Well, I haven’t written anything in awhile, but I just got laid off from my job, so now I have a lot more free time, which means I can now bother all you fuckers with my pointless bullshit. I expect to have some good shit for you soon. Also, I am taking some of my time to help create a mature-themed comic strip. No, it’s not cartoon porn. It’s going to be a bunch of random crap that happens when my friends and I get smashed. My buddy Caleb will be doing the artwork, and I will be writing the stories and dialogue. This should be pretty awesome; Caleb has designed some pretty kick-ass tattoos, and he has already come up with some awesome sketches. I’m really excited about it; it should be turn out really great. I’ve written a couple of scripts for it, and they revolve around one friend passing out drunk on the “L” train here in Chicago, and one where we visit a park and throw beer bottles at douchebags. Some of the stories are going to be true; some are going to be fiction. Those who really know me are going to be able to tell the difference. I’ll post some excerpts on here soon. Peace, bitches.
Unexplained absence
May 7th, 2010A Wild Night Out With Rip Torn
February 1st, 2010This is just precious. This story is one of those few gems that I have come across where, once I’ve read about it, I want to take it and lock it away in a giant vault, or bury it away in the bottom of a mine shaft so I can keep it safe forever. Here’s what happened. Actor Rip Torn, of Men In Black and Dodgeball, was arrested this weekend after being found in a bank, highly intoxicated, and in possession of a loaded revolver. Wow, that’s some wild fucking night. Now, I’m no stranger to alcohol; in fact, if I had a dollar for every time I’ve gotten drunk and done something off-the-fuck-wall, I’d be pretty damn rich right now. That being said, I never, ever, in my life, ever got the idea to strap on some fucking firepower and go manage my bank account. That is the stage of drunk you reach just before you have to grab the grass to keep from falling off the earth. So, in conclusion, I say kudos to Rip Torn. You have set the standard for drunken idiocy, and you should probably get a goddamn medal or something. I don’t want you to feel bad about wandering into a bank with a loaded gun, even though you probably should. Well, feel bad, but you should at least get a high five out of this fiasco.
Gay marriage bans actually keeping Satan at bay?
January 22nd, 2010What I’ve read in recent hours has taken my breath away. After I got through the scotch-induced haze that ruined my afternoon, I stumbled across an article regarding the gay marriage issue in California. Proposition 8, the voter-approved ban on gay marriage, has gathered numerous supporters across the state. The article assembles a few key factoids that I thought I should share with you. The first is that supporters of the gay marriage ban “insist they oppose same-sex marriage to preserve the traditional definition of heterosexual marriage, not to discriminate against the rights of gays and lesbians.” You know how much sense that makes? None. At all. I don’t know much about the supporters of Proposition 8, since I try to put as much distance between myself and ignorant crazies as I can, but I have determined that they have one hell of a comedian writing their material. Who the fuck comes up with something like that? If you translate that sentence from crazy-bullshit-political-jargon into modern English, it reads, “We don’t want to oppress you, but we’re going to do it anyway.” I think this was paraphrased from the handbook on passive-aggressive bigotry, published under the title, How To Oppress People While Disguising The Fact That You Are A Complete Tool By Pretending You Have A Boner For The Good Old Days, brought to us by Prejudiced Asshole Publishing.
I’ve heard all the arguments before, at least I thought I had. I was shocked to discover that there is a man in California, William Tam is his name, who has gone on public record as saying that legalizing gay marriage is the first step in legalizing polygamy and pedophilia. He actually likened sex between two consenting adults of the same gender to molesting a child. Who the fuck is this guy, and how long has he been off medication? Do the pod people know this guy is here? Speaking of pod people, the reason we haven’t found life on other planets is because aliens take one look at this asshole and go, “Earth? That place where everybody hates everybody for logically warped reasons? Fuck that, man. Let’s just have a kegger on Pluto. Those Earth fuckers don’t even consider Pluto a planet anymore.”
That wasn’t the most frightening argument this pillar of ignorance had to offer. He said, in open court, that lifting the ban on gay marriage would leave the state vulnerable to Satan. If that is true, then I apologize to the gay community, but you can’t get married. Your state already has its hands full with Lady Gaga, I don’t think allowing another evil goat-demon of a fallen angel to run amok would be a good idea.
You know what I think the Proposition 8 supporters should do? I think they should start calling themselves a philanthropic organization. They are already trying to masquerade under the guise of sanity, and that sure ain’t fucking working. Why not try a new approach? If they claim that they are looking out for the best interests of the gay community by saving them from the inevitable misery that marriage causes, they might actually get somewhere. Seriously, all people talk about when they speak of marriage is fucking misery. Why do gays want to sign up for that?
I don’t really get what the big deal is about this issue. Then again, I don’t get a lot of things. But of all things that are far beyond my reach, this one might just be the furthest. What confuses the few brain cells I have remaining is how these people can actually say they aren’t trying to discriminate against gays and keep a straight face. Imagine if the KKK thought of that argument during the civil rights movement. Every time I read that fucking quote, my bullshit radar lights up like a goddamn Christmas tree. In fact, when that quote is on my screen, the pungent odor of horse feces begins to emanate from my screen and offend my nostrils. Being a heterosexual, this issue does not have any influence on how I live my life. However, I don’t see how we can call ourselves a great nation when we still discriminate the way we do.
The Abominable Lady Gaga
January 20th, 2010I have reached a point where I’ve almost snapped. I’ve had it. I can’t take any more of this “Gaga Law” shit. This is a Facebook fan page for Lady Gaga (that singer who may or may not have a dick), or rather her latest “song”. The first time I saw this page, I dismissed it as the latest thing all the kids are into these days. the second time I saw it, I actually clicked the link to see what the hell it was. I have to admit, since the title was written like a mathematical equation, I thought it might actually be something cool or interesting. But I was fucking wrong, wasn’t I? I saw this abomination to internet staring me in the eye. I stared at the page, unable to remove my gaze from it. It was only after about an hour of staring at my screen (without blinking) I got the feeling that I should go smoke a cigarette. It’s probably for the best, because the ferocity of my gaze at this monument to human excrement might have caused my screen to either melt or explode if I had continued.
Just like that, it was gone. I didn’t see it for nearly a month. In retrospect, that was one of the most peaceful months of my life. But, it would not last. I started getting bombarded with requests to become a fan of this farce. I stopped counting after the first two dozen. I would like to think my friends would know me better than to suggest that to me, but apparently not. This has led me to one conclusion: Lady Gaga is some kind of goat-demon, and must be stopped.
I had the unfortunate experience of actually hearing the song this refers to recently. Good God, man. That is worse than the song about all the girls standing in the line for the bathroom. I can’t fault it for not making sense, because it is not words as I know them. It is inane blather. I don’t think that Lady Gaga is talented enough to come up with original gibberish, so I’m pretty sure she stole it from someone in a mental hospital, which I imagine she frequents. If not of her own volition, then because it’s court-ordered. If it is original, then I must congratulate all the fans of this song. You have given up hope for anything meaningful in your lives, and no longer want to actually think about anything at all. You want a song that sounds like it was written by a cheerleader strung out on heroin. This is the saddest day in pop culture’s entire miserable existence.
Where the hell did she come from, and how the fuck do we send her back there? Is is like some sort of demon-exorcism? How did we get rid of Madonna? Can we do that again? Honestly, what the fuck did the rest of us do to deserve this? This is a plague upon the land. Here are some factoids that you should consider if you think I’m overreacting:
1. When you play Lady Gaga’s music backwards, you can hear the first chapter of Dianetics by L. Ron Hubbard. If that weren’t scary enough, here’s another.
2. Every time you play a Lady Gaga song, a hungry alligator is fed. With a live puppy. So, if you like Lady Gaga’s music, you hate puppies. What kind of sick bastard hates puppies?
So, before you chuck another helpless puppy into the gaping mouth of a starving alligator, think about what you’re doing, and remember the REAL Gaga Law:
Dear Natalie Portman, I think I love you….
December 11th, 2009Dear Natalie Portman,
I recently read that you are starring in and producing a movie title, “Pride & Prejudice & Zombies”. I’m not a fan of love stories, but if you throw zombies into the mix, I am all about that shit. This might be the most awesome idea in movie history. I know it’s based on a book, but still, I fucking love the idea of bringing it to my picture-box that brain-washes and sedates me. Mmmm, mindless entertainment. It’s like electronic bacon. Besides the fact that you are insanely hot, this is one of the coolest things to come out of Hollywood in my lifetime. Natalie, I think I love you.
The Reverend
P.S. I’m not stalking you or anything like that…just thought I should clear that up before anyone gets the wrong idea.
Moving pianos and shit
November 26th, 2009I was helping a friend move a piano recently. As we tried to move the mammoth, we tilted, lifted, rolled, whatever the hell it took to get it down the stairs and out the door. Now, the piano is the most extreme object I’ve had to move, but you go through the same shit trying to get a couch through the door, or kitchen table, whatever. It occurred to me, especially when moving the piano, that moving pieces of furniture in and out of buildings is like one of those puzzles in one of the Saw movies. You know, you need to solve the puzzle or you die. Fucking ridiculous, man. Moving this piano was literally a stupid fucking puzzle that would kill us if we didn’t do it right. Especially when the anchor man was getting run over by the piano. Seriously, this poor guy was about two inches from going down with the ship and becoming a Thanksgiving pancake. Luckily, he survived, and we didn’t need to clean him up with a mop. Happy Thanksgiving, you didn’t die moving a piano.
Fuck Salad.
November 26th, 2009I recently went on a road trip. The destination is currently irrelevant. We were heading east from Chicago, along the Indiana and Ohio turnpikes. We stopped at one of their nifty rest stops along the way. You know, the ones with the eight thousand restaurants, five gift shops and optional sunroof. There was a Fazoli’s kiosk in the joint, which we decided to visit. Fazoli’s, for those of you who don’t know, is an Italian fast-food sort of joint. For their combo meal options, they had a choice of a slice of pizza or a salad. I saw the salad choice and immediately became offended. My style of cooking consists of taking cholesterol and sauteing it in trans fats. For dessert, we have a stick of butter rolled in powdered sugar and covered in hot fudge. Seriously, fuck you, and fuck your salad! The health option has been completely obliterated for me. Enough is enough. Don’t offer me a fucking salad, asshole.
The Real American Smokeout
November 19th, 2009Okay, so today is the Great American Smokeout, a day in which the American Cancer Society challenges smokers to quit for one day, in hopes that we will quit forever. Sounds to me like the person who came up with this idea probably wasn’t a smoker. Quitting smoking is hard enough without having to hear some jack-ass tell me that it’s time to quit. I will quit in my own time, thank you. I am proposing an alternative. I have noticed in recent years that the smoking population has been facing discrimination for our habit. Most people would argue that, since we choose to smoke, that it isn’t really discrimination, since we could stop if we wanted to. I call bullshit on that right now. Smoking has been banned in workplaces and on airplanes. I’m okay with that. I don’t want people to be forced to sit near me when I’m smoking if they don’t like it. That’s not what I’m trying to accomplish. Restaurants. I don’t mind when people smoke around me when I eat, but I know people do, and I’m okay with that. But dammit, they have pushed us out of bars. Bars are places that serve alcohol, and cater to a crowd of ADULTS. Adults, who have the right to leave if they don’t like the atmosphere. This is the part that makes me downright sick. Nobody goes to a bar to do anything healthy in the first place. Besides, there are usually no children in a bar (and if there are, you are in the wrong kind of bar). I am sick of being pushed outside and treated like a lesser person because of how I choose to relax.
Here is what I propose. If you are a smoker, then hand out a smoke or two to random people you see during the course of your day tomorrow. If you are a non-smoker, but agree that smokers have the same rights as anyone else in this country, do the same. Smokers, smoke a cigarette today for freedom. Non-smokers, if you are fed up with this bullshit legislation that tells bars how to run their business, sport a smoke on your ear for the day. I urge all people, not to be a prick about this, but to make others aware of this tyrannical law. This aggression should not stand, but it is. I am not trying to bring Joe Camel back; I just want a beer and a smoke again.
