeks have been the SAME EXACT reports, over and over again.

They denied the appeal!

They are appealing again!

Republicans love life!

Liberals are killing an innocent woman!

Well, the last time I checked, non-vegetables are in serious need of affordable healthcare, but luckily, those life-loving republicans are slashing funds for healthcare. Oh, how they love life when it serves them. They love life until they have to pitch in a few cents to help out. They are greedy, greedy people. They don't care about life. They care about opportune politics. Luckily, 85f the country disagreed with them. For once, being a liberal wasn't shameful.

Of course, you wouldn't know it. The news coverage was super slanted towards saving this woman's... wait, sorry, tomato's life. God, South Park is wonderful.

Anyhow, the pope's dying, some tomato died and I'm still not happy. I'm sick. And my insurance doesn't cover any medication I need. Can I get a break?

So, I got sick over Easter Weekend. Is it a coincidence? I mean, Christ supposedly died this weekend. Granted, it's a different date every year, but still, it's when he died. Does this mean that I'm like partially a messiah? I only hope so.

How did I get sick? Well, science tells me that you can't get sick from not wearing a coat in cold, rainy weather, but to hell with that. That's how I got sick, even if I know that's not the reason. If you want to stay healthy never, ever walk home from a bar at 1AM when you're depressed as hell because you saw this girl you used to have a crush on is getting married. Don't do it. Take a cab. Or pretend to pass out. Someone will take you home.

Can I blog-poetic for a moment? I don't know what that means, but I just want to say that 30footFALL is the greatest band that should not have broken up.

So, I'm working on a few scripts so I can turn them into a few short films. Tentative titles are:

You and Your Gay Movies!
Two: The Only Even Prime Number
High School Locker Romance
Keystone Pride
Talk Show

What does those titles mean? Nothing. Atleast they don't right now. Check back in like 20 years when I finally get enough motivation to type out some scripts. And, just so you know, I actually have ideas for those titles. I didn't just make them up. I swear to god.

Now I'm out of things to say.