Desperate Gasps

Howdy Weblog

2007-04-20T13:11:00.000-07:00

It's just you and me tonight. I haven't updated you in so long that nobody's gonna read anymore. And if they do they'll no doubt be distracted by the teens and latinos and other such fare they can find below. Why for a bit there was a link to an assparade "blog" which at the bottom had verses from Corinthians written in sequence, (I think) but every proper noun was the word ASSPARADE, with the same presentation as well. Well boy did I ever titter.
Today is a very special day. It's the screwy modern trinity of sorts: Hitler's Birthday, The High Holiday (or 420 if you prefer), and Columbine. May 20th seems to me like one of the weirder days of the year and I thank god that massacre happened earlier in the week as opposed to today. I think that's about all I'll say regarding the goings on in Virginia as they've gotten enough coverage. Although it is important to note that something like 150 Iraqis died in a market bombing (I think it was being rebuilt from a bombing last october) on Wednesday morning, that received two minutes maybe in the hour of virginia news, on cycle. So it goes.
Kurt Vonnegut died weblog. That made me very very sad and I now think I want to read more Kurt Vonnegut. But its difficult to read anything anymore as modern media has melted my brain to the point where it spins for only 10 to 15 minutes before giving out. I can't even read most of you weblog because these posts are so damn long I just forget what I was reading.
In fact I often seem to lose track of what I was writing. Like Kurt Vonnegut, who should totally rest in peace.
Have you managed to pay child support yet Weblog? Your silence says it all. Well I should be getting back to the real world of digitized entertainment but let me just say that I love Jesus and all the little children (except the ones who are going to have kids that I'm going to have to help pay to keep alive cause their parents can't and we already have too many people anyways) and now that I come to think about it Jesus can come off pretty "oh look at me"ish sometimes too. Buddha's a smug looking son of a bitch. But basically weblog I'm ok. Not great, not dying or suicidal or impoverished (I'm broke but not impoverished). It's everybody else I'm worried about.

Kerry Healy is a Cunt

2006-10-12T10:40:00.000-07:00

That should be good for a couple of hits. I don't think I really need to expound upon the above, anybody who's seen a campaign ad for our gubernatorial race should already be aware that Madam Healy is a uber-cunt. Almost like plato's form of cunt. Vote not a cunt on election day. I'm interested to know what people think of the ballot issue regarding selling wine in grocery stores, I guess I'm for it. I'd much rather support the sale of beer in gas stations.
But on to important things... Me. I'm living in a new place. Kind of a woodsy shack in the woods, but also on the water. Pretty kickass actually. Also, I've discovered the secret of brewing tasty as hell alcoholic cider. I don't have a steady job as such but I do work part time doing things people need done. I make almost enough to live and its incredibly liberating. I'm worried about a friend though. He recently came out to himself and is now officially (for the time being at least) gay. That whole Mathew Shephard thing scares the hell out of me. The idea of him being beaten some night ... it makes you think of all the homophobic statements you haven't challenged in your life. the future will be pretty much today I hope. And when its not, I'm pretty sure it'll be different. And there's the sooth for today. But primarily... KERRY HEALY IS A CUNT.

*Note: The author has never met Kerry Healy is is basing his views primarily on her incredibly cunty political ads. But the author is very sure that had he met her she would have ignored the people serving her food and kicked puppies all the while with a very entitled air. Cunt.

I'm ready for some advertising.

2006-09-09T10:17:00.000-07:00

I have officially given up on politics untill after the elections. I'm going to mimick my friends and loved ones votes for local offices since they pay more attention to local politics. And I've come to realize that in any national election year, but especially during mid-term elections, I don't trust the news. maybe I'm hallucinating but I would swear its gotten even more partisan. Anywho it's time for what really makes america great ... Football. Football is the most united thing many if not most americans do. Every year in this country its gotten bigger. To the point now where people pick players from other teams and make their own team who performs according to how each of those players do respectively. It's not like, oh I'm rooting for the pats, cause I'm really rooting for the pats, peyton manning, the san diego defense and also lamont jordan who's playing against the san diego defense.
This is a much healthier hobby for bored men and women than webcam sex and I support it. But if anybody watched the NFL kickoff they may have like me, been completely mystified as to which portion of the programming was "the show" and which portions were "the ads". NFL Films clips with pop music blends into Madden 2007 shots (really well I might ad) then back into a film clip with a narrative something like "strength. dedication. The will to be champions." etc. and then a black screen and some ford truck drops from the sky. This is a level of corporate integrated media I can't cope with. More and more I'm downloading my media. The problem is without ads I feel compelled to watch an entire seasons worth of episodes in a sitting (of a good show of course).
Somehow watching the NFL kickoff weekend got me to thinking about the future of media. Intellectual property rights are a really fascinating thing. There's apparently a party in poland that seeks to abolish them. Thus did football serve as a bridge leading to deep political thought (it eventually lead to aquatic dual-sexed freedom fighters). Thus did the NFL Kickoff weekend help me put my 6 political make or break issues into perspective. My big politcal decision making issues are (and please bear in mind this is with regards to what's relevant to me and my ability for long term happiness in the country, not what's morally right, else gay marriage would be on here) campaign finance reform, censorship/intellectual property issues, a living wage, the environment, universal healthcare, and legalization (I'd take decriminialization) of marijuana. Gun control and abortion are certainly important, but it seems so simple, I have the right to both. It's like arguing against torture, it's hard to have the conversation without using the word "duh". Although you know what ladies, while there is absolutely no way in hell the government has the right to tell you what to do with your whatnots, as soon as you get on my anti-circumcision bandwagon I'll start to help you out at your abortion thing.
Why is it that when women are circumcised its a human rights violation yet men are circumcized at your local hospital. I understand the horrific effects of female circumcision. But when people make it out like its two different things I just wonder, "how many nerve endings does it take to make it a HR violation?". I mean to start with ladies have more nerve endings and better happy times, so that's not fair. But then to say that mutilating the genitalia of babies off either gender is ok is kinda fucked. I think people with faith based reasons like the jews should be grandfathered of course just like the cultural relativism of the UN, but the protestants picked this shit up because they thought it prevented masturbation (sounds kinda similar to the FGM in foreign countries I hear so much about). What the Fuck people? Can't we just have babies, unhook 'em from their moms and leave their units be? doctors need to let hermaphrodites be both genders and be the best whatever they can be. First and foremost more little kids would see hermies while playing doctor and those insipid hermaphrodite websites wouldn't be able to keep autodeducting 24.95 from my bank account. But also that's who they are and what if, just what if there is a door that protects the secret to save all mankind, and only a long foreskinned mondo labia'd hermaphrodite could open the door, what would all of you gential mutilators do then hmmmmm?

Also tune in next week as I do a long exploration into the world of fish people with both sex organs ... Mermaphrodites: The Sailor's Surprise!

GO PATS!
- and peyton manning, reggie bush, lamont jordan, javon walker, armani toomer, antonio gates, Steven Gostkowski, and the San Diego Chargers defense. eeeehhhh.

Jews

2006-07-31T11:02:00.000-07:00

I'm not a jew. I've known some jews. I lived with a Jew for a semester at college. His name was Alec and we both learned a great deal about ourselves, and each other. I was very offended when he refused to have a word with the higher ups about letting me in on the Zionist Conspiracy. I offered to get circumcized and he just gave me this haughty offended look. Note: he didn't deny though!
Seriously though. In watching the news and the killing and slaughter and bombing with military techonology named things like, "F-16 jets, Apache helicopter" I've been angry at the Jews. In london I talked to a good number of palestinians as part of my race relations study and they really don't have a country or a future. The lebanese it seems to me are at the mercy of Syria and Iran and their own super crazy terror group. Israel is sovereign and relatively safe and in control and they choose to deprive these people of power and water and emergency services and then they blow up UN observers and buildings of women and children and good dear god what the hell is going on? I was really really pissed at the Jews. Damn the Jews. Those Jews.
So the other night I watched Munich. First, I was struck by the balanced portrayl and general quality of the movie. Second, I was struck by how sad and beleagured Jewery was in the late 60s early 70s, which lead to them occupying the territory that pisses people off today (not entirely though). Third, I said to myself damn those crazy vindictive and effective Jews. Those are some damn scary Jews. So I guess it's not all israel's fault.
But I want them to get their own weapons. Cause when blackhawks are shooting tommohawk missles, it just feels like its us. So Israel needs to relax. The world needs to stop this crazyness like right now, but most importantly the Jews need to realize that the more of this shit they pull the less international sympathy they'll have left over in the holocaust account.

Note: for the purposes of this post Jews refers to israeli's and their expatriot sympathizers, with the exception of my college roomate. I suppose were I to refer to american jews in this post I should develop some other phrase to distinguish. I will endeavor to do this. If this post offends you or you find it simplistic or it bores you please comment. If you feel so compelled by the beauty of this post that you have to leave a comment extoling the market price of recycled paper or the good value to be found in an online degree, I'd like to take the time now to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your sincere interest in my views. Also I hear several california based logging companies are looking for a strong third quarter ... but dont tell the SEC you heard it here.

P.S.

2006-07-25T16:28:00.000-07:00

Also, totally forgot to mention this, go check out

http://marmadukeexplained.blogspot.com/

I was very sure, as I'm sure many of you are, that I saw all the humor in Marmaduke every time I read it (which was plentiful). But alas I did not see "all" the humor as Joe Mathlete showed me and continues to show me on a daily basis. My personal favorite is, "Marmaduke is laughing at his owner-lady's workout routine. She responds to her dog's mocking laughter with a sarcastic, Who's Afraid Of Virginia Wolfe-esque suggestion/putdown."

Marmaduke is truly an existenial morality play where we all learn something, even if we haven't been to college. Unlike that mickey mouse Calvin and Hobbes.

I have no plan, but I have a computer

2006-07-25T16:20:00.000-07:00

I think I may begin posting more. Not because I want to communicate, but because I love this new laptop. Here comes the heresy, It's a mac! horror of horrors this interface is just so much fucking better to use. I can make my way around a pc pretty well. But with this computer thus far, I don't "have to make my way around". It's bizarre. as to work, I'm working. I'm going to move in the next month or so. The choices are Jersey, down the road with Colin. Or perhaps Nashville to live with my brother. I don't know what I'll do after the 8th. I fly to vegas on the 9th and have two weeks paid. right around then is when I'll have to be moving out. But damned if I know what I'll do. I just hope I don't get cable. It's wonderfully entertaining but its also just way too fucking entertaining. I think I should have to be so desperate to forget my life that I'll watch ABC or nothing. The way it is now, I just forget about my life cause Tony Soprano's life kicks way more ass. Such a sad statement to read. So for a happy note, This computer kicks super mondo wicked ass. I'm a little afraid of software/hardware and being able to use it, but for basic computer purposes, it rocks pretty hard.

Living three days at once

2006-07-20T10:02:00.000-07:00

Temporal is the word to describe my newest preoccupation. I can't tell what today is. Is today just itself? Is it merely the sun's path across our field of view as product of our rotation, one chance removed from all others to carve out a little slice of happy pie? Lately I've been thinking about how today is largely the product of yesterday. The puke you have to clean from last night's binge, or the feelings we have to sooth from yesterday's ill temper are all defining today while being remanants of yesterday. The same is true of tommorrow. In many ways today could just be a big set up for a great time tommorrow. Finishing your biology homework so you can party hard all weekend is a use of today in service of a tommorrow. Adult life seems to stress the latter. When I was younger I was entirely convinced of the first understanding of reality. As I deal with older people their days seemed largely tainted and defined by their pasts. I really don't know.
I've met a lovely lady recently. I'm not afraid of her. She's nice and funny and wicked smart and all sorts of other adjectives that do her no justice. She's the cause for this particular train of thought. She's the sum total lately of what I want to do with my today. She's leaving soon though so likely won't figure very heavily into my tommorrows, sad thought that one. And yet she taps into all my yesterdays with regards to lesbians and confidence and what sort of person I've shown myself to be. So where then does that leave me? Here and now. Hoping that I can embrace or overcome the past as need be, that I can live in the present and make the most of it, and that god willing maybe she'll see me tommorrow. The one thing I'm completely sure of is that when in the presence of a lovely lady or similarly compelling thing, the difference between then and now melts. The quantum theory stating actions in the present can change the past seems completely plausible. When in those moments, I lose my ape conception of time moving and feel myself hurtling along along time's arc as I really am. I literally stand in the same place as the world spins around me and time "moves forward" and it's all a question of how I feel about it. But I'm pretty sure that time and the universe and the like don't give a rip how I feel. well fuck them then, cause I feel pretty good.
Side note, rip torn got drunk as hell and started a fight at the cape cod theater project, rock on you man christ you.

Expectations. You weren't expecting another post!

2006-05-07T11:39:00.000-07:00

Yep I'm posting again. This time because I'm filled with a general feeling of wellbeing. I'm doing a real estate deal right now where I'm giving pretty well all of the commission to my client to help her buy the house she really wants. I like this. Also the family is nice and Cape Verdean and I'm starting to realize how much I don't know about other ethnic groups (i.e. how fucking awesome their food is). Also that the class of people with whom I most easily associate (educated pampered white kids) are often those with whom I have the least in common. Something about being rasied in Kentucky maybe, but simple conversations with simple people make my soul sing while sophisticated analysis of pop culture just depresses me these days. Now bear in mind old habits die hard, and I do love the pop culture of america and jokes regarding 19th century US history, but first and foremost I'm realizing I'm a person, and a low-brow one at that. I no longer want to save the world or be an important person in it, I simply hope to be a good person in the world and to engage it as it really is. Too many people think the world should be what they'd like it to be. Just as when I was 6, my father's words are so so true, "The only things that will make you truly unhappy are your own expectations of how things should happen." How true and subtle. Almost all of my unhappiness to date has flowed from my expectations. I'm only dissapointed with a result, gift, grade, paycheck, or whatever if I've set myself up the expectation of something. This could be extended to our political life in that the greater a societies expectation of entitlement, the greater its disillusion with its government. Leading me to wonder, do we believe the government is worse than it is because we expect it to do more than a should. Look who's becoming a conservative... ME! But definitely a compassionate one, or at least a really stupid real estate agent. But on sunny days when I'm working to help good people get the good homes they deserve and am not expecting myself to be prom king/Jesus Christ ... I like myself. I can look at all the choices in my life and at least understand why I did what I did and try to own that. I can look ahead at the choices I might make and the potential outcomes. But I cannot look to the future with any expectation other than I will have to work very hard and suffer through many hardships. The bitch (or rub if you prefer) lies in the fact that I've already had more priveledge and love and happiness than I'm ever likely to deserve. I don't have any bitch credits left and life isn't even half-over. WEll there are worse problems to face. (see: any news source, try something about africa)

I am graduating

2006-05-03T08:46:00.000-07:00

I would like to address this post to the douche-tastic douche who commented on my last post. The beauty of the internet may be that after baring your soul of trite depression you may get as a response a cheap offer to purchase a degree. But said cheap offer did help buck me up. Firstly, because I'm not that douche. Secondly, because I am going to graduate college, which aside from training myself to hit the ceiling (here begins the contest, first one to comment and explain what the preceeding means wins dinner from Jake) was the most psychologically taxing endeavor of my life. Not only that, but I'm still growing up. The hormonal cocktail has smoothed out, I'm actually servicing all my debt and even decreasing it, and for the phrase-in-french I really like myself (also losing weight don't hurt neither). But god was that guy a douche. I mean, a community college degree would mean more, likely cost less, and to be honest if you pick english or history or better yet psychology or anthropology, you really don't have to attend class to pass.
Also my graduation is May 20th. Any and all are more than welcome to attend. This is the demarcation point between my previous self and Billy Jean King. Once I get my degree I will become a strong and fierce female athelete, moving boundaries not only within my sport but within society itself ... wait. When I get my degree I'll be in the same job, same gender, same gi-normous penis (thank god), so where's the change? I played the game and won. end of story. Also, I'll get to go back and say goodbye. I've said a lot in my head about the people and places of college, but here's the end of it finally. So I'm graduating, congratulate me. Send me money. Also be informed that my graduation party will take place in late June and I'm trying to obtain a house for the period. Just RSVP. If you know me you'll know the #, if not you're likely a douche whose crappy pseudo-college holds nothing I need. But if you happen to fit into a third catagory of prostitute whom I've never met but wishes to give me freebies as a reward for my big sexy brain, I can be reached at 508-563-9777, just ask for Vitamin-J and tell the lady, "bitch I need my vitamins."

My Cock: Nature's Only Ergonomic Device

2006-04-29T07:59:00.000-07:00

That was one of those little snippets that was gonna become a frequent update to this site. Instead there have been ... no updates to this site. Somebody's really falling down on the job here. Oooops.
So I've been doing a lot of reflecting on friends and associates I've had over the last 6-10 years and which relationships were really positive and helped me in my life. I've noticed two things during this relfection period. First and foremost, I have uncommon perceptions of friendship, loyalty, family which are pretty rigid in that both family and friends (real ones mind you, drug buddies don't count) is that regardless of time or mood you're there for them. I mean otherwise I could hang out with people I meet at the supermarket. So the other is that with the exception of 2 people and my parents, nobody is really going to be "there for me" consistantly. This is where we got the idea of marriage I think. One morning you wake up and somebody looks at you and says, "Tricked you, now you have to wake up here every morning till you die", the upside being that there will be somebody to help you out when you shit yourself later in life. But what is to be gained from interpersonal interaction? Most of my realationships, even with my "best friend" feel like just a continued holding pattern to pass the time. Truth is I'm happier alone. Since that whole stint after London and being on the road and the isolation of senior year, I feel better when I'm alone. Most of my heavy drug use was pushed by social forces. Admittedly I loved my drugs and I loved them also for their occasional isolation, but it was always somehow a social event to find purchse and consume substances with others. Drug Buddies. What's the real difference between somebody who comes by once a week to trip or shoot up and somebody who swings by once a week to laugh? I know a lot of people who feel one action is inherantly more noble than the other, but there is really no difference. A lady friend with whom you're intimate but there is no emotional support is nothing more than a fuck-buddy. And friends, no matter how well the relationship works or how good the humor is, without sacrifice and some level of emotional dedication are little more than using buddies. The only upshot is really that they don't steal your shit like drug buddies.
So where does this new outlook leave us? Well I've stopped telling my friends what's really going on. There just doesn't seem to be either a point or an opportunity. Really though I think its that there isn't really anybody around who gets me. I can't remember the last time I sat with one of my friends and what they said helped me. I know a lot of funny people, but I don't know anybody with a soul I like anymore. Anna used to fit the bill. Maybe its that the people I'm friends with don't have any knowlege of desperation or pain. It sounds arrogant to say they don't have any knowledge, cause they obviously do have some. But witht he exception of Ben I don't think my friends know what its like to need one thing more than anything else. Or even know what its like to need somebody to just sit with you. an understanding of suicide. I'm not saying that these are the pre-requisite coversation topics, but just like I can tell when somebody has been the vicitim of sexual assault (generally, I'm actually really accurate) I can tell when somebody has been there (I have no idea where "there" is ergo the vague term there).
So I guess that's it. Open Houses to do today. Selling real estate for money. and another evening at home. I want to make it clear that I don't resent any of my friends or family for the lack of real meaning or value to our interaction, I suppose I blame myself. It's easier that way. I'm really a pretty easy going guy.

Long time no blog

2006-02-07T09:53:00.000-08:00

Andy said that to me. Not in those words but that's what he said. I think he wanted me to solve the gauntlet I laid down in my last post. Well I haven't. Nope. I've been thinking about it alot lately. The only thing I keep coming up with is fear. I am very afraid of women. But not in the traditional ways. I'm no longer really afraid a woman won't like me because well that would be like being afraid the sun might shine (too much work). I'm afraid that I'll really fall in love again. That totally weak and vulnerable can't plan out the course of my life alone anymore feeling. Most of my friends haven't been there yet, lucky bastards. It's actually like that "against the wind" song, "I wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then". I just quoted bob seeger, wow. Also, note from past, two best song re-writes "against the grain: I keep cutting against the grain." and "We didn't start the fire, we just lit a match and then we kind of dropped it."
But back to my fear. I'm afraid of women. There, stated and plain as day. Life is good otherwise. I'm pretty happy, well fed, and engaged in the world around me. but I have had a bunch of funny and poignant thoughts of late, they flit in and out of my brain. So the format of my weblog will change. There will still be these long winded semi-pointless rants. But I hope that at least twice a week I update with a small paragraph. Something along the lines of what's at the end of this post. By the by, as for Michelle. She's met a boy she's very into, and here's the real surprise ... IT's NOT JOSH!!!.
Speaking of Josh, we now come to the sad portion of our blog. My cat died. Duke is no more. After a wonderful party at the homestead my party guests stumbled upon the body of my cat. Josh, Jeremy, Ryan, and Daniel all helped me bury my cat and listened to the sarcastic joke coping mechanism that literally poured out of me. All four were wonderful and helpful. But Josh was exceedingly nice and reverant. I haven't often been impressed by a person's demeanor but Josh was really great about the whole thing. So to Josh, Jeremy, Ryan, Jenny, Anna and Daniel, thanks much, you're the best funeral party any cat has ever had. And had you not been around, it wouldn't have been unthinkable that I would still have a dead cat on my porch with no idea of what to do with it.
Jake

Note: RIP Duke Lewis Harding

further note: We buried the cat in the old pet cemetary in cataumet, so beware cute and cuddly zombie cat.

Everything coming to a head

2005-11-28T10:31:00.000-08:00

The past month has been the single most exciting period since London into Eastern Europe into Band Manager gig, it has even surpassed my recent time in Sri Lanka. My best buddy is having a damn hard time. He stayed up for a silly long amount of time and decided to forgo the men in white suits and check himself into a hospital. Funny thing is it's kinda alot harder to get out than to get in. This has been fucking with me most. He's always been saner and more level than I have (at least in my estimation it would appear). Also I saw him just before heading to England (my great aunt passed and so we went back to see the family and had a great but exhausting time, my european cousins are the shit. All of them are nice and funny and not deranged like most people I know.) and he was ticking pretty steady. I mean he's been pretty down for a long time, but I thought that was just a manifestation of good ole common sense. But nope, turns out folks that if you turn around or blink your loved ones or employers could be carted off to the laffy house. (I just made up laffy house and I really like it.)
So after returning and getting the news of my friend I've been in quite a daze. This thanksgiving featured 30 people, a family intervention of sorts (mostly self-realization, way to go), and a friends car accident leading to you guessed it folks de-fenestration. Huh, yeah how's that for a boat load of shit going on. Yep Yep. By the way to the world in general, Heather and Sean are great people, they should come to every thanksgiving ever. EVER. Same with my uncle Bill. The first baby boomer I've met in a long time who makes me think that some of us can hold on to our ideals, although apparently not our posture, (sorry uncle Bill). And during all of this there's a girl in Illinois.
Michelle is great. I had the pleasure of making her acquitance after loads of haiku trading via the information super highway. I moved matt into his new digs in Iowa and spent three days in, you guessed it folks, NORMAL, IL. There I met a girl I can talk to for what seems like 25 minutes but its 3 hours. That hasn't happened since what's her name... Sorry Anna. Where is she by the way? but we watched and laughed at movies, played games and magic and talked and had a hooting and hollering whale of a time in general. But I live here. And her life, which is fine a cool and hers, raises issues that were the boogeymen of my time with what's her name. I so we talked as I was in Chicago. But as I was on the train home I didn't call her. I thought she'd be busy or asleep or I was lying to myself about all that other crap and something else was going in the part of my brain labeled "stupid pussy".but regardless I haven't contacted this lovely warm nice smelling female I can talk to and who has kind eyes. Why? All the shit above, partly. No being sure of truth in this post. I'll leave it as a kind of question for the next one. Why not Jake? Maybe before then I will call. But regardless, love the people around you. Tell you parents you like them as people and your sorry for peeing down the heat vent in their bedroom when you were seven, even if you really aren't. Suddenly god looks at you (that's right no capitals for him) and realizes he's lost track of giving you shit lately, so here you are, double portion. Some people think he's testing us, I just this god can't multi-task. But we can. Honesty and Earnestosity, the building blocks of __________________.

Snippets from the road

2005-10-23T18:52:00.000-07:00

I'm in a motel on the estern edge of Ohio. After two days of travel and mishaps and way too much food, we're not there yet. This feels pretty much like a tiny little very efficent metaphor for life. The goal and destination, beyond a dim shadow, are just assumptions. The problems and personal strife seems larger than life itself. And this damn thing just doesn't seem to want to end.
I've been thinking a lot lately about my generation. We are beautiful people with a hope for the future. But reading Dr. Thompson today I was struck by the truth of the following, "Let's get back to Generation Z & its Lush and Extravagant birthright in this year of Our Lord 2000 ... it may be a Mixed blessing to be hatched at the top of the heap. Indeed. The Stock Market might crash, crazed Muslim terrorists might put Nerve Gas or Anthrax in your drinking water, Your daughter might get rabies or turn into a famous Porno slut with two Junkie boyfriends who will Hack into your secret Computer Code & loot your Bank Acounts ... But these are Uptown Problems, for sure, compated to being born in a Great Depression of forced to join a Hitler Youth Brigade at the end of WW2. Nobody is ever going to feel sorry for the gilded little sots of Generation Z." (Hey Rube, p10) And I don't think they should. More and more I've been thinking of the lifestyle of the people in Sri Lanka. So much more honest and to the point of getting on with existance. IN driving past the myriad of shopping malls and TA truck plazas I've come to wonder if the development of our land isn't a short term solution that doesn't work cause the problem is both intractable and inherant within the very way in which we live. Growth for growths sake. America has gone from being an elegant and beautiful land of plenty, growing adolescent full of promise ... to being a staggering brute, off balance and vulnerable without knowing it, an overgrown bully with a pituitary gland issue.
This is oddly sort of akin to how I feel about myself at present. Over developed. Over thought. Just the lack of pure sensory experience and communication. Ben feels this. I don't know exactly where he's at with his headspace, but I think he's seriously plugged in to the fact that in our all desperate search for growth, edge, interest rate advantage or whatever your bag may be, we miss each other. Too many wonderful glances across a room or a bus (rather than being a fleeting moment of serendipity) are tempered by fear and potential danger. It should be sweet but my taste buds are in the wrong place. Is anybody even reading this. I mean beyond the "yes you're saying words so I have to acknowledge them or feel like a dick" I mean do any of the things I feel are real exist to anyone else. If they don't should I push that, or should I just resign myself to the "fuck it" motto of my generation? They don't want participation, and despite what they say it feels like they really don't want your opinion, or to hear about your day. This is all likely the product of a long series of transactions with fleeting characters in a 1,000 mile odyssey. But I feel this way when I stay at home sometimes too. One thing is for sure, in rereading the preceeding line I'm totally unsure of who "they" are or why "they're" being such dicks to me. I'm pretty sure it's cause they don't like my hair. Adults always hate my hair. Come to think of it, being an adult now (of some sort) I hate my hair. I hate my whole laid back attitude that mocks the serious effort I make when I get up to go to work.

There doesn't seem to be any point here. I'm not sure there should be. but to all those who know I mean it "I love you". To everyone who will ask me to explain my decision making processes or emotional state in the next few months, "whoops". The good news lies here folks, I'm coming to believe in fate because I'm coming to believe in a basic level of determinism in human personalities. There are only certain Jake's that could exist without ceasing to be Jake. There is no universe where Jake killed Anna. I spent some time worrying about that, indicative of too much experimentation with substances, but I did wonder. But that isn't me so there isn't a potential now where I did that. In that vein of logic, only being resigned to having no real control over the course of (love, faith, employment, death, etc.) will allow me to transcend overcompensating and to allow who I am to dictate what transpires. I think it really is that easy to take you fear out of the equation. If I could do that then I can live squarely in the knowledge that things will end up where they should. They always have up to now. A philosophy proffessor would so rip this apart. People please, should you read this please respond and tell me if you found a point or anything of any logical coherance. I'd like to know what you think though, cause I'm not even sure what it is I've tried to say here. But I know that it will all be ok. Couldn't tell you why, but if we smile and are earnest ...

Well me of course.

Nuptuals to Come Hangovers for Now

2005-09-18T08:34:00.000-07:00

My good friend Jeremy's good brother Ryan will be wed in early 2007. Jennifer, his betrothed is a lovely and engaging lady who seems to earnestly care for Ryan and his family. I support their marriage. As I did yesterday when I served as bartender for their engagement party. I poured liquor to all of their various and sundry friends and family. I listened to uninteresting people say uninteresting things and very interesting people live up to their own personal hype of being interesting. There were robots at the party. Robots make me feel inadequate, I'm glad I'm not friends with any. In that actually robots are kind of like lesbains. Lesbians always make me feel a little inadequate. Lobster is tasty however, and eating lobster makes me feel less inadequate. There was no lobster yesterday. Nor were there any lesbains, that I could spot. Generally I just felt as though ryan and Jenny were travelling down a path I'd never see personally. Try as I might I just don't see long term monogomous committment in the future for me. Not cause I'm a stud or whatever who can't be tied down but mostly cause the last two ladies I've fallen for haven't been willing to "limit their experience".
The really upsetting bit is that I don't really require that anymore, in actuallity it scares me when a girl gets that one and only you look in their eye. I suppose the last two go rounds have just left me incredibly gun shy. I miss believing in forever. Especially as my own family dynamic shifts into a potentail divorce ridden mode. Although the more I think about it the more I decide that divorce is an ax always hanging above any couple who tries to say forever. Forever doesn't exist. There is neither the finite nor the infinite. There is no closure cause things don't really end, there is no forever because everything ends sometime, and most things don't even end at the same time. So it's just an aggregate of moments in which hopefully you and another person find fulfillment in each other? Maybe. God knows that can happen. Can happen with an all consuming passion, but mostly I'm just amazed that only time Buddha's pessimism seems truly inescapable is with regards to love. And yes Buddha was a pessimist. Any man who can't see that anticipation is half the joy of having something well I just don't think we see eye to eye. To have become infatuated and never been acknowledged is better than to have been castrated at 7. Take that Buddha.

London and Sandra Day and Shouldn't I be really depressed?

2005-07-12T09:51:00.000-07:00

9/11 never really meant that much to me. My response was, "well it finally fucking happened". That a group of disillusioned people from the middle-east (where we've been installing and backing brutal dictators since the 1950s, Shah anyone?) would attack the twin penile towers of economic might and the pentagon (whose use of "terror" in rhetoric is more thana little hipocritical) didn't shock me too much. Seeing the buildings fall, watching everyone around begin to call for blood, watching my country transform under the suposition that times had changed and the world was somehow suddenly different, these had an impact but not the actual attack.
I lived in London. I love those people. They make so much more sense, say more with better word choice, apologize when the catch you on the train. They are sweet kind people who lost their thirst for empire under the deluge of hitler's v1 and v2 rockets. Those people in no way deserve to be attacked. I was at a party the other night and someone said who does deserve to be attacked like that. ready...

We did you can't profit off of 5 dollar jeans and cheap oil prices and go around dicking with other countries governments, hand a loaded gun to one groups sworn mortal enemy, sashay around the stage with a hollow moral high ground and fire high impact explosive devices from a safe distance on your boat that hit hospitals and asprin factories and not expect to piss people off. But london wasn't about that. It made me think Bush could have been right, that we are in a great intractable conflict against a group of amoral warmongers (they like us apparently fight fire with fire). So the london thing made me pretty sad. Especially as all my fellow americans who called me an unpatriotic traitor because I didn't like the perversion of the memory of the sacrifice made by my grandfather's generation to support this war. Now all those same douchie dumbfucks are saying, "wait no weapons, and our soldiers are dying, this war isn't fun let's get out." And now alone I stand yelling that if we pull out the world will see a uniquely american clusterfuck in the middle east that we just abandoned, say like when we failed to help the kurds overthrow saddam and let them get wiped out during the last war?

And Sandra Day O'Connor stepped down. Not my favorite justice by any stretch of the imaginiation, however, pro-choice and about to be replaced. This got me primarily because of the crap rhetoric we've been fed election year after election year about a republican president killing Roe v. Wade. I didn't vote for Kerry and even now I dont' wish I did. I voted for some third party wacko who didn't lie to me throughout the campaign cause I didn't hear what he said. But a federal judge in Mass is considering overturning the military's don't ask don't tell policy as unconstitutional. (you really fucking think so, I can't believe they even have to try that one). So I was even more down.

But I'm not too bummed. Because I realize all of that stuff is very important but it's all "over there". IN my life I'm happy. I'm nice to the people around me. I try to help others. And I've recently started trading haiku's with a very very awesome girl in Illinois. I think that last bits the reason why the ever downward spiral of humankind isn't dampening my day. Just to know that another person, with compatible sexual bits could like the same things and have an artistic soul ( a kind soul too I think but that's hard to get over haiku's or e-mails.) Now here's the rub, this particular lady can only be found 950 miles away in Illinois the land of Lincoln. But the connection and occasional thoughts of her (a girl with a Star Trek DS9 character name as her e-mail monicker) have brought smiles enough to stave off the depressing happenings described above. And that's better than I managed during most of college, and I would even hazard to say, better than when I was with Anna. (An eye for a an eye leaves the whole world blind, except the guy who struck first who still has one eye, and in the land of the blind the one eyed man is king.) There's no escaping logic or purpose, but for now I'm content to smile in the face of it. And to the people of London and Sri Lanka, my thoughts and prayers are with you. And to whomever had the poor sense to hit the Brits, you just lost the only english speaking country against the war (Cananda doesn't count).
Cheers

A shout out to my boys in Jaffna

2005-04-27T14:29:00.000-07:00

To all the down-ass motherfuckers who I ain't with no more, keep your heads up and your dinners tasty. James Paul and his two compatriots, alleged knife fighters, alleged virgins, these boys formed an impenetrable posse keeping Sri Lankan danger at bay and Sri Lankan weed in supply. Ever since getting home all I can think of is how much fun those three would have in the US. The Muslim fellow, a quite culinary artiste' had suffered for his love in a teen-angsty burning fashion not too unlike my own. His family would not approve of his marriage to his destined love so he actuallized the pain physically. It's amazing what doesn't have to be said between two people. Sri Lanka had pillboxes full of Sri Lankan soldiers, all of whom weren't paying atttention to shit and just smiled and waved as two of the baddest white terrorists this side of Kashmir rolled through security checkpoint after security checkpoint.
What has been truly striking is not realizing how rich we all are, I could conceptualize that before although not accurately. REally it's been about realizing how far beyond their understanding of rich we are. The poorest person in america still has (albeit limited) access to one of the greatest systems of infrastructure of all time. The quality of our home construction is rediculous by their standards. That we have large paved roads that go directly to a destination. Even that we view ourselves as a distinct and single nation. All of these are just pre-requisites for being an American but not apparently for being a human being. I couldn't get over how naive I had been.
Another interesting shift was similar to what took place in Slovakia, visa vie realizing that we need so much less than we have to survive. But in Sri Lanka it was driven home how little control over the world humans have without our little toys. A cell phone, debit card, and car can prevent me from feeling vulnerable in the least. However, all the way over there, if any number of situations had gone wrong (highly unlikely due to the awesome nature of Sri Lankans) I would have had little to no recourse.
Another shout out if you will. To the mildly retarded beach bum of Nogumbo (spelling is probably off) who taught me again that the definition of fulfilling is entirely subjective. He ate and swam and played ball and that was fucking it man. He knew what he liked, he hooted hey at you until you did it, and he seemed genuinely enthused. With all of my priveledge and higher cognitive functions I had my hands full trying to stay out of my own way psychologically, "And if I say that I'm a wise man, it surely means that I don't know."
I had a ludicrous amount of dreams. Most of them involved outlandish travel scenarios with an assortment. Anna (my ex, for those of you who just happen to read this) made a few appearances. Dave Wald (Julia's dad) made a seriously fucking intense appearance (I will still swear it was Dave's spirit in my dream) wherein he told me how little time we have with the people we love and to treat them as if that moment is all they will remember "after". After was a very cryptic tone. Ryan Gantz showed up in a dream. An assortment of teachers showed up. But most entertaining was the dream in which Jeremy's dad was drunk as all fuck (I mean mad shithoused), he got us booted from this hotel and I had to find a way back to the airport in like 6 hours which involved stealing a motor scooter and sexually pleasing a too large woman. Every now and again Julia would pop into my dream, mostly to provide a dry color commentary.
I got a much greater sense of what it means to be me, the weight of my subjective reality. It is impossible to shed. You carry past experiences and memes with you forever. I think that might be a bit of Dave Wald's (note: this is just my fictionalization of him, I acknowledge that according to standard definitions this did not actually happen)after has to do with that weight. I don't want to harp on the ruined-by-hollywood idea of 32 grams, but that those who have passed on or that we leave behind may think ill of our earnest efforts at fellowship, that's a scary and tragic thought. So to all my boys both the Lions and Tigers keep your heads up and love your family group like today was yesterday, cause both your family and today are likely all you're going to get. To my american compatriots give to the tsunami victims cause they really did get fucked, thank god you live here, and the same thing about love and end times and the like. Also give me a call cause we should totally hang. yall know the cellie #. Sarong's are the most comfortable things ever too. I missed this weblog shit. (And you've got to promise never to tell the nascar fans, but I really missed america. Sri Lanka also definitely qualifies as the land of the weird, but it loses something in the translation). Oh and everybody read Generation Kill there's a lot of good humor on the part of the marines but there are good tear jerking moments for anyone who loves their country, fears their government and feels pain because of the process.
Cheers,
Well me of course

Here's to being Combustable.

2005-03-04T14:59:00.000-08:00

I may have a misspelling in my title but I care little. For single-handedly and with only the help of a band name I have created coolest new power-to-you-speak phrase since the advent of power-to=you-speak half a minute ago. My fellow HUMAN BEINGS, let not you station in life nore your spouses bitching about how much you spent on that phat ass new ride and those swinging kicks you had to get cause your last pair was downright hoopty, NAY. For now is the time for all of us, you and old, TO BE COMBUSTABLE. What does it mean to be combustable? Well I'll tell you... It means to be volatile, it means to be real, it means to be fresh, it's being funky funky def, and wicked wicked chill. Being combustable is like being the best least compromising you you can be. Being combustable you will set everyone around you off. It will be a hella good time to just sit and be motherfucka. I would say to all the people of the world be combustable. That's right, get right the fuck on down and blow your damn ass up. Show everybody that you aren't just some nobody chump.
On a side note, I've joined Hamas.

I haven't had much to SAY.

2005-02-27T07:41:00.000-08:00

Not lately anyways. When I heard about the death of the man who always seemed to say what I felt or vaguely knew I would feel and then later did, I didn't have much to say. I've been pouring through Dr. Thompson's books (the ones I own) in search of catchy or witty quotes, but those are all too good to be taken out of context (I feel it is important to note that I didn't feel this way in the least about the black methodists I wrote about in my thesis). The pen-ultimate dissenting view has chosen to relent and abandon this world (Sean Cummings is still the world's foremost dissenter, often for no good reason at all. Sorry Sean if you read this). I've been wondering lately if the late Dr. Thompson couldn't face the realities of this new world we've walked into. Where the screwheads not only run the world but everything is so interconnected that there is no "living off the grid" anymore. Sure you can get a job that pays cash and not pay taxes, but then you can't borrow money or own things, so you've become the equivalent of a 16th Century Peasant. Thompson lived his life straddling the mainstream and the far reaches of the ether (some will say he drifted too far to one side or the other) and that is no longer possible. In a country just as politically polarized as it was in the 1960s with absolutely none of the beauty or idealism, it is a grim place indeed to attempt to dilleniate between the harsh realities of life and the mytho poetic hooplah used to justify it. Thompson turned double speak on its ear and thrust himself into a narrative that wanted no part of him. He left a world in which the media would take him and spin him and he would be both less threatening and lint free. I will miss the infamous Dr. Gonzo. I recommend any of you who might find yourselves in the unfortunate position of reading this, check out a goole search for Hunter S. Thompson and ignore the obituaries, his recent writing is really illuminating and I didn't sumble on it untill he was gone.
I don't agree with Amyl Nitrate as a solution to a novel or the death of the american dream, but I certainly did applaude the message. Lately it's been all about which lies are more reprehensible, who's rationalization is more dangerous. Well in the big chill Jeff Goldbloom asserts that Rationalizations are more important than sex. To his skeptical audience he then asks, "when was the last time you went a week without a rationalization?". And lost in all of this is the doomed. The wage slaves who never signed a social contract with Uncle Sam and couldn't read it if they were given the chance. Those forgotten who are allowed to convince themselves that somehow they are getting over on someone. "Har Har" the joke would seem to be on us all. The most non-linear and vague of my posts but fuck it. It's the lords day, I've just decided to let my freak flag fly.(ssssssssshhhh he thinks this is new) So mourn Dr. Thompson and "eat a peach" MOTHERFUCKERS. God I love the USA.

BUT FUCK THE SCREWHEADS. AND JESUS IF HE REALLY SUPPORTS THEM
(don't worry me and JC are like this Yo !!!!!!)

What can you do in 4 Hours in Hong Kong

2005-02-05T13:35:00.000-08:00

In Short: Learn Chinese. I will be going to Sri Lanka. I have booked my plane fights which costs 1600 dollars and include 72 hours of travel, with a layover in Hong Kong and San Francisco. My Chinese layover is 4 hours which my travel agent assures me is enough time to leave the airport and see some of Hong Kong, I reamin a bit skeptical. My San Fran layover is like 10 hours. So if any of my faithful readers will be in the San Francisco area on April 19th, we should totally hang. ON that note if anyone has any suggestions on how to spend either layover I am all ears.
Tommorrow may well be the most important event in the annals of human history since last year's Superbowl, except this time, it's for a dynasty baby. That's right, my New England Patriots will be playing for their third title in 4 years and to claim their place among the greatest teams of all time. Very very intersting side note: with this win Bill Bellicheck will pass Vince Lombardi in playoff win percentage, leading some to conclude they will have to rename the damn trophy. For those of you unfamiliar with Vince Lombardi, he's the Dr. Dre of football coaches "he started this gansta shit, and this is the motherf***ing thanks he gets?" So I am mucho mucho amped for this clash of wills (ours being the more engorged with blood).
That last parenthetical aside leads me to a confession I've been avoiding for some time. The women on the talk shows are right, I do love my penis. This love is almost obsessive, well hell it is obsessive. Those same women would probably not be startled to find that I also mytholigize my genitals, but like the greeks, more in the vain of westerns. The junk gang was feared wherever they went. Lefty, a quick draw if ever their was one, always geting the trio into trouble. Righty, a college educated outlaw, he concocted the schemes while the final "member" busted at the seams. The leader of the junk gang was none other than blinky, a tireless desperado who was famous for ending each conflict as quickly as possible (often leaving the spectators wanting more). Together the junk gang roam the earth, looking for wrongs to right and imaginary urinal fires to fight. Looking for ladies in distress and more particularly, the particulars under their dress.
I have no idea where this post should go after that. I suppose I'll just sign off with the following, "wherever there are strippers, co-eds, punk chicks, goths,and corruptable catholic school girls, the junk gang will be there." My crotch is on a mission.
P. S. Does anybody else find it pretty sad that I'm a college graduate and not one of my posts has gone by without at least on dick joke. Well as they say, write about what you know...

I Bronzed Yesterdays' Paper

2005-02-01T06:31:00.000-08:00

I went out to dinner last night after work and read the newspaper. By the time I got to the article on page 9 about the Chinese trying to stop selective abortions I was crying. There were only two peices of bad news in my newspaper yesterday. The last time that was the case I was 13 and dealing with the Christian Science Monitor and My Weekly Reader. Which are still two stellar publications especially the CSM. But anywho, yesterday was a good day for news because I've heard people say that more Iraqi's voted than did during our last election, then I turned off Fox News and listened to NPR. Their high estimates on NPR was 8 million out of 28 million Iraqi's voted, not more than in the US.
But here's the rub, no matter how many people voted, Bush might be right. Not about the war, or civil liberties, or abortion, certainly not god, or grammar. But about a proactive America helping to establish democracy around the world the pig fucker could be right. Except, I'm pretty sure in my Poly Sci classes I got the distinct impression that democracy had to be seized by the people, who then go to far and kill other people, who are killed by those people who kill the other people, untill the mothers and priests finally get together and say enough is enough. But maybe this whole screwed up plan will work. More likely we'll be in Syria and Iran before the end of the decade, and in twenty years Walmart will run the country or at least be the official sponsor of the House of Representatives.
There's other good news. Canada is bidding to become the only country in the world where I could fuck a man while smoking a joint. Whacky ass Canucks with their state Healthcare system. If only Canada was near the equator. Cause who the hell wants to live in a cold as fuck country where your sidewalk is often just a block of ice. Course recently the same could be said of New England and the Southeast, except weeds a crime and sodomy is still sodomy. Miraculously we still use that stupid word to mean, I believe, any interesting sexual act.
But now for what I really want to talk about. Jacko. I know I know. Pepe, we hear way too much about Wacko Jacko. Well boys and girls you're ignorant. You dont' really understand what that man has been through. He is so lucky the damn cops even came and photographed his genitals, that's how famous this man is. I take my junk out and people run for the hills, not Jacko man, celebrity is kick ass. So when Michael says he'll get off I believe him. Bush couldn't find the weapons and he's still doing ok. So Jacko can probably molest 3.6 boys before he'll go down. Or join the One Holy and apol... Catholic Church. Till next time kiddies when I do promise more dick and fart jokes. I'll be reading the paper and crying into my Turkey Club and Bass. (ale, cause a Turkey Club with Fish doesn't sound too good)It's nice to have a day of hope and good news as I stomp the terra, trying to see above the crowd of lemmings in the land of the weird.

Tsunami victims ain't got nothing on me

2005-01-14T13:57:00.000-08:00

It is raining. It has been raining since the day I was born and it doesn't show signs of stopping. That's a bit over the top but god damn. It's been the worst wet 5 days that have kept me from playing Golf. The Lesbian office manager who tells me what to do is gone and my parents seem on the verge of World War 3. I feel like a teenager again. My father even went so far as to say "I think I'll be drinking tonight." For a recovered alcoholic this shows that things aren't skipping along too smooth. But on a more positive note The heavy regimine of blunts has helped quell the uprising in my loins. That rash is almost history, along with my sperm count. Stoners don't need condoms. I also read in the news recently that we've stopped looking for weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. I sincerely thank the good lord that they didn't feel the need to plant any. Although that they thought "what the fuck, we've already fought the war and won the election so lets just stop the charade, no one will care that there weren't any weapons" really scares me. Although what's even more scary is that the powers at be have been spot on with every gamble and every cynical judgement they've made about the american people. If only their underestimation of the Iraqi's had gone as smoothly.
Smooth is a good word. It's enticing, kinda like smoothness. It also means something, unlike a slew of other words (such as slew for example). Smooth doesn't just mean not rough, no, it implies a sheer surface that won't bring you down with friction but excite you with ideas like perpetual motion machines and a person's ass. Smooth is also a way of describing a person. A smooth person is more than style and good transitions, a smooth person is a sort of social demi-god. Smooth also features in the song Smooth Criminal. Which hails from the golden era when Micheal Jackson made movies with children instead of sleeping with them. I keep searching for a picture of his penis on all the celebrity mugshot websites but to no avail. With that pic, some superbowl stills and enough photoshop skills I could totally make a flash Micheal-Janet incest video. anyways, I don't have anything much of substance to report other than my parents are fighting, I'm kinda down, Micheal Jackson's a perve, the weapons of mass destruction were under Saddam's mattress and we missed it, Bad was an amazing album (which doesn't excuse molestation, although R Kelley certainly seems to get away with it), oh yeah, and keep it smooth baby ... real smooth. To all my loyal readers, I'll catch you cats on the flip flop.

-D.J. Smooth (who's really upset that mommy and daddy aren't getting along right now)

Happy New Jeer

2005-01-05T11:25:00.000-08:00

Ben has left. He has flown back to the woods of western PA where single handedly he will attempt to discover if he can feasibly create a hypothetical co-op. Ben's life is so post-modern it hurts. But that's not what I want to talk about. I will miss my friend but more than that I will miss making fun of his family's financial difficulties. During this past two weeks I have come to discover that making fun of Ben for being really poor is good good fun. It is made all the more fun because Ben's family isn't really poor. So throwing comments at Ben about how he can't afford water, not only passes the time but eases my feelings of inadequecy regarding my choad as well*. But now ben has left and I find myself with only the choice of becoming a repre- repere-... bad person for now when I mock the poor they could very well be poor (and that just isn't as funny). And speaking of the seriously unfortunate, I was planning to travel to Sri Lanka in April, I was wondering if people think I should still go or avoid the disaster area. It will certainly be less picturesque but I also imagine it might be more interesting. I don't mean to perpetuate the illusion that anyone actually reads this thing, but if someone does read this, Should I still go to Sri Lanka? Oh and while I'm asking questions, I've got this golf ball textured rashlike thing on my scrotum and I've been told by my mom that it will only go away with a special topical ointment, but do you think I could just get rid of it with some peroxide and a heavy regimine of blunts? And one final question, Should I continue to live on Cape Cod or should I move south and sell flood insurance? (yes those two are mutually exclusive) But I don't come armed with only questions for my millions of loyal imaginary readers, ho no, I also come with an answer to a question as old as wireless modems themselves:
It was stupid cousin larry (you know, the one who fell off the bleachers at the homecoming game and hasn't been quite right since) yeah that dumb fuck was the one that let the damn dogs out. So if you want to know it was dumb fuck Larry, but don't worry, we broke all his fingers with a tack hammer so the madness and repetitious chorus will soon abate. That's all for this arbitrary slice of 4th dimensional space, until next time, give to the poor people in SouthEast Asia, hunt Jeb Bush with a high powered automatic rifle which it is your constitutional right to have in order to defend your home and family from either King George or the damn homos. Although it's altogether most likely that the real threat to your home and family which necessitates your gun ownership is posed not by the ethnics, the sodomizers, or the government but from Dumb Fuck Cousin Larry who just happens to be a member of the local Gun Club.

*A choad is a penis that is more wide than it is long, generally being only 1-2 inches long and rather wide. I thought a little reference info would help clear up any confusion. So while I do in fact have a choad and it does make me feel bad, I don't worry so so much, cause I had a surgery last year to make my penis taste like lindor truffles and had a barometric pressure gauge so my cock can give accurate meteorological information including wind sheer and give a five day forecast. I am more than I was but I am not yet all that I will be.

Transcendental Masturbation

2004-12-14T08:38:00.000-08:00

Yesterday Ben returned from Pennsylvania. It's good to have a compadre but oddly that's not what I want to discuss. I remember my first trip to Pennsylvania, the vania had me thinking of Dracula. I remember my first sleepless night in life, it was spent on a cot in an Econo Lodge listening to my father snore and thinking there was no way even Dracula would wake him up. I thought I heard milk curdeling screams throughout the night, I jumped and started and had no idea what to do. During those long hours I also masturbated for the first time. I discovered myself and the pleasure I could give to that reflexivly conjugated me. Thank you pennsylvania, and thank you Dracula you're still the best fantasy I've ever had.

My First Post

2004-12-08T09:10:00.000-08:00

I now have a blog, apparently. I started it to respond to something on Andy's blog and now I have one too. I think I'll probably use this sorta often seeing as how I'm frequently sitting at work and don't want to write Leases or whatever. While I have the mic for the first time I'd like to say thanks to my millions of fans, thanks for making all of this possible. The support you Desperate Gasp fans have shown has been overwhelming. One thing though, please stop sending three-bean casseroles to my house, I can't eat them and they're piling up and starting to smell. In reality now, I'm selling Real Estate (or trying to). I really get the feeling that Real Estate is the reason god put me on this earth (beyond hitting the bitches and flippin' the switches of course). So if you need a house, or just a taste of my popular/sexy/divine ass give us a call. I think I'm going to name my first album "my popular/sexy/divine ass". By the by, Belle and Sebastian's "If You're Feeling Sinister" is totally where it's at.
"If you're feeling sinister,
Go off and see a minister,
He'll try in vain to take away
the pain of being a hopeless unbeliever.
La La LA LA La"
Makes good chuckles come up that taste like happy.
Cheers