Hulk Smash

Right. They use microwaves to grow hair on random monkeys in Sudan. Desmond Dekker wore pigtails when he invented the dance floor. I found seven words rhyming with orange. Jesus walks his dog with Bret Favre and Gordy Howe, while Saint Peter and Achilles watch Monday Night Football. Fuck all this.
Gap has a brilliant new marketing strategy out. It seems that if I were to spend 60 bucks I get a free CD featuring the favorite song of a bunch of musicians I have no knowledge of or wish I did. I care so much what Alanis Morissette listens to. What the fuck? Fuck gap. Fuck them up their stupid asses. A better marketing strategy would be to make nice clothes without the word, "GAP" stitched all over it. See. Simple. That's how I roll. Make better shit and I will buy it. I wonder when the decision was made to stop making good shit and start giving conciliatory efforts to the whimsical desires of 11-year-old girls.
We all get sore and tired. We must drive on. We must continue to serve, help and fight. We must buy Yossarian a lot of shit. Someone should send me money for my deductible in order for me to get my car fixed. I also need the following items, rims, this dope assed leather jacket I seen the other day, a TV and some fine assed bitches to serve me not with a cherry on top.
I am secretly half in love, just so you know, and it’s with a woman I've never met.
I sit here and wonder where I will be in like five years. I hope I have a stereo at this point of my life.
Damn, that's hot.
I built this house with my own hands. I built this staircase with wood, nails and a hammer. I was buck-naked. I wore sawdust to hide my shame. I'd like to spend some time with you, pulling splinters from my toes with your teeth. I left that stair loose so it will creak and let me know what time you come home. You strumpet.

An Obsolete Vernacular

Right. Dry humping is the biggest waste of time ever. Maybe I'm old fashioned but when a girl comes over at three in the morning it ought to be for sex. I'm older than 14 thank you. Let's commence the boning.
Someone searched for, "Son of Apollo that wrecked his car," and he got yours truly. Weird. People from the Middle East also tend to visit my blog by searching for a wide array of searches involving the following words: fuck, children, horses, crank, swallow and porn. Strange.
I was thinking about how it must really suck to be one of those Indian guys who train elephants. You know about those guys? They are really into elephants. It's weird. Then the elephants get something like roid rage, only without steroids, and beat ass. It's entertaining to watch while I sit in the air conditioning in my room rather than hot assed India.
I sometimes just look at her picture for hours.
I want to move back to Boston. I miss that shit.
Fuck beans.
This daft twat I am in school with right now was a psychology major in college and decide to analyze me. While I would like to analize his girlfriend, but alas he seems to think I am crazy. He asked me ten random questions and determined that I am insane. The questions were stupid and the answers were honest but nowhere near crazy.
What's your favorite animal? The Hyena
What's your favorite fruit? Peaches
What's your favorite color? Black
What's your favorite season? Fall
What's your favorite sport? Hockey
If you could be anyone else who would it be? Thor
Elvis or Beetles? Elvis
Straight porn or lesbian? Cum shots and squirters, hopefully with some hermaphrodites
Democrat or Republican? Whig
Was Jesus a real man? About as real as Caesar
How the fuck does me liking peaches make me crazy?

We Don't Call Him Big Brother

Right. I have to fucking piss. Why people even bother to fuck with me is beyond my comprehension level. Fuck. I died again. Cedric Benson signed, not that you care. I am of the opinion that blue skies will darken, grass will burn from the heat and the castor beans you have growing in your backyard will poison us all. I believe that one day you will find out where Amelia Earhart went, and it won't be as romantic as you thought. I know you will find out who shot JFK, and it was one guy who died shortly thereafter. We all know Elvis did in fact die, unfortunately. One day we might find out the Greeks were right about a great many thing. Mountains have crumbled before and oceans were poisoned. Angels have lived among us and demons walk with us. No matter how healthy we are, we still die. Y2K wasn’t all that big of a joke. The Roman Library, we have all the knowledge. Kurt hated his wife. Brutus indeed. Knowledge isn't power. Poverty corrupts more and to a greater degree than power, but sometimes the powerful are already corrupted. The NBA is in fact a conspiracy to raise the black man's average income level.
I love my job.
God of War is still great. In case you were wondering.
I continue to amaze.
I wish someone would think about what he or she is doing. Tread lightly. Sharks patrol these waters. Animals disguise themselves as humans, you aren't distinguished enough to tell the difference.
I don't get it. How can I make that jump?
My dick hurts.
I know a girl who makes me want to punch her in the face because she shouldn't look that good.

Great Odin's Raven

Right. I think that everyone who knows me would describe me as even-tempered and easy-going. I think it's fair to say that I rarely react rashly. I also think it's obvious that things seldom bother me. All that changed Saturday night.
I park my car on a street and enter a bar. Nothing new. I do this from time to time. I exit the bar around closing time and walk to my car. I enter my car and something is different. I can't use my driver’s side mirror. Hmmm? This is interesting. I think to myself, "It's probably because my tint is so dark and maybe a street light is out or something." I roll my window down. No mirror. Gone.
I open my car door and take a look around. It appears someone thought it acceptable to scrape the side of my car removing most of my paint and my mirror. I devise a plan.
I think of myself as an admirable man. I look for challenges and overcome them. I now have a new challenge. I now must hit the streets Punisher style and find this dickless fuck and ruin his life. Punisher style. My plan is as follows. I hit the streets with an alias of Casey McDustrell. But my friends call me Lurch. I enter certain circles of scum and cretins. I befriend them and earn a rep. You know, street cred. I find the shit ass that hit my car. I knock him out and drag his ass into his car. I drive to an abandoned hospital I know of and duct tape him to the floor. For good measure I cut his fingers off with a rusty steak knife. I close his wounds by burning them closed with homemade napalm. Equal parts of gasoline and Styrofoam. I leave for a bit and secure some medical equipment. I return and hook him up to machines, which will keep him alive. It is now when I begin to display what happens when you fuck a stranger in the ass.
I will remove his eyelids with tweezers and cigarettes. I remove the tape from his mouth on account of my desire to hear his screams. I will then show him before and after photographs of my car, and explain that while I was standing in a swamp ten feet from an alligator the only thing that kept me from quitting was the thought of buying this car. I will then leave again and find his mother, or children if he has any. I will then proceed to skin them alive in front of him. I will leave him alive with the blood of his family seeping into his wounds for a couple of days. I will then cut a seven-inch incision into his stomach. I will insert a weed-whacker into this opening and turn it on, shredding his insides and watch him die.
I doubt anyone would find me guilty, as this clearly isn't premeditated.

What It Is That I

Right. Sometimes I don't mind at all. But then I want to go Paul Cavallini on that ass and beat you till you bleed, and then smear your blood across the glass while it drips on the ice and thousand of people cheer.
I have a fantasy draft Saturday. Hooray Fantasy football.
God of War is the most fun I have had in the first two hours of a video game ever. I am enjoying this greatly. You should play this shit. And by You I mean you.
The best commercials going are for Levi Brand Jeans. Why? I am all about putting my jeans above women. No offense, but that's how I roll.
The New York Football Giants.
Give me ten grand or two tens, I'll spend it all on my friends.
Buried.
I don't really feel this. I am trying too hard. It needs to flow. I'd like some help.
Do you feel that though? I am doing it as hard as I can.
Someday she won't let me act like I don't care.
This girl is crazy man. I mean hard to read. Usually I don't care to read because usually I could either care less or it's not a challenge, but this girl's all over the place. I would like to date her all over her face and proceed to love her down her throat, but honestly, she seems like someone whom I might want to talk with. I think it's clear I need more beer.

Exact Space

Right. Is it all too real for you? Because I'll be very honest with you, it is for me. Where should we start today? I suppose it is dependant upon where we intend to end. Where is that? Hopefully it's in my pants. Let's find out.
I don't think I would mind if every song ever recorded was Darling Nicky by Prince. I love that fucking jam.
I plan on moving some goal posts this Friday, if you know what I'm saying.
XTX wrote a really amazing post directed towards me yesterday, so go check it out. I left a creepy response, so feel free to check that out too. In my defense, I drink for lunch and dinner.
Woodwork people, woodwork.
Ain't shit really going on. Dios mi oh man.
I feel like I am just recycling this shit. Seriously. I feel like my head has been crushed and its contents rearranged, placed back and I have all the same shit but in different places. It's all fucked up. But I feel no pain this way, so I will never complain. Even though I think she did it on purpose. But I can't remember why.
I wish it would open up and rain. Rain like it’s never rained before. Flood this fucking world and make Noah look like a fly fisherman. But the truth of the matter is, all the rain, Evian or sparkling spring waters that ever flowed could never wash this place clean. It will never glow as new.

Shakespeare's Dead Don't Even Think About Him

Right. K-Luv is back at it so go check him out and bask in his glory, for he is glorious, as glorious as the most magnificent rainbow. Read his first post. It will solve a lot of the problems in the world. In other shit you ought to do, go see Four Brothers. That movie makes me feel as good as when I shove a bunch of Jell-O down my pants.
I bought a candle today. Now my apartment smells of Pumpkin Spice goodness. Hooray olfactory senses.
I wish I had more beer. Someone email it to me. NOW!
Today was shitty. Not that you care and not that I don’t. But it was shitty. But old girl looked good and laughed at my lame jokes about whatever in the hell I was blathering on about. It was nice, but other than that, I just wanted to sit in my bed, eat tomato soup, play video games and read all day long. But I want to do that for the rest of my life so send me money to enable me to do so.
I was over there once and what they say of the grass on the other side is true. But while I am here all I can tell you is; it is a bitch to keep it this green.
I mean why do we do these things? I couldn't fucking tell you. Honestly. What the ever-loving fuck?
Red and blue Tuinal, lipstick-red Seconals.
I am fucking thirsty.
You know what is real fun? It is real fun to go to dating websites and try to hook up your old roommate. Then give out personal information like email addresses and cell phone numbers. It's especially funny when your old roommate is married.

G-L-O-R-I-A

Right. She sings to me at night like a drug dealer skulking in the shadows. I beg her as her voice fades to never stop singing. But she laughs at my request with disdain. I don't matter to her. I wouldn't have it any other way. It's beautiful now. Peaceful.
Part of my OBC is leading people. To evaluate this, the Army brings in a bunch of privates and we get to lead them as if they were our platoon. We are then critiqued on how we do. I should note that 98% of the privates are good honest people who really want to do well in the Army. But then there are those... They just... I mean it's like... They have an ability to keep you from finishing sentences.
One such is my man private Booth. Now clearly Booth is not his real name. But Booth is wild man. He has a contest with a friend of his on who can spend their paycheck the fastest. So by day three they are both broke. One of their tactics include taking a cab for the two-hour ride to St. Louis. Brilliant. Well my man Booth here is also married. And he is very open about cheating on her. She too, cheats at will on him. It's a nice thing they have together. I had to go to his house the other day to inspect his shit and see how he's living. In a word: splendidly. He has no furniture. Not even a bed. Well he has two soiled mattresses on some cinder blocks, but that's about it. He has no car and a giant dog.
Booth also has the most expensive computer in the world. He uses this computer for one sole purpose. This purpose is to broadcast him fucking random fat women on the Internet. Wonderful. He has a giant 82nd Airborne flag on his wall behind his bed. He wears his Army boots and makes the women sing the Army song whilst he commences to boning them doggy style. Superb. Meanwhile I would kill for a hand job and some Gatorade and he gets women to go for this shit.
Another thing my man here likes to do is scheme. He always has some get rich quick schemes he is proposing. Now I am all about making a buck. Do what you gotta do. So last week the MP's show up to my class and ask to speak with me as he said I was his LT because he likes me. Seems Booth thought it a good idea to breed, raise and sell gerbils. There was a neighborhood complaint so the MP's investigate. In his garage, Booth has 300 cages filled with gerbils. He's been at this in secret for a while. The MP's inform me and I subsequently inform him that one would need a permit to do such things. Booth then decides it isn't worth it and decides to get rid of the gerbils. How would you do it? Donate them to a zoo? Give them to children? Give them to a pet store? Not my man. Nope. He lets them all loose in the neighborhood. There is a huge infestation problem. I love this kid.

Lovers Never Asking Why

Right. Where do I go from here? I have no fucking clue. Not one iota of an idea. I am so nervous right now and I have no clue as to why. I mean. I just did some shit that I know how to do. I know it. It's easy. I could do it in my sleep. Yet I think I just dicked it all up. The ramifications of my dicking it up are harsh. So I drink for lunch. We get a 3-hour lunch today so I should be nice and fucked up for the remainder of the day, and hopefully weekend.
Where is she? I wish I knew.
So I order some shit at Amazon the other day and I want the free shipping because I am cheap. It says it will ship 3-5 days later than a normal order. The same day my order is shipped. So if I order something and pay for shipping, will that mean that it will arrive before I order?
Leave it alone.
I love Fat Jon so much it makes my ass bleed.
XTX is the greatest and best blogger in the history of greatest and best blogging. If I knew how to hyper link shit I would hyper link her shit everyday. But also no one really reads this, so it seems useless. But go click Tracy Shit and read until your mind sprouts reproductive glands and your brain jazzes the best tasting and feeling cum ever all over your insides. That is how I make it day to day.
Some more shit you might want to check out is Blush. She is as pretty as a 5-dollar bill.
If my life were set to music, I'd bet there wouldn’t be any panties being thrown on the stage.
We will wait forever for the young Marines.
I hope if we ever have a class war, math gets its ass kicked.
I will die on an island and I will catch water in a net.

Tarzan Of The Eighties

Right. We can burn it together if you would like. We could take the memory of your traumatic (or is it dramatic?) high school years and burn the memory away. We can even take your old prom dress and burn it. Piss on it. Put it in our soup and shit it out later. I would do all this for you. But it is mainly for me, as I have always wanted to eat a dress. And a prom dress is fancy, and I like fancy food.
I think I am going to give up trying to find the best song ever. Because I think it is rather evident that it is, Clarinet Concerto in A Major, by one Mozart. I haven't heard of him before, but apparently he did some shit a while ago. Judging by the quality, I'd say he also composed Footloose.
Where would I look if I wanted to find some serious shit? Like some wonderful type shit. I don't even know what I am looking for. But I know I want to find it.
I was thinking today about some shit I thought I might share with you now. The idea of sharing it with you is not the idea, I actually just thought of that. I mean I just thought to share it with you, not my what I was thinking earlier. I mean I was thinking of what I was thinking about earlier, but it wasn't the point of the subject. I just recently was thinking about what I was thinking about earlier and then I thought to share it with you. I apologize I didn't think the later thought until later. But I did recently think of it, but I assure you it is not because you are a second-class citizen. It is because I am unthoughtful and a jerk toward you.
Anyway, what I was thinking was, wouldn't it be really cool like if blogging were like the mall? And like all of our blogs represented the stores or people in said mall. But then I thought that my blog would be the Hallmark store because it is mostly useless and vacant. I hate that fucking store. That and Yankee Candle both eat it.

Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain

Right. I want to wake up naked, next to her. Kissing the curve in her clavicle. That is the dream, because I couldn’t imagine anything more pleasant and peaceful. Pretty.
I saw this shit last night. No I didn't. I won't lie to you. I saw nothing. Except for some porno and the inside of my eyelids. But beauty is everywhere and I am here, and I have seen her less than I desire but more than I deserve.
I don't want to do shit with my life. Honestly. But where would I go?
I feel sorry for the VCR. It was once the bomb, but now is pushed aside like yesterday's beef.
You know that all the shit I hate is because I love so much that it hurts? You know that don't you? I abide by my love and try, but it hurts so much because people are so much better than they believe. But she leaves the light on. He still leaves hair on the soap. They both order the same meals at the same restaurants and everyone else is too busy to notice. I just try to make it right. But I am fallible as I am, despite my inner voice, mortal.
Everywhere looks the same. These people act the same. Parody. Same tracks are played at the club here. It's sad. Is it your jam? You need a nitcomb? Are there torn betting slips around you? Where's the used chewing gum? Would you wear the shoes of a bankrupt man? Would you bask in the sun at the financial district as stocks plunge? Would you watch television as your sister is raped? Have you ever drunk with the homeless? Do you know what it means to be free? Have you ever been? Would you even want to? Do you wear different clothes when you see him? Do you have the most cake?

You Kissed Him In Secret. I Know Cause I Seen It

Right. Reason number one why Canada rules: They place people playing hockey on their five-dollar bill. Reason number 2: they invented hockey. That’s about it.
I was looking at her today imagining how much I would enjoy making out with her. It was nice. She caught me starring a couple of times, but she just smiled as I tried to look away. Today she looked good. Maybe it's because I haven't seen many women lately, but maybe because she really is attractive. I know she is smart. But today there was something about her that made me wish we lived in Roman times and I could tell her things like how her beauty made me intensely depressed because someday her beauty would rot away in the ground with everyone else and how it upsets me to know that future generations wouldn't be able to soak her in as I have. Those generations will miss out on a lot. In Roman days I could have said this shit and got away with it. But now I am some gangsta thug wanna be playing my game. But alas, that shit is no longer acceptable. Could it be that today she looked that good? Or was it that I found drinking beer for breakfast makes the whole day painless?
It’s about that time of year indeed.
I have thusly tried watching Bubba Ho-Tep five times. I have thusly laughed my ass off five times. I have thusly fallen asleep at the same part five times. Conversely, I have thusly had five wet dreams involving people I shouldn’t and enjoyed all five till the end.
One day, I will figure it all out.
This is hitting hard. Yes.
I hope I get all that spam today like I did yesterday. At first I wanted to turn it off, but then it made me happy to live under the apocryphal assumption that people read this.

One Inch Deep

Right. It is raining here today. And that is a very good thing. I am about to get a BBQ chicken pizza. And that is a very good thing. The Steelers play tonight. And that is a very good thing.
I am sitting here and thinking of you. All of you. It is a remarkable thing I am doing, mostly because I rule. What am I talking about? I have no clue. I am as lost as you are half the time. But I still believe it's worth it. Even when you frequent my frequency and the drinks and drugs got you on a different frequency. I don't know where I am.
I think you should take my advice. Buy a bike. We are all going to need one.
In other news, the book of my life would be much better than the actual events happening in real time, like the Highlander. Only instead of cutting off heads, I put dimes in the curse jar.
I wish this pizza would get here.
Lord. I am really sucking at this game I am playing right now.
I was going to write all about how the hate that gets spewed out of my mouth is just love that gets caught in my head for too long. But fuck it. I'm tired.

Yalla Yalla

Right. That is me. He is I and I am him. I am the guy receiving my birthday kiss from my friend Ben. God bless it.
So what is happening? I really hope you all check out the taste. I think his shit is funny. So please do it for me.
I am seriously considering getting another tattoo. Even though I hate tattoos.
Billy Bragg is the shizzle.
Air conditioning is the greatest invention ever. Other notable inventions include pavement, beer, video games, the blitz, the curve ball, girls who talk mean to the dick, the trumpet and leather. All of which rock.

Ships That Pass In The NIght

Right. I feel this guy. I love my mother. I am terrified. I don't like her being ill. But like, I've never wanted to bone her, with the exception of one dream where I nailed her and my sister in the best performance of my dream life. But I choose not to acknowledge that. Was that the truth or a lie? No one will ever know. No one will ever know. I will carry the secret to my early grave. That is Oedipus by the way. It is my favorite piece of art in the world. So buy it for me.
Yes. Indeed. That’s how I roll.
This month marks the one-year anniversary of my blogging world. In one year I have managed to attain seven readers. At this rate when my blog reaches 43 trillion years old, half the universe’s population will read. AWESOME!!! Seriously. I don’t even know why I bother.
Pabst is back in my life. God bless capitalism. I got the capital and you got the ism.
Have you ever been terrified about something? Like freaked the fuck out. But then someone plays some Miles Davis in your head. You do the shit you are afraid of and you nail it. You get up in its ass like a gerbil. You fuck it until it has no choice but to tell its mother about how the brutal violent degrading fuck it just received sent shockwaves up its spine in orgasms. Has this ever happened to you? It happened to me today.
Tomorrow I will entertain everyone with a picture of me. I am the ugliest human being to roam the Internet. Which places me high in the running for ugliest person of all time. So don't get your hopes up.
I have an Acura. I have a Razor cell phone. I have an entire wardrobe made by diesel, Kenneth Cole, Armani and Banana Republic, along with some Brooks Brothers shit. I have music that is awesome and unique. I am Catholic. I have tattoos. I still feel empty. To plagiarize my boys. It's only a matter of time, before we all go away to a better place, I'm told. It all sounds well and fine. But with out you around I feel nothing but cold.

Rue The Whirl

Right. I have no inspiration at all. No motivation either. I just want to go back home and hang out with my mother. I am covered in chiggers. I invented the 40-time defense. All it is, is running as fast as you can the opposite way of danger. It rules.
I am out of beer. I want my two dollars. I am having the worst week ever and it is only Tuesday. I just don't know what to do. I know what I want to do, but it has little to do with what I ought to do.
I ain't talking to you no more. I swear to whatever.
I need to find something new. I am bored. This shit is easy. I just get bored with shit when it becomes easy. Maybe I should try and be a hockey goalie. That has to be a rough job. I mean when I screw up at my job a huge siren and flashing red light doesn't go off just to let everyone know I suck again.
I can see the heat here it is so hot.

Triangles & Rhombuses

Right. Four days in the field. Fuck. It should have been fun. Land navigation. Weapon qualifying. Gas chamber. It is all fun and easy shit. Except these fucking ROTC kids are killing me. Three lost their gas masks. One lost his 80-pound flack jacket. I ask you. Wouldn't you realize that it wasn't on you anymore? He didn't. One lost his weapon. Which is sort of a big deal. I mean they only lock the entire fucking post down when that happens. It was awful. I am searching in the middle of the thickest mess of thorns I have ever seen to find this lost weapon. It was only 107 degrees. No big deal. Four hours. He is being processed out of the Army. Dipshit. I am going to buy him a pair of shoes and a dildo. If he doesn't like the shoes he can fuck himself.
Then it took some people 11 hours to qualify. 11 hours? To hit 23 out of 40 fucking targets? Are you kidding me? No. These people suck balls.
I got home Friday and was all set to blog my ass off and drink my insides raisin dry. However, my mother's surgery went bad or something. So my father, instead of calling the Red Cross and getting me out of the field and home to see her, did nothing. I found out about it Friday and got home as fast as I could on Saturday. Mom will be fine though. She's a tough old broad.
My Sunday night plan? Shower. Done. Blog. Efforting it as we speak. Add music to the old I Tunes. Done. Watch Bubba Ho-Tep. Watching it. Find some computer porno and jerk off. I doubt I will. I don't even have the energy to fuck myself.

Bear Witness

Right. I switched from Pabst to Miller Light. Partly because of great taste and it being less filling and all. But mostly because they were out of Pabst and no one around here sells Murphy's. But the rest of my day remains intact. Rest assured.
The Army is throwing the proverbial cog in my proverbial wheel. For the next four days and three nights I will be living it up in a field problem. This is a fancy way of saying I will be living in the hot assed woods in the middle of the hot assed summer for the remainder of this hot assed week. Bullocks.
There is this girl in my OBC I desire to hate fuck if only because she is so stupid I hope the spasmodic orgasm's will wake her intellective abilities the fuck up. That and she has legs as long as my car.
It really is amazing how little attention I am paid by the opposite sex. I can't even get the girl at Wendy's Old Fashioned Hamburgers to give me extra fries. I'll bet I could win some award. I'm not sure of the award. But I would dominate the voting like the peeps for Regan. Back in the day at least.
If you ain't reading Alfred then you ain't down with me. I put it to ya like dat.
I have thusly replaced all food with beer. I am happy with the resulting results.
You know what someone ought to invent? A portal in which I can jump into the future and figure out the lottery numbers. I would use the ever-loving shit out of this device.
Dios mio man I love this Tegan and Sara record.
I am tired. So you get nothing. Nothing to make you go, "Awww." Nope. Nothing like that. Today you get shit and you'll have to feast on it until I get back and write something to make you think of me while you fuck his brains out. Or to think of Steve McQueen while she rides your jalopy until the tires go flat. Or think of me while you fuck her mouth and wish it were her friend and she wishes you were an ice cream sandwich. Or think of him saying my words while he fucks your sister. Or even possibly thinking of me while you pleasure yourself and I live in the woods dreaming of beer.