Domino Reaction

Dear Yossarian,
What's going on? I am Jewish and my boyfriend isn't. He is Christian. Our relationship is great and we are both thinking of taking it to the next level. I want him to convert, so our children can be raised with my beliefs. He doesn't want to and has asked me to become Christian. I don't want to, but as long as the whole future family is on the same page, isn't that what's important?

Pam

Dear Pam,
You say your relationship is great and I assume you mean the fucking is great. If religion is a large enough part in the two lives you both live (separately I might add) to try and change the other, then I got some good news and I got some bad news. The good news is you can start fucking nice Jewish boys. The bad news is my car insurance will triple because of German laws.
I don't know if everyone being on the same page is the best thing for a family. I mean, if my mom and dad were both making meth in the basement, while they were on the same page, I don't think it would have been very conducive of a nice upbringing.
I am not equating religion to meth. I like religion. Deal me in. I enjoy being Catholic. But variety is the spice of life.
Your children won't give a carpenter's shit what you people do. We Like to think that children are fragile and can't deal with a little strife. Wrong. Kids are the toughest people ever. It's when we get older and life gets a little hard we become pussies and blame our shortcomings on whatever may have happened. That way, everyone can be a victim.
A child has four thoughts. When are we going to eat? When can we play? When can I sleep? What's that shit taste like? Your children won't be thinking, "Hmmm. Mom and dad worship God in different ways. I am so confused. I should kill all the Jews and end this confusion once and for all." Nope. Your kids will figure it out. They aren't dumb, they are just dumb to the world. But what did you expect? They have never been here before. They can think and figure all sorts of shit out.
So the problem isn't with your future children. I mean, you aren't even pregnangt. Your take issue with something about your boyfriend. But there can't possibly be one thing wrong with a man who fucks you like he does, so let's use the kids as an excuse. Putz.
In summation, grow the fuck up and have some balls. Actually, that might fix most personal problems.

These

Need

Names

So

Here

Jerk

Violence

Right. Nothing good today. Nothing you like to read. SO go away. Only one of you stays. Which one? Good question. The only one I want reading this is the mother fucker who slashed my tires. Keep reading you dickless piece of shit.
I have to put my car on a boat in 2 days. 2. Two. You slashed my tires, thusly making it impossible for me to even drive the thing to the tire store as I only have one spare tire and 4 slashed tires. 2 days.
I need to figure out where I am going to get 900 dollars for these new tires. I ain't got it. I sent all my dough to a German bank I can't get at until I get to Germany. Also I sunk all my money in T-Bills so I ain't even got 900.
So I am going to offer up what I consider to be a very fair deal. I will give the car to your mother. I will make the payments. It is hers. She can have it. All she has to do is put tires on it and drive it away. I will even pay for the innsurance. I get you, some duct tape, a chair, a blow torch, a screw driver, gasoline, styrofoam, scissors and a pair of plyers.
I will pull your teeth out of your fucking skull with the plyers. I am thinking of becoming a dentist, so this will work out well.
I will mix the gasoline and styrofoam to make napalm. I will slowly burn your feet and hands off. You won't need them where I'm sending you.
I will use the scissors to cut into your ball sack. I will let your balls hang free and compare size against mine. Your balls must be huge as you need to slash tires.
The blow torch and screw driver are key. I will heat the screw driver and then burn you where ever I deem you need a nice burning. I am thinking a nice place to start is what ever hose it is that keeps the nuts to the body.
Then the blow torch will be used to melt various parts of you off. This is all done while you are duct taped to the chair.
As you are about to die, I will place a call to 911. Instruct them of what I have done, and have the ambulance come save you. This will keep me free of any murder charge and you in the hospital for about as long as I am in jail. Upon my release, I will find you and do it again, to you and your mother, and I will take my car back. You fucking twat. I swear I will bash the living fuck out of all you love in front of you if I ever find you. I hate you.

Culture

Right. I, for one, would like to know how it got hotter after the sun went down. I might have to hit the mother fucker in the breadbasket, then split his wig and rupture the old cerebellum. In an esoteric way of course. Maybe then we can live how we were before. I got a million mother fuckers to watch my back, some brass knuckles to bash your teeth and the fattest sack. I heard my brother broke your jaw. Is that why your chin is all katywompis?
Is it katywompis or katywonkis? Because I say katywonkis close to 14 times a day and if it is katywompis I'd like to know. I only typed katywompis because this one hot girl in college said it was katywompis and I just thought of hot pretty her hands were when I was typing up there.
Where will the memory of my existence be enshrined? It's a question we all ask ourselves. I hope the answer is within the oversized heart of an extra hot coke whore. I need to find more coke whores.
I have been looking at these boats and it looks like I have a choice. That's fine. Life is full of decisions. If I get this boat I am either going to have to be rich, as docking fees are insane, or, and this is what I am giving serious consideration to, a pirate. Not with like a a peg-leg and an eye patch. But more with like no job and I could just roam the waters. It would be nice. I need a woman with good credit and the desire to do nothing more with her life than to sit on a boat traveling from port to port and fucking the crap out of me. I need her to have good credit so we can get the boat and then not pay. And if the bank pulls up along side of us to collect, then it wasn't meant to be.
Living life on the sea. Hooah.
I have been entertaining the idea of joining the merchant marines when my current job is done. They get paid well and only work like half of the year and shit. It's real dangerous, which is a plus. It's a nice challenge.
I am sitting on the couch reading and enjoying a nice mouthful of Copenhagen when there is a rap on my door. Cocksucker. I am listening to Norah Jones and reading, why are you bothering me? I stand and walk the 3 feet to my door and look through the peephole. It's about fucking time. Every time someone knocks on my door it ought to be two hot women. Hello? Yes, we want you to join us. The way the one is smiling, I could fuck her in three hours. But the other one is prettier and seems more bitchy. I like the bitchy, but is other one is gushing. Best day ever. I'm sorry? Join you? Yes what is your name. The Mighty Yossarian. Well Mr. Mighty. No please call me Yoss. I wonder why more women don't wear summer dresses? They must not have the figure to pull it off. These two broads do not have that issue. These girls are super cute. I'm Mandy and this fawning girl is Lisa and we want you to come Naturally to Church with us. Sure why not. It's a blah blah blah Mormon church, we can come back Sunday and pick you up for our service. I'm Catholic is that going to be a problem? No not at all. This is going to be a problem. I doubt I ought to use Missionaries as an escort service. Sometimes I hate God. Well Yoss, we will see you Sunday around 7. Sounds good I look forward to it. Will you be here also Lisa? Yes. No hesitation. And an eye fucking like it's her job to eye fuck. Too easy. I will be the one driving. You two want to come in for a bit? I know it's hot and you must be tired. Yes. I love this woman. No we really can't. My friend is a little too overzealous. We really must be getting along now. Who talks like this? Where are you guys from? I'm from Mississippi. Salt Lake, we really must be going. Where are you from? St. Louis and I've been living in Boston for grad school. Oh why are you here then? The Army. It's like I can hear Lisa get wet. Mandy stays propper. So Sunday. Yeah sure, we can talk about it now. I really need a lot of work. I need a good saving. Okay we can come in. No we can't sir but we will see you Sunday. I promise we will be here first before we pick up the others. The others? Yes currently we have 15 more people coming Sunday. I thought I was special. You are, this is just our mission and we must get along, all of your questions can be answered Sunday. Where else do you have to go today? Yoss, why are you insistent on asking these questions? Just...shucking and jiving. Well we. Lisa! We must be going we will pick you up Sunday and I am sure you two can talk all you want. Yeah, you're right. It was nice meeting you Lisa, I'll see you Sunday. Oh you too, we will be here first and I insist you ride in the front seat. Why do I leave for Germany in a week? Mandy thanks for stopping by. You have a good day sir. No really, people call me Sir all day, my name is Yoss. Well then Yoss, Sunday. They turn their backs to me and Lisa turns to look. Mine. I am going to hell. I wish I had some Fruity Pebbles. I really don't want to go to Germany.

Cash

Right. At this stage in my life, I really only have one question. However that one question is followed up by numerous questions encompassing everything from the weather to if you will ever shut up when you're talking to me. So you see it is rather futile to ask me to ask you my question, as you will never have the time to answer it. Also, I'd like for you to fill out this form which doesn't have the space on it for what I really need to know.
You know what pisses me off? Aliens. Maybe I should have given you time to guess what pisses me off. What the bloodclot ever. Not the Mexicans. But the space aliens. Fuck them. Actually they don't piss me off, it's more the idiot people who believe in them. I always hear the same shit about how Aliens genetically engineered the human race. We have so much to learn from our Alien creators. They are more spiritual than religious. They are more advanced and thus, they must be benevolent. Yadda blah. A race with such power and technology must have put war and disease to bed in order to become so advanced. Sure. I must be broke because I don't buy it.
Whatever happened to taking some pride in us? Maybe we can teach them a thing or two. Maybe, just maybe, they really aren't all that nice. Maybe they want to fucking eat us. Maybe everything you've been told hasn't been a lie and God did create the heavens and Earth. Maybe Jesus really was the son of man. Maybe fuck these stupid aliens up their stupid alien asses. Maybe when the space ships land and the alien guy comes walking out to greet (a.k.a. shoot the shit out of) us, and you go running with at it with a flower and expect enlightenment and for the aliens to bring forth the utopia you think is possible, maybe in the alien culture that is a declaration of war. Thanks for fucking us. I'd have just given the guy some BBQ and called it a day. But now we are fucked because of your new wave hippy alien worshiping man hating ass. Appreciated.
I want to shower in ice. That would be cooling.
Upon listening to my audblog thing, I have determined I curse too much.
I also learned that I think it is clear I need to sing more.
I am buying a boat. A giant sailboat. It will be the best day of my life.
I have this desire to get married. I don't know why, but I want to. As long as she is rich, hot, smart, hates every man on earth except for me and her family and is cool with drinking all night every night with me and my friends. Where is that bitch?
Ahhh, to be a bull in a china shop.
If you say each word right, Sanskrit and hieroglyphic rhyme. Coincidence? Doubtful.
Sweet merciful crap I do not want to go to Germany.
Cingular fucking sucks. I want all of them to die. I am going to buy a new phone when I get to Germany. Fuck this phone. Fuck Cingular. Fuck it all.
I think of her often. Only every time I happen to have a synapse fire in my brain. It's funny because I didn't even know her that well. But I wanted to. I wanted to sit in silence and watch her read. I wanted to only hear her voice for years on end. I wanted every thing about this girl. If I ever die, I want her to greet me in the afterlife. If I ever am the punch line of a joke, I want her to be the premise. If I ever get the chance, I want to smell her hair and feel her skin against mine. If I ever dance, I want it to be with her. I only want to speak to her. I only want to write for her. I only want to see her. I only want her. I want to stand in a room full of people and look upon her and die from the emotion overwhelming my heart. I want her to know, that she is my past inside my present. If I ever see her again, I want to give it to her like her daddy used to.

My Voice Rules

Some Fucking Days

Right. Martina Hingis is fucking hot. I am so tired I could puke. I just want to wake up in 3 years. Is that too much to fucking ask? Let me be.
If you get some stitches, just take them out yourself. That way you save 45 bucks and can go out drinking.
I'm going to get promoted here pretty soon. I can use the money.
You know the thing about Evil Knievel? So what if his life sucks, he has a lot of great stories. Also, he realized long ago what just occurred to me: if you can't live well, then die spectacularly. Live or die, people will clap their heads off.
I need a haircut.
I need to pay bills.
I need a new job.
I need a new life.
I need an orange.
I'd like to fuck an Asian.
I'm the worst fuck up in all history.
I'm tired as fuck. I'm going to bed.

I Top Pop Charts

Right. What is wrong with the people? Let's just write a check and money will solve problems. The check is what makes the box filled. In the industry, we call that a double entendre.
Your dreams will fall apart, and when they do, there will stand the fears once thought conquered eagerly waiting to expose you for the hero you are not. This is the secret creed of man. This is the known creed of the fallen.
When the best of the present and the fondest of the could have one been's become one - I will die. When the death of me is laughed at by the two - I will resurrect. When confronted with the knowledge and peace I bring back - the two will abandon. When the two live, prosper, wither and die - I will palliate the offense. When they are tried, convicted, sentenced and begin to cry - we will know from the smell that the two are crying for themselves and not the victim and not even for each other. The three of us will live under a red hot moon until the two devise a way to replace the soul with a microchip - that is what will kill my forever.
I'll give it a shot.
Every word I speak to her, I have failed in making the words as musical as the sound of her hair in the spring wind. She deserves to only hear music as beautiful as her. Every time my tongue touched hers, it was wrong. I should have a tongue that tastes like wine and smells of roses, because that is what she deserves. Every place she has lived has not met the standard. The buildings are made of stone. The air is tainted with breath. The night sky is hidden by the skyglow of humanity. She deserves the brilliant night sky of the ancients. She deserves virgin air. She deserves heavenly material forged by angels to house you and yours. Every time my hands caressed a part of her it was incomplete. Incomplete because there is no earthly affection I can give that means what I want it to. Incomplete because the dawn will arrive and rent is due and work must get done and I will never have the time to do it properly. Incomplete because of circumstances beyond my control but within her tolerance.

Here Come The Mighty

Right. Barbecues are fun. They are more fun when the host lives on a golf course.
Where do we go from here? Preordainment. Preloaded. Postbelieved. Monday morning quarterbacked.
I've been asked recently to write about someone specific. Write about specific happenings and the feelings felt. I am sorry I can't. It doesn't work that way. Maybe I gave the impression that when I write about "her" that there is an actual person or persons identified in my gullet as "her." Sadly, there is not. I just sort of write. I don't know who it's about. I don't ask questions.
I could write about real women I have dated. It wouldn't be the same. You wouldn't want to read it. You wouldn't like it.
I remember how she was constantly cheating on me. That was nice. I remember how she was to high to remember my birthday. Poetic. I fell more in love when you ordered porn and rode me while making me watch. Spiritual. I knew you were God incarnate when you slept through my college graduation because you hadn't slept in the prior four days. Magic. You spent all your money on meth at Christmas, resulting in us receiving a miscarriage. Magnetism. I want her never to take off her cowboy hat while we fuck. Stripper. Thank you for living, I met your sister, the best looking woman I have ever seen in real life. Divination. She wanted to move to a whole new continent for college. Timing. It wasn't my age but my job as to why she wouln't introduce me to her parents. Bewitching. She attacked me with a knife, she attacked me with words and she attacked me with curable V.D. Enchantment. She believed that aliens were our scientific creators and that I was joining the anti-christ. Logic.
These are the women I've dated in real life. Sorry. I can't do it for you as it is impossible. I just make this shit up. I'm like Eminem, only more sappy and less urban. I'm like one guy sitting at his computer wondering why he might die in order to preserve the behavior subjected to himself. I'm like one man who needs his student loans paid off. I'm like one guy who hates traffic but loves to drive. I'm like one man who doesn't understand the female in Savior. I'm like one guy who listens to the party next door and, from his window, watches the women stumble to their cars and drive off to meet Pete because they need some dick. I'm just one man.

I Like Where Your Head's At

Right. I'll tell a bitch like this, "Bitch. You never know if I'll make breakfast if you don't spend the night." But what the bitch don't know is I have no food, therefore, I will make her no breakfast. But she can have a protein shake if she wants. I am going to hell.
I'll tell a bitch like this, "Bitch. I might be seeing double, but there's only one of me talking to the two of you and I'll fuck both you till I cum." But what the bitch doesn't know is, I'll be thinking of Keira Knightly, Missy Peregrym and the pornstar Venus.
I'll tell a bitch like this, "Bitch. The only German I speak is what I know from the song '99 Red Balloons' and I don't know that song at all." But what the bitch doesn't know is that I speak enough German to impregnate her mom and not pay for the abortion.
Enough.
I am about to go to Germany here soon. Truth be told, I don't want to go. Truth be old, I never really did. Truth be told, I have a plan on fucking half of Eastern Europe. Truth be told, I'll do just as well over there as I am here. Truth be told, I am looking forward to getting out of the Army. Truth be told, I am doing very well at my job. Truth be told, it's all I do. Truth be told, it gives me direction and purpose. Truth be told, I had these things before, I just didn't know it. Truth be told, I don't miss TV. Truth be told, I work with some amazing people. Truth be told, I admire them. Truth be told, I am better than them. Truth be told, I just recently discovered something. Truth be told, nothing tastes better than thin. Truth be told, I despise running. Truth be told, I'm only good at what I despise. Truth be told, every Field Grade Officer is trying to set me up with women. Truth be told, it's only to keep me in the Army. Truth be told, I've met some of these women. Truth be told, they ain't no fucking swan. Truth be told, they are pretty, smart, nice and decent. Truth be told, I don't want any of that. Truth be old, I want to be 30 and sitting in a shitty bar drinking with 50 year old people who look like they are 70 and to slowly die with them. Truth be told, I'm only funny because I don't know how else to be. Truth be told, I am Danger Boy. Truth be told, I am seeking life to hit me hard enough to make me stop trying.

That's How It's Supposed To Be

Right. Man, Unkind is my friend. He's my alibi. He's my accessory to the crime. His weariness vexes me. I'm terribly vexed. I think maybe I should come see him. And bring hookers. Expensive hookers with big fake titties and manicured toes. Maybe I should just send him a singing handjob lady. Anyone know where I can get a singing handjob-a-gram lady? Because I might need one as well.
Fuck it. The world with gaze with deep amaze at those fearless few coming through the foggy dew. Those few are Unkind, Cocaine and myself. Thus, no hookers. No fucking hookers for you.

I decided to give you a list of things people have said to me. Some of them are exact, some are paraphrased, some are quoted directly, some I cannot divulge that information, but all of them are true and all of them made my life enjoyable for the time it took to listen and I've always remembered.

"Yossarian is the kind of guy we send alone into South America to wipe out a bunch of people."
- Kansas State linebacker coach at a 10th grade football camp.
"Danger Boy."
- The name the women in the support battalion have dubbed me. I think it's hot.
"Vince Vaughn in Wedding Crashers."
- Two different people telling me that his character was based on me.
"You kiss like an Angel."
- This girl once.
"You are super-sexy."
- Random girl at the Delmar one night.
"Yossarian won't fail you."
- My commander to a Colonel.
"You look damn fine in that Stetson."
- Okay, no one ever said that, but it's so fucking true it's crazy.
"If someone doesn't like Yossarian, they aren't worth knowing."
- Abe
"Your car is the bomb."
- Everyone ever who has been in my car.

I'm Learning This As I Say It

Right. I have an idea. I am going to write a pretty good book backwards. Meaning you will start reading chapter 47 and work your way to chapter 1.
I have a better idea. I will let someone else write it and I will just buy it and read it.
To further the great ideas, I will let someone else buy it and give it to me and then I will start reading it after PT one day.
Yes that is much easier.
Thank you baby girl.
I have so much inside to give to someone. I desire nothing more than to give what's inside to her. Instead she pays for advertising. I want nothing more than to share what I know is there with her. However, she enjoys watching reruns of shows she's already seen. I beg for her to fill the void inside my soul I fill with work, my car and everything I have ever done in order to try to better myself. Sadly, she only knows of having her void filled in a manner every man has ever done to her. Clean gloves hide dirty hands. Her gloves are the cleanest I've ever seen.

Again

Right. HAPPY BIRTHDAY XTX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY COCAINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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I'll Get Back To Art When I run Out Of These Pics

Right. Update Yossarian. Where you been Yossarian. Ahhh. The screams of the hordes.
In summation. GO WATCH NACHO LIBRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Is the key to me enjoying a movie walking in and expecing to hate it?

The Dude Abides

Right. There ain't no fucking rainbow in sight. Hold on to your carnal walls while the ambulance drives by saving someone you once didn't take the time to not know. You look at me as an angry man and believe to yourself I got dealt a shitty hand. I run all day and I run all night and I'll never see what Oprah had to say.
You fell in love with her while she turns tricks for dope and will later relinquish herself to you because she has no place to sleep. She will cry and you will hide her. I wrestle in silent anger while she strenuously denies allegations. You're buying what she's selling. Ironic how this works.
Tomorrow will come on through. She will talk square only to steal from you wallet. She'll never change. Leave it to the U.S.A. to wreck her. His power is what's happening while he takes her off in his Lexus. The victim's families will comfort him while she breaks the nose of respect.
They lead the timid legions of which shall crumble. They lead the multitudes to the palace, where the two will fuck before God. She will moan out of a desire for more dope and he will fuck her the way he yearns to be fucked by his father. The father who enabled him. The father who kept him out of trouble. He will hate her for not being what he wants, but being what makes sense for him to want.
The two will provoke the masses to fuck before God. The two will profit. The two will crown themselves as enlighteners. They will whore eachother out for more.
God will forgive. I will not and it's a sin.

Punisher? I Was Hoping For Batman Or Superman

Right. Time went by and I was lost in what I found. You kept drinking the Kool-Aid. I'll bust a mother fucker. You'll take off from work early to eat pasta on some sidewalk and complain about flies and drink vodka based drinks. I will have the nail driven deepeer into my hand. It's your time to go. It's not my time to die. You'll live how you want. You'll never have this.
I have to do like 300,000 loads of laundry, clean my apartment, 3 loads of dishes and get the gym sock smell out of my apartment. Why? I have a visitor coming Thursday. Can't let the people know I am lazy.
If this mother fucker pulls any more shit. Chad McGreevy will "escort" him to the little league park, stab him in his fucking liver and Make him crawl the bases. Leaving the ground stained read, directing the children to the next base and how to get home. Chad McGreevy says this is a metaphor. I just think it's cool.
Do you like the pictures of art or the women better?
I felt like I was at home when I would see her. On random nights out and she would appear like a prophet before sinners. She came in and out of my life for a few years. My life would always get better when she was around. She would radiate an angelic quality so pure that I would silently bathe in her and draw in energy and inspiration. I was warned that if I got to close, she would go far away. On multiple nights it felt as if we would kiss, but being the man I am, I didn't want to let her down in any way. I wanted to be everything she would ever need. I felt she deserved it. She acted like a womb for me and she deserved better than me. She left. She went somewhere far away. I am trying to find her. I need her to rejuvenate me. I need her to look in my eyes again. I need to hear her voice. I need proof of God. I need to know If I am yet the man she deserves.

I Ain't The One

Right. No one wants to say which Superhero I would be. Well fuck you all up your stupid asses. I forgot yesterday to mention that I know my brother, Bobby Chickenparts or whatever his name is now, would be Super Grover.
I am so fucking hungry. But everything I eat gives me serious ass gas problems. It's a simple equation. Food plus eating minus overhydration times running 25 miles a week equals WMD from my ass.
I've decided to move Ireland the minute I get out of the Army. Some of you will be happy to know I have also squashed all thoughts of staying in longer.
Right now I am wearing some black socks, black shorts, an Ireland soccer jersey or some kind, a St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap I've painted green and my watch. I am going to find some shoes and put them on. I will then find a bar, enter and get as violent as I can.
ANGELE Dei,
qui custos es mei,
Me tibi commissum pietate superna;
Hac nocte illumina, custodi, rege, et guberna.
Amen.