I Just Wrote a Whole Entry and Lost It

It was really good too. I wouldn’t dare attempt to re-create it so I’ll just give you the main points:

  • it contained semicolons
  • there were five Kristen Bell references
  • it included a very nasty limerick about Glenn Beck
  • the first letter of every line gave the secret of KFC away
  • the middle 500 words were in Spanish and went into detail regarding the return of the gold standard
  • it ended mid-word
  • there were seven porn links sprinkled throughout the post which were hidden well
  • the entire post formed the shape of a giraffe giving birth to an albino sloth

It was truly my best work to date. Shame I didn’t save it but my motto has always been that saving is for pussies and I’d rather lose months worth of work than lose my self-respect by being all paranoid and saving shit.

THE END

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Knock Knock

Knock knock.
Who’s there?
Soda.
Soda who?
Soda guy next door told me he want’s his lawnmower back.

Knock knock.
Who’s there?
A gay prostitute.
A gay prostitute who?
A gay prostitute who will blow you for $20.

Knock knock.
Who’s there?
An ant.
An ant who?
Knock knock.
Who’s there?
A beetle.
A beetle who?
Knock knock.
Who’s there?
A moth.
A moth who?
Knock knock.
Who’s there?
A fly.
Quit bugging me or I’ll have to get my gun.

Ann Coulter is Smarter than Most of the People that Hate Her

So I’ve decided to take a stab at becoming all topical and shit and write something that’s totally happening right now and not just inside my head. It seems as though my entire country has gone completely off it’s rocker in the last couple of days all because one cartoonish super villain bent on humiliating the left wing decided to go a a speaking tour of three Canadian universities.

She's totally hiding something in those mom jeans.

She’s totally hiding something in those mom jeans.

In case you actually have a life and don’t follow this kind of nonsense the story goes as such. Coulter(a hitleresque conservative) is going on a speaking tour of three Canadian(a socialist paradise) universities(marxist recruitment institutions). She already spoke at two universities and there were the usual student protests since students really don’t have that much to do and protests are a good way to meet chicks who think they’re smart and will blow you if you’re wearing a Che Guevara t-shirt. All of this is perfectly normal in Coulter’s so only the Canadian media really gives a shit since I guess this is the first time Canada has allowed anything controversial to cross it’s borders since “Step by Step”.*

The story took a turn for the ultra-fucking-lame when University of Ottawa sent some bullshit letter to her telling her to keep her trap shut or we’ll fucking sue you. In true Canadian form we have made ourselves look ridiculous to the rest of the world by acting like a bunch of over-protective parents and not letting our citizens have their own opinions or even be exposed to other people’s opinions. So of course our dear Ann rolled with it and said that the letter was unfair and that she was going to file a human rights complaint. The Ottawa speech ended up being cancelled due to a retarded amount of butthurt protesters threatening violence and acting like a bunch of college students.

Let’s hear it for free speech Canada!

However I don’t want to get too political here since that’s really not the point of me writing this post. The real point is that you’re all super-uber fucking retarded if you believe for a second that Ann Coulter is anything but an attention starved IRL troll.

When someone makes a comment on youtube along the lines of “ALL N**GERZ SHUD EB KILLLD LOLONE!!” is your first response to yell at them? Do you try to have a rational discussion with them in order that perhaps they will see the light and realize how many important roles black people play in every industry that make our lives richer? Do you tell them that it’s unfair to think of people based on broad generalizations and that race in fact doesn’t even exist? Of course not you ignore them and move on, or conversely watch the other sub-humans argue with each other while you sit back laughing and jerking off furiously at all the chaos.

Trolls like Coulter NEED to be taken seriously in order for their schtick to work. The people who actually enjoy her and agree with her opinions are like wrestling fans who even though they’ve been told that it’s fake still have some belief in the magic of two scantily clad muscle men pinning each other to the ground in a fight against the terrorists or something. In fact there is probably a lot of overlap between the two groups.

Those who think she’s looking to restore the third reich(fourth reich?) are dumber than anyone previously mentioned. These are the kind of people who think that Sacha Baron Cohen is a racist for talking about jews in “Borat”. SHE’S TRYING TO BE FUNNY AND RILE YOU UP! Seems to be working for her too. Personally I find her “jokes” pretty amateurish and derivative but I have to give her credit for the character she’s created for herself.

Rush Limbaugh, Bill O’Reilly, Glen Beck and Coulter are ENTERTAINERS. Their main concern is with getting an audience and making shitloads of money off of dumb people. Of course some of the really dumb ones take them a bit too seriously and end up yelling racial slurs at senators and causing other trouble but I have a feeling that these are the minority. These people will not listen to reason so why bother arguing with them? Even if it isn’t an act giving all of this attention to a handful of right-wing puppets does more for their cause than just ignoring them.

Let the trolls be trolls and just stop feeding them. You’re all looking like a bunch of party poopers.

I’m done with topical posts. This kind of writing really brings me down. Next time I’ll just talk about motor oil for a few hours and hit submit.

* On a hotter note I happened upon Christine Lakin’s twitter yesterday. She was the girl who played Al on Step by Step and was kind of a cute tomboy on the show. Boy has she grown up! I will probably start trying to contact her obsessively over the next few weeks to see if she can introduce me to Patrick Duffy.

Don’t Pay the Ferryman

The song has been stuck in my head for the last three days. It’s fucking haunting me. I’ve even tried that old trick of listening to it repeatedly in an effort to overstimulate my brain and cause it to shut down and wipe the song forever from my memory.

All this must end.

Whenever I have a problem I always think of some words I heard in a commercial once: find the source of the distress and murder it. Here’s the source of my misfortune when he was in Iran or something.

Obviously a terrorist.

Obviously a terrorist.

Did you know that Chris de Burgh isn’t even his real name? He also claims to be English but was born in Argentina and now lives in Ireland. Did you know that Argentina was actually at war with England in like the 60’s or something? I think Chris or at least his family had something to do with that. Probably acting as a double agent and fucking over whoever he could just for kicks.  This is further proven by the fact that now he lives in Ireland which is a country where(if my facts are correct) they blow up children inside of churches for fun and profit.

Of course this information came to me rather easy so you could imagine what type of secrets this guy keeps to himself! If anything my 14 minutes of studying everything about Chris today has shown me that he is not a man to be trifled with. I’d be willing to bet that “Lady in Red” refers to the time where he murdered a bride on her wedding night and then starting dancing around and making fuck with her corpse(you know because the dress was stained with blood or something).

I’m calling you out Chris. Most people on this earth are too afraid of your wound-fucking, child exploding ass to take you on but I know better. I know that deep inside you’re a scared little girl who gets by by instilling fear into those who would oppose you(which is why you blow up children since if they were to gang up on you your sweet crooning ass would be torn up worse than my face after that really terrible case on acne I had last week. Seriously that shit can hurt when there’s enough on you). But I’m not afraid at all especially since the whole world is counting on me.

Consider yourself challenged Chris. I will meet you on whatever terms you wish provided you can arrange transportation and a marble statue of Christopher Reeve(I collect them, so far I only have one but you have to start somewhere). Once I see that you’ve been defeated my mind will be at peace and if you weren’t dead I’d even want to jam with you or something but since you will die by my hand I guess I’ll just have to party with your corpse or something.

I look forward to hearing back from you.

A Tribute to the Greatest Movie Ever Made

I was reading through the list of the top 250 films of all time as voted by IMDB users. The list itself proved to me once again that not only are IMDB users some of the most retarded and juvenile people in the history of the internet but are also prejudiced against movies featuring a former cast member of Cheers and Bill Maher. Of course the whole idea of these lists is just a cheap ploy to drum up traffic and conversation about how shitty the list is itself. Therefore I will not speak of this anymore and instead will try to expose you to what in my never humble opinion is the greatest piece of filmmaking that I own on VHS.

Those who already know me personally should already know that I’m speaking of Ethan Wiley’s 1987 masterpiece, House II: The Second Story.

Much like The Godfather Part II and Babe: Pig in the City(aka The Godfather Part II of talking pig movies), House II takes the premise of the original and makes it better by having a clearer narrative and no constraints in regards to setting up the style of the film as the first movie had already established it’s premises. In fact it’s really the simplicity of House II that allows the viewer to get sucked right into the story and feeling as out of control as the characters on screen. Also as the sequel to a successful movie it can afford to take more risks.

Take for example the inclusion of a 170 year-old mummy from the old west. Traditionally mummies have been typecast into movies about Egypt and/or starring Brendan Fraser. Ideas like this only support the claim that the writer’s balls were so massive at the time he came up with it that he was confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Not only is the western mummy fantastic at providing some much needed comic relief as counterpoint to the sombre, distressing tone of the rest of the movie but he also is an integral part of the plot and provides a vessel for the audience’s sympathy. Truly this movie could not even exist without him and Royal Dano(RIP) turns out what should be remembered as a career defining performance which the academy so rudely snubbed.

As the first film was a scathing criticism of post-Vietnam America it’s refreshing that the filmmakers in this instance decided on a more universal message of respecting the past. From the above mentioned mummy to the prehistoric puppet-bird the viewer is tricked into think more about their own place in the timeline of history as well as what their future grandchildren may have to do to fix the problems they created by not killing the other dead western guy when they had the chance. This film asks us to look forwards and backwards to assess the context of our present day actions.

Rather than give more of the movie away I invite you all to give it a shot and watch it. I was able to get my own VHS of it for $5 about ten years ago at some record store closing sale. Also most fine retailers should have it lying around somewhere. I’m actually part of a petition to have the movie released by Criterion so I can download from someone who feels like ripping it.

Just watch it already. You will be thankful.

Lunchtime Limericks

Hank was an angry Baboon.
His ass was a shade of maroon.
One day in a tree
he decided to pee
on a beetle that played the bassoon.

Sally was chillin’ with Jack.
In a back alley smoking some crack.
She burnt her top lip
when the lighter had slipped,
and thought maybe it’s time to cut back.

There once was a man from Brasilia,
who collected Nazi memorabilia.
He tripped on a toy
and fell into a boy.
Discovering his own pedophilia.

Sorry thats the best I could do in 7 minutes.

Club Soda (a Poem)

Mouth.
Dry,
parched and 
unstimulated.

Not a cold 
can to be found, nor
a warm one.
To be chilled.

Sodium, water, See?
Oh too much
time spent wanting
a way 
to clear it.

Untouched by taste,
pure and 
cool.
Comfort in the shape
of cylinder.

s/Anxiety/Caffeine.
s/Boredom/Depression.
s/Pengiun/Salad.
Break.

The dry 
taste
of the north.
Once proud,
absent now.

maybe it will be 
Here
Tomorrow.

Shorts > Pants

Man was never meant to cover his legs completely. I feel very restricted covering my calves in thick cloth and so should all of you unless you’re really fat or have really skinny chicken legs in which case you should totally be covering up all the time just to keep me from having to look at your ugly ass.

For some reason shorts have a bad rep. I for one am lucky enough to have a job that doesn’t care too much about how I look as long as I maintain the appearance of at least a class 3 hobo. It’s honestly one of the things keeping me here in the warm months when I could be waterskiing or throwing balls of wet newspaper at skateboarding teenagers. What bothers me the most is that I’m in the minority and most men are forced into ball-sweat inducing pants making it necessary to keep office buildings as cold as fucking possible in the middle of the summer.

Don’t get  me wrong here I love air-conditioning and wish upon all the gods that my apartment had central air but keeping office buildings at 20 degrees is a bit excessive even for me. I’m not some hacky-sack playing liberal arts dropout but I think that a lot of the worlds energy problems could be solved if people just got over their anti-short agenda and let everyone dress appropriately for the weather. Sadly I think that a lot of people will have to die off before society can get over this bullshit and frankly I don’t have time to wait around for it because it seems to be taking forever and those goddamned baby-boomers just keep on living and controlling shit even though they’ve shown themselves to be completely irrelevant and downright pathetic as a group.

My point in all of this is that warm weather is now coming my way in this city that I live in and I’m getting really excited to not have to wear pants. I dream of one day moving somewhere hot enough that I don’t even need to keep pants in my closet but until then I’m going to enjoy every cool breeze that hits my balls in just the right way until October.

My calves are excited.

Crowdsourcing My Creativity

So I put the call out to the massive hive mind that is twitter(you may have heard of it) to give me some ideas regarding what I should write about. Since this blog really has no direction or content I figure it’d be the best way to at least kill some time without having to look at a bunch of penises. Since nobody famous replied to me about this I’m going to go with the first three suggestions that were given to me. Who knows I may even start doing this regularly so I can fill my mundane life with something other than email stalking Kristen Bell.*

So now that I’ve mentioned Kristen Bell at least once I’ll get on with the suggestions in the order that I felt like writing them in.

write about the Brian Williams summit. 

Luckily this suggestion came with a youtube clip otherwise I would have no clue what this was about. I originally wanted to embed that clip in this post but since some dickbrain won’t allow me to embed I’m not really interested in talking about it. All I can figure out from watching 30 seconds of it on mute is that there are two men in the world with the same name who happen to be newscasters and this is somehow relevant to my interests.

Nobody under the age of 60 watches television news anyway so I’m pretty sure if you’re reading this you don’t care about it either so now we come to the next topic.

social media – friend or foe?

Foe.
  

I would like you to write about how I got this scar, and why I make up a lie whenever anyone asks me. Also, include a car chase.

Finally something I can write about that involves no facts or opinions that could make me look dumb in the future. 

In order to understand the scar we must first understand the society which created the circumstances that led to the scar.After a few thousand years of ruling the earth man has fallen prey to a dangerous virus which can only be treated by hourly injections of botox in the eyebrows. Needless to say this caused problems for many as they were unable to afford the botox or they forgot to carry it around with them at all times.

Thus began the Botulinum wars.

Part 3: The Desert Sun
CB was getting over the worst headache he’d had all day. The sun was just above his head as he was flying down the freeway 50 miles outside of Reno. What was once the biggest little city in the world had turned into a fortified city-state which embodied all the greed and callousness of it’s former occupation as a hub for those to cheap to bother with Vegas. The plague had not hit here as hard as other places since most of the cocktail waitresses and women of the night were already well stocked up on botox before patient zero walked out of that plane in Cancun.

But they still had to scavenge like everyone else.

CB had made a nice living for himself in these times. A disgraced navy seal who spent the last thirty years hauling dried pasta and canned asparagus across the continent. When the first reports of the sickness were coming in he was in the middle of Arizona with a full load on it’s way to Miami. He’d stopped out in the desert and awaited further news. Two weeks he spent living off the tins of tomatoes in his trailer. Once they announced  that the cure was that shot of botox he decided to break into the lab in Phoenix and cart out as much of the stuff he could find. Since the entire city was wiped out by the virus already he didn’t have much trouble.

That was his first major score and he’d had at least 20 since then. Now on his way into Reno where the buyer was meeting him he was feeling a bit more anxious than usual. Raiders traveled all over these highways looking for shipments of just about anything. The police and the military had disbanded and there were no more producers. Humanity had become a species of scavengers and a man would slit your throat for a bag of BBQ peanuts. He’d managed to stay clear of most of the looters on his travels but this stretch was a bit too quiet for his liking.

He saw a pickup truck approach behind him. Through the dust he could count three, no make that four men with what appeared to be rifles, sticks or shotguns. They were still too far back to tell for sure. CB knew that his truck would have no chance of outrunning them so he slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road.

The strange truck pulled up next to him and front the front passenger window a small, elfish man with red hair and thin wrists pointed his shotgun at CB and asked what he had in the truck.

“Just an empty load here boss.”

“Bullshit. Nobody drives with an empty load nowadays.” said the ginger elf.

“I got robbed back in Utah. Bout 50 Mormons came charging in their special underwear and tied me to the roof of my cab. Cut my cheek up something fierce.”

Elf-man wasn’t impressed with this explanation and hit CB in the head with the butt of his shotgun. “We’ll just have a look for ourselves.” He dragged CB from the cab and took him to the back of the trailer.

“Open it.”

CB obliged and up came the door revealing a full trailer of shrink-wrapped Botox. As the elf and his partner beside him stared in awe CB broke out his nunchucks and totally went Bruce Lee on their asses. He then threw a ninja star at the wheel on the Raiders truck and then totally flipped over and broke the driver’s neck. He ran back into his cab and bumped his head on the door which was going to leave a scar but he wasn’t going to tell anyone that since it’s kind of a shitty story.

Once he sped away he knew that it would only be a matter of time until the Elf and his buddy came to and would start chasing him so he went as fast as he could towards the heavily fortified walls of Reno. Just five miles outside of the city he saw the truck in his rearview mirror and this time they were shooting. He swerved back and forth to block them but they kept on his tail. Just then CB’s old friend from the navy totally jumped out of this helicopter with a bazooka and blew up the elf guy’s truck.

Shit was everywhere.

The End.

*Looking at her twitter I just found out that she’s a fan of “The Room” which makes me want to stalk her even more if that’s possible.

I have to leave in 15 minutes

Yes the internet is boring me so much today that I feel the need to actually write something for myself just to keep myself from becoming the inspiration for a new horror genre. Not really much work to do and I can’t really get started on anything now so this is all I got. 

Let’s see what I can do with my time.

So what’s the deal with white noise? I have probably one of the noisiest desks in this whole office. All day I can hear wind currents going through the building. Thankfully due to the awesome power of the human brain most of the time I filter it out. Until of course someone has to come by and mention it to me which allows me to hear it and nothing else for the next 20 minutes. In case you were wondering I can hear it right now since I decided to stupidly write about it so if my thoughts seem unclear just chalk it up to the noise and not my own stupidity.

In fact just read everything I write with that kind of mindset from now on.

This bottle of purell is nearing the end and won’t pump properly. There still a large amount left that could be used but I don’t know how much I can get out of it. Might try to do that thing that restaurants do with the ketchup and pour it into another bottle but that would feel like cheating. I shouldn’t be using it that much anyway but I take public transit and can’t help but feel really dirty all the time.

That last paragraph made me try to pump some out since I was thinking about dirty door handles. Got mostly air so I’m feeling kinda cheated. Don’t really have any time to fix the problem though so I’ll just carry on.

My right arm is feeling numb. Could be the position my arms are in when typing on a laptop. Also I have bad circulation so it could just be that. I can barely cross my legs for 5 minutes without one of them falling asleep. Luckily as a heterosexual male I don’t cross my legs that often so this has not been much of a problem in my life.

Leaving in two minutes. Fuck  I type slow. You’d figure after spending 12 hours a day in front of a computer I’d have figured this shit out by now. Oh well no matter, I’m out.