Category Archives: My Daily Life

brian_nichols

Religious fundamentalists are hereby invited to graciously extract peices of corn from my feces, or, Rippin’ Nazis-for-Jesus a new a-hole

The Atlanta legal system got quite the bitch slap last Friday as a judge, court reporter, and 2 officers were brutally gunned down by an insane rape suspect, and overall blood clot among the human species by the name of Brian Nichols. Now, I know you may have thought what I did upon hearing his last name of “Nichols” for the first time. But, this person turned out to be of no relation to the white bread, lawless douche bag Nichols, who we all knew liked blowing federal buildings to hell. This was an entirely different, African-American lawless douche bag named Nichols. Now that we’ve got that straight, let’s continue.

Now from what I understand, this 210 lbs., 6′1 brutal piece of spooge overpowered the (1) FEMALE cop (shocking) escorting him, swiped her gun, shot the judge, court reporter, and a deputy while fleeing the scene, which was an 8-story journey to ground level. What-the-everloving-fuck?? I guess I might understand the cops and the judge, but A COURT REPORTER?!? Why did he feel the need to off the secretary of the court? Typing too loud? Dammit, what a tool. Then after pistol-whipping a reporter for a car (in my opinion, the only honorable thing he did), ‘thug-style’ Nichols bolted off, and was successful in evading the keystone-cop-based chase strategies of the seemingly inept Altanta authorities (who i’m quite positive, in a way paralleling the movie “Deliverance”, were just aching to provide Mr. Nichols with a well-deserved complimentary sodomization via shotgun for having such a purty mouth), for a least a day. Note to self: if you do decide to commit a crime, do it in Atlanta – For as long as you have access to an automobile, and can simply drive away, the Altanta P.D. will not give you any means for alarm, because obviously, THEY DO NOT POSSESS SQUAD CARS NOR CHOPPERS TO PURSUE YOU WITH. Hey, I monitored the live feed on my computer for hours. And for hours, I was treated to awe-inspiring, action-packed LIVE feeds of…traffic on I-95. WTF?? Nothing more from this incident turned up until the next morning, when police had shit-for-brains held up in an apartment complex where he had consequently taken a hostage. Oh, that crazy Mr. Nichols. No. I’m serious – HE’S FUCKING CRAZY.

To conclude, the situation ended peacefully (to my unfortunate chagrin), and scumsucker surrendered to authorities (whom I can only wish gave him SOME semblence of good ol’ fashioned ‘patented police ass-whuppin’ behind closed doors, away from press, being careful to leave no signs of bruising). The hostage is now being reported in every shitty mainstream news source in the country (honestly, is there any other kind?) as the person who convinced him to surrender. Yeah, right – and Carrot Top is a misunderstood comic genius. How does she claim to have survived this tumultuous situation? Through the guidance of JESUS, of course! *sigh* Yep. Sadly, it’s true. She was interviewed, expressing that divine intervention saved her god-fearin’ behind from being victim #5 by using her as a vessel to talk to her captor and tell him that if he gave up, there just might be a chance for him to bring others, possibly incarcerated, to Jesus Christ (convert fast, fucker – because once the court gets ahold of your nasty ass again, you’re as good as burnt bacon, biatch!). Alrightey then! Well, I could do nothing but shake my head. I’m quite content letting people wallow in their own self-delusions, as long as it doesn’t harm anyone, or I don’t have to deal with any unnecessary bullshit. Realistically, i’d lay the odds down on Nichols simply being stuck with a case of common sense, coming to a harsh realization he was truly fucked, thus concluding that eating a diet of nothing but lead sandwiches might not be too appealing. The hostage in the apartment with him dodged the bullet and simply got lucky. Good on her. You would THINK it all ends there…

But, oh noes, bitches. You didn’t think the religious zealots would let the public shift it’s attention away without someone having the last word, didya? Attractive and successful african american, PLEASE! I was on this message board I visit from time to time this evening, and some clueless goddamned Christard was waxing on about how incredible it was that a Christian saved the day! Yay for we who are god’s chosen people! Yes, she faked outrage noting in a half-assed sidebar, it was indeed ‘regrettable’ that lives were taken, but they are now ‘blessed’ to living eternal lives in heaven! She brayed on, saying the real credit goes to this woman, one of “god’s people”, for ’standing up’ to her captor by talking to him. You know, as opposed to, say, not talking to him (was there really a choice in the matter if he engaged her in conversation??). I suppose the alternative would have been to say nothing and soil herself, but chances are, after some time, there would have been a stench. And I myself can’t stand stinky people, and i’m sure some freak with a pistol would be even less tolerant, have eventually gotten pissed, and let her have it on principle. The silly fundamentalcase whore-for-jesus kept on practically non-stop with ‘jesus this’ and “lord that’ that it began to actually sound like gloating. Well, that was it for me, and I realized that I was the one to finally feed her a case of shut the fuck up, because no one else seemed to have the spine to do it….

Religious Zealot: Isn’t it AMAZINg waht the Word of God can do in the hands of a REAL Christian? (posts link to a feel-good, religious-based hack job of a story)

Me: The title of this thread is misleading. If it was taken from a direct headline, then the editor needs to be taken out back and spayed/neutered with an icepick. I think she didn’t save anything but her own butt.

RZ: It shows what kind of spirit you have that you won’t give this brave woman any credit.

Me: Credit for what? Surviving? At least she made it! Excuse me if i’m still sympathizing here with the families of the victims, who just irrevocably lost a son/daughter/husband/wife today because of a selfish and pointless act by a piece of human refuse whose got a grudge against the legal system, all for simply doing their jobs. Yes, what a unfeeling prick I am…

RZ: Well, at least now TEHY are on a first class trip to meet the ONE, and be rewarded with ETERNAL LIFE, what about you? I’m assuming yor an athiest, so what would you do in the situation? worship yourself?

Me: What-in-the fuck are you talking about, you slobbering halfwit. Stay off the jesus juice, woman, and reread what I wrote.

RZ: i see no harm in giving her credit where someone believes there credit is due. she was made a hostage gave credit to God, so why do you have a problem with her doing that?

Me: Well, I don’t. What I have a big problem with, is that fundamental-cases such as yourself are spinning this into a victory for your religious ideology, seemingly glossing over the utter tragedy of the situation by issuing meaningless blanket statements to the effect of: “well, they’re going to heaven anyway, so it’s ok”. Did it ever cross the barren wasteland that is your noodle that perhaps the victims *gasp* WEREN’T all Christians? Maybe you need to step back and put your idol worship on the back burner, and look at this from a purely humanistic viewpoint to see the bigger picture.

RZ: Sorry, Christ is second to no one. With Christ, one has power. Without him, they are nothing, dung.

Me: Funny you should mention the word “dung”. Because it dovetails nicely into my definition of your attitude towards this whole ordeal. I would have chosen a slightly different word however, a more colorful word that shares the same meaning, but brought into fruition by the bovine species. I mean, aren’t you JUST ECSTATIC that this piece of steer matter will be able to share his ‘good news’ with the other dumb suckers in the pen? I suppose there’s NO LIMIT to the amount of fuck-ups one can be responsible for once one accepts jeezus, right? In turn, maybe he can convince his new cellmates to subscribe to this fairy tale, and strengthen the ring of circular logic your theology seems to embrace. Moreover, maybe some of these new converts will be inspired to be good little felons, and possibly get out early, so that they can get ANOTHER opportunity to further pollute the gene pool with their toxic seed, or perhaps wreak EVEN more death and destruction upon our society! PRAAISE JEEZUS!

Now do you understand how nutty you sound?

Well, I ruffled the zealot’s feathers too much to prompt a response. I guess thats a blessing in itself. Gah, sometimes I hate people…

rant_image

Gas Prices to rise $.24 per gallon in the next few days, or life in America will once again imitate art once gas becomes as rare as a golden phallus, and we start beating each other to death for it like the plot to “The Road Warrior”

Okay, so maybe i’m overreacting a tad, but once the black tar heroin kicks in, one cannot become responsible for the out-of-control verbal swarm that elicits from one’s speech-creating oriface! yeah! So, as usual (I apologise for breaking into Mr. Porter’s journal entry so rudely, as he is undoubtedly thrilling the pants off of you as he brings forth another literary masterpiece sure to astound scores of captive audiences, such as 13 year old goth fanatics, online role-playing gamer virgins, and the vast adulation from trailor park communities around the country. I felt it necessary to step in and finally introduce myself – I am Mr. Porter’s (on the job, we call him by pet name only, mainly “dick-face”) conscience. The reason i’m here is to tell the good people and loyal journal readers that Mr. Porter is really not the arrogant, know-it-all, sarcastic jackhole that he may sometimes portray himself to be. In reality, he’s a kind, sensitive soul, who secretly collects care bears figurines, watches Oprah, and loves Jesus. Anyone who attempts to debate this obvious fact, even Mr. Porter himself, is to be severely beaten and ignored like a filthy heathen, then proclaimed a baldfaced liar. In my efforts to keep Mr. Porter from a fiery demise, I will be adding my own commentary from time to time, but only in dire emergency when we feel Mr. Porter has overstepped the boundaries of morality and good taste. Or, its a Tuesday.) here in Ca-li-forn-ee, with news like the aforementioned, we get to kneel & take double turns being molested by a giant, non-lubricated platinum Hummer2 plaque in our collective poopers, in regards to the already obscene cost of living rates here. But it’s the Bay Area, don’t you know? Living here is a privelige, not a right, you swine.

As much as I LOVE to bitch about things, nothing gives me greater satisfaction then pointing out the sheer idiocy I continuously witness being a Bay Area resident. Nowhere do I see any nearby offroading sites for people who own SUVs in this place. Yet, Escaclods (Erm, we believe he respectively means the Cadillac Escalades), H2s, Tahunkajunks (Chevy Tahoes), and Expedishits (Ford Expeditions) seem to run apeshit here. I swear, they multiply like filthy rabbits. It seems I can’t travel 2 blocks anymore without having to give my antilocks a stern workout due to some asian housewife (Having been in a 3-year relationship with an asian-american woman, Mr. Porter understands and empathizes with the unwarranted stereotypes asian-americans sometimes endure that are mindlessly tossed around by uncaring individuals), who weighs in at about a buck-o-one, and is as tall as most 11-year-olds, that is incapable of handling a simple merge in her military-inspired econo-box, due to her rear view mirror being located 4 feet from her line-of-sight. It’s marvelous, believe me. These assholes, who can’t properly steer their 2-ton perversions to transportation in traffic, are the people I see bitching the most about the gas increase. Hell – maybe you didn’t need to purchase that 6 mile-per-gallon shit heap to pick up your groceries and the kids in, did you, ass face? You can’t drive for piss anyway, so buy a goddammed prius, and shut the fuck up, is what I have to offer. That way, you’ll get four times the gas mileage, you’re smaller, so I can just run your dumb ass into an embankment if you piss me off.(We assure the reader that Mr. Porter advocates no such thing, but rather, is simply just a misunderstood writer. Your must forgive his seemingly offensive dialogue, as he knows no better. He is merely offering a lighthearted perspective using an innocent ’satirical irony’ approach within the confines of said previous commentary to illicit a response. He has absolutely no talent in this arena, but we just don’t have the heart to tell him yet. There is no underlying premise. He’s not even intelligent enough to know the meaning of the word, folks. We swear.)

We in the “Silicon Valley” like to taut ourselves as intellectuals, and consistently praise its residents as being smarter than the average bear. (READ: he has absolutely no evidence to back the previous statement up. please ignore.) Sorry folks, this is what you really get. We bitch and moan about our electricity rates being out-of-hand, meanwhile, we run non-energy efficient appliances, have 7 computers running 24/7, blare our 55 inch plasma screen tvs when no one is in the room to watch it, leave lights on with no regard, and have the largest, most obnoxious X-mas displays every year. (READ: everything said writer is guilty of; and even has outstanding bench warrants for) Go figure. Its like the lions in Africa complaining that there isn’t nearly enough gazelles to satisfy their 3-prey-a-day habit. Madness.

I suppose, in my purely drug-addled tirade (He’s being facetious. He is way too pussy to ever try the H…fucktard.), I may have spouted off some things that may seem too incredible to believe, I empathize, bitches. I empathize. If you are a Bay Arean, you feel this pain.(this guy is completely off his tree…bid him goodnite, kiddies!)

And I’m out. Peace. Bitches. (have a lovely day!)

HST

Another of my Heroes has Left this Mortal Coil: R.I.P., You Magnificent Bastard

I’ve been shocked into a ever-deepening valley of despair over the passing of one of the most influential literary icons of my lifetime – Hunter S. Thompson.

When I logged into Farkistan this morning, the first headline I would see today totally cold cocked me upside my head. Just a few words, short and sweet; “Hunter S. Thompson Kills Himself”. I instantly felt frozen and detached from reality – ‘Gonz…is dead?’, I said aloud. In the back of my mind, I asked this very same question repeatedly, as if trying to convince myself that the words I was reading were being projected into my retinas by some deeply embedded sadistic, psychosomatic element of my own persona. I attempted to rub away the ghastly dialogue from my eyes, but it persisted, like the bearable but completely uncomfortable searing sensation of a nasty sunburn.

‘Duke’s’ voice has been silenced once and for all, and the literary genious of this Magnificent Bastard will never be duplicated, or equaled. At once I felt my despair slip into fear and helplessness. Whoa. I never thought I would have taken it this hard. This was MUCH more serious than just another writer passing. This was the extinction of THE pioneer – THE architect of thought-provoking, ‘in your face’ social commentary – The great “Gonz” himself. Damn, I thought. ‘What the fuck are we in for now?!?’, I said aloud to no one.

No doubt, many love or hate him, but the respect for his literary prose will forever surpass personal boundaries and generation gaps. Deeply embedded expose’s like “Hell’s Angels”, uncover raw elements of human behaviour usually stifled in other forms of literature. Things like excess, intimidation, manipulation, rage, humiliation, general debauchery, and instinctive violence are all par for the course in Thompson’s world – as nature intended. This author brings reality to the reader’s doorstep in a fashion so few can ever hope to realise. His quick witted talent for storytelling, leaving nothing disclosed from the reader, allows for the imagination to become almost fused to the story, like cokeheads become entertwined in their habit.

The substance-induced journeys, like “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” take the reader through all of the insanity and moments of clarity in himself and others around him, no matter how absurd, and scoops us into his psychedelic quests for a story. And it never fails to provoke thought. Sometimes, the alliteration is so raw, it beckons macabre thoughts, you know, the type that makes us look at traffic accidents and such. And before you realise it, the ridiculousness of it all suddenly makes the reader laugh out loud. That, to me, is the inspiration of Hunter S. Thompson.

R.I.P. Dr. Thompson. You sure had prose like a motherfucker.

“There he goes. One of God’s own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die.” -H.S.T

“I have spent half my life trying to get away from journalism, but I am still mired in it – a low trade and a habit worse than heroin, a strange seedy world full of misfits and drunkards and failures.” -H.S.T

“If there is, in fact, a Heaven and a Hell, all we know for sure is that Hell will be a viciously overcrowded version of Phoenix.” -H.S.T

“Every now and then when your life gets complicated and the weasels start closing in, the only cure is to load up on heinous chemicals and then drive like a bastard from Hollywood to Las Vegas … with the music at top volume and at least a pint of ether.” -H.S.T., Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

“As your attorney, it is my duty to inform you that it is not important that you understand what I’m doing or why you’re paying me so much money. What’s important is that you continue to do so.”-H.S.T.’s Lawyer, Oscar Acosta, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

Get on your party dress, ’cause we be celebratin’ another year into extinction!

New Year’s Eve, baby! Here we are. Holy shit, I can’t believe this year is already coming to it’s end. 2004 Sped by me like a fat man on his way to the all-you-can-eat buffet. And in this circumstance, I am shoved away and left bruised and broken in the aftermath, a confused creature, petrified forever by morbid obesity.

My 2004 Recap
This year might have slipped away, but it was one craaaazy effing year. We were still very much involved in the pointless Iraqi war, losing countless more soldiers every day to local ‘insurgents’, long after hostilities were reported to have ceased. Bin Laden, much like now, is still at large, still keeping in contact via Al Jazeera’s airings of his vhs tapes periodically. So, adding much insult to injury, we still get to see the 9/11 murderer alive and well on videotape every few months, ya know, just in case we were missing his presence….grr. Sadly, nothing has presently changed in this situation. That’s our tax dollars at work, boys and girls. Areas once reported as ’secured’ in Iraq are still swarming with rebel and insurgent factions not exactly pleased with what the good ‘ol US of A is doing there. Uh, what the phuq are we doing there again? Oh yeah, instilling democracy and goodwill, I keep forgetting, I beg your pardon…

Collectively, this country done lost it’s muthaphuqin mind this year, and I think it all began during the super bowl. Yes, we all remember the nation shitting itself over a “wordrobe malfunction”, don’t we? Well, I believe that was just the little jostle that broke our spirits sending us spiraling into madness and hell shortly thereafter. Given a strong shove into the spotlight by a religious right hellbent on pursuing the agenda of “family values” (gawd, I really dislike those two words together), they chided The Federal Communications Commission and it’s board of unelected officials into deciding enough is enough with all the hedonism and general depravity thats has been going on fer too long in this countrah, goddimit!! *cue American Flag* And they started cracking heads, or in this case, pocketbooks.

Before you knew it, Janet J.’s blurry tit was being played every 15 minutes 24-7 on any network having anything remotely to do with reporting. The FCC vowed for blood, and the media machine gave it’s full attention to this important new ground shaking issue. And why? WTF? Do you suppose it is so crucial to etch it into our minds as the Worst Possible Thing to Ever Happen in the History of the Nation (*clearing throat* well, with the exception of 9/11, of course) ? Hefty fines were levied on radio, tv, and even certain cable outlets all for offending certain sensibilities in newly made up ’standards of broadcast integrity’. Some TV shows got yanked. Radio DJs got huge fines and some even got the boot because of something they did earlier in their careers that may or may not have violated the code of ethics buried within these new retroactively-enforceable standards. No you didn’t read incorrectly, retroactive. So now, they can sue your balls off for saying ‘penile implant’ at a time when no one knew what it mean’t, or cared, or much less made an effort to bitch about it. Whats more, these ‘rules’ are about as unclear, unequal, and as non-existant as the pink elephants I see when I drink the magic purple juice. Ain’t being a gov’t official great kids? Mainstream network media hasn’t, and will never broadcast the same way again after this, mark my words, people.

Oh well. The hell with them. With exception to big games like the super bowl, I don’t believe I watched any “must-see-tv”, or tuned in for some hard-hitting news programs from the networks in 2004. The entertainment quotient network tv presently provides has been bottom-of-the-barrel for so long, i’ve grown apathetic to it’s imminent demise. Good riddance, I say. Let the bleeding begin – tell the bible thumpers to take them over in the name of jesus and show morally uplifting docudramas from dusk to dawn for all I care. However, I will offer my opinion that this particular JanetGate Incident was, and still is, re-goddamn-diculous. This year painted a great picture of our nation as being the truly litigious society some have always feared we’d become. We are collectively making the concept of accountability obsolete. Yessir, before we realized, the “PC police” had already infiltrated our humble society covertly, and taken up roots.

The 2004 Summer Olympics took place in Athens, with much todo, and aside from the previous reports of it being underfunded, behind schedule, and lacking in sufficient security, it was a hit. I especially enjoyed the women’s beach volleyball. They should have no other events. Just the volleyball. Oh, and maybe swimming. Love the outfits…;)

It was an election year, and as expected, there was a lot of campaigning going on, and as if predetermined for chaos, it became ugly quite fast and deliberately. The choices in candidates sucked the high hard one again, but I was optimistic that after these previous 4 years, we as a society still maintained a tiny semblance of common sense, and would vote this over privileged idiot out of office. I was dead wrong, and we (well, not me personally) elected to re-entrust an man who has provided example after example of why he should have no business in politics (unintelligent, arrogantly starting unfounded wars, running us into economic mayhem, etc.) to keep our nation’s affairs in order – again. *sigh* Forgive us, for we know not….not….we know nothing.

The Giants had a great season, but fell short, as predicted, once again this year. At least spring training is in a few months. The super bowl, in just a few weeks, could prove very interesting. The 49ers and Dolphins became 2004’s worst football teams – yay! Professional Hockey evaporated this year, with no encouraging insight for next year. Too bad – I was really starting to enjoy it after attending my first games in person last year. Instead, we got preempted with 24-7 basketball because they started their season early – meh. Professional basketball generally eats raw sausage now that basketball players have lowered themselves and their sport to common street criminal level, and vice versa. The image of “thugball” was further reinforced with the fan/player basket-brawl starring Ron Artest, the Fightin’ Pacers and your Detroit Pist-offs. Beautiful job, you jackoffs. Maybe this is why for the first time EVER, since introducing professional players into the Olympic Games, the U.S. came in THIRD in the sport of basketball. When image overrides the importance of the game, why bother with the charade?

Oh, and we got robots safely on the surface of the planet Mars. Tres’ cool. Talk at you again next year!

It comes but once a year, or, two notches above the big 3-0

Yep. i’m 32 today. Officially an ‘old guy’ to the 20-somethings, I think i’m still in pretty good shape. Truth be told, you haven’t lived until you get this old whippersnappers, you just haven’t. (Jesus, i’m starting to sound like an adult. meh..)

I had to work today, as my current place of employment has shunned me by not declaring today a holiday, and sending everyone home (I keed, I keed…)! Oh well. I don’t have any plans for my big day, and as usual, don’t really celebrate (my own) birthdays. My friends, however, have planned a little get together in my honor after work, so i’ll keep ya updated….

X-Mas Eve: what a time to be sitting alone at a computer screen

Merry Christmas Eve, ya yuletide kooks! I hope all is still well with both of my readers. The cutoff time for my dsl line supposedly ends 2 days from now. I’ve made my order to receive new phone and dsl services online, so hopefully my disconnection to cyberspace will be a short hiatus. Life is very difficult for me right now, as i’ve had to sink every last dollar of dough i’ve made thus far (read: just got my first already spent paycheck yesterday) into bills. After all is said and done, and everything is paid for, I think i’ll still be in a deficit for a while. Fuck. There goes eating, I guess…(I keed). But, at least my lovely children (doggies) are well cared for, and they keep me going.

The holiday season is a trip! Year after year, we Americans nearly soil ourselves anticipating this collectively grandiose year-ending celebration of excess and gross materialism. Shit, some of us even attribute relevant meaning from religious icons we worship! Mostly fabricated by big business, X-mas remains a phenomena, in that it never fails to lull us, the American body public, into a mass euphoria derived from the media’s overuse of mass marketing this time of year. Said marketing tends to enforce sappy, family-orientated kitch covertly engineered to pull at heartstrings and induce friendly feelings towards family members that you never speak to throughout the other 95% of the year. Tie in the seemingly subliminal product placement, aggressive manipulation of facts projecting gross consumption as something everyone is doing, and you’ve got X-mas in a nutshell. As much as I am ambivalent to admit as such, I too have been duped time and time again like a drooling moron.

But, i’m not going to get all militant scrooge on you. Allow me to pull whats left of my holiday good cheer out of the storage room. It’s X-mas eve, you know. I am lonely since my breakup, but my family and friends have been in constant contact, and great in boosting my spirits. Kudos to everyone in my little circle-you know who you are, and you know I love ya. I’m going to chill out here tonight with members of my wonderful canine family, crack open a bottle of vino, pop some chemically altered microwave popcorn, and watch “A Christmas Story” for the 9 millionth time on my big screen (”you’ll shoot your eye out!”). It just doesn’t get any better than this, folks. Merry X-mas, everyone. Thanks for reading!

Sorry for the Hiatus, or, Welcome to My Nightmare

Forgive the delay in updating, but much shit has happened as of late, which has subsequently prevented me from doing anything website related. First off, me and Lynda have split up.

Now, i’m not going to be petty, get into semantics, or point out who is at fault. I think our feelings are pretty mutual, and that the time to simply depart this relationship had come, and that we needed to put this chapter of our lives behind us. I believe we still love each other very much, but the torch that signified our romance has burned out. She has subsequently taken up residence elsewhere (read: moved out), and I wish her nothing best of luck. I won’t bother sugar coating it – these past few weeks have been a rather shitty and depressing state of affairs. My little family that once was, is now broken. I’ve nothing left but tiny shreds in which to piece something together. It sucks ass, but I’ve just got to get it together and move on. I, for one, cannot wait to see what this sudden change of life has in store for me.

So now, i’m officially single again, just before the holiday season. Nice, eh? Nothing like a little depression and fear for my future, coupled with anxiety afflicted by a new found loneliness to fuel holiday cheer. Happy fuckin’ Holidaze, baby! At least I get to spend quality time with my babies (dogs) and dote on them over X-mas and New Years. One of my beloved pups will end up living with the now “ex” girlfriend after the new year, so I have a few weeks until I become a complete friggin’ basket case over it. I beg for strength.

Okay, i’m done with the self-deprecating downer bullshit. If you’ve bothered to read this far, congratulations. You are even more of a pathetic bastard than I, which subsequently, just made me feel a lot better about myself, thanks! Anywho, I just wanted to give my faithful readers (both of you) an update as to my absence around here lately. Now you know, freaks, so shaddap about it, or I will be forced to kill you where you stand, heathen.

Believe it or not, aside from my life taking a crash-and-burn detour, some good shit has happened to me as well. First, I found a steady gig making decent money, so having to seriously consider the exciting occupation of ‘hobo’ is no longer necessary. Its a very laid-back job with a small lighting management firm. The operation is similar in size to New Century, but the drama is almost non-existent, and the folks I work with are much more fun to be around. I’ve taken over the house (another good thing), and once the piles from our separation have eroded, this place might truly be a nice livable sanctuary once again.

On to other things: things are sorta ‘too quiet’ on the homeland front, as the only activity currently seen from this gov’t. administration is resignation. Yes, nine cabinet members have been replaced as of so far. Among others, victims of the fallout consisted of Colin ‘we insist the source was accurate’ Powell and Johnny ‘homeland security or death’ Ashcroft. Maybe we’ll see another six months or so of nothing to write home about from this staff, until the next earth-shattering media significant event happens (another 9/11? – adorn tinfoil hat now.) which will help instill our beliefs that God only blesses the red, white, and blue, and that we will fucking kick ass no matter what, so don’t even try screwing with us. Oh, and buy American-made, and all that…

Oh, and a shout out to my brother Matt, who’s band, Sator Square has just finished an album. Here’s to hoping they get a signed contract quickly so that I can be their roadie and quit updating this stupid website, and bang hot chicks. Yep, I said it, i’m a single guy now, I said bang hot chicks. It’s like the 1st rule of the rockstar handbook. A side job to the musician, if you will. They must bang hot chicks, or dudes, depending on your style, but they must be hot…and easy. You’re all thinking the same bullshit, don’ lie! On that crude barrage of profanities, i’m outta tha hizzy like the chronic makes Snoop dizzy.

Peace out, yo.

Turkey Day 2004 Highlights

We got back from our trip to Az. late this evening, and I must say it was fun. We ended up driving a different route this time, since my folk’s new place is farther north up the state. Instead of the standard I-5 to I-10 course, we ended up taking I-46 to I-99 through Bakersfield, which eventually led us onto I-40 through Barstow, Needles, dumping us into the northern part of Az. I can’t quite tell if we saved any time versus the usual route, but it was much more scenic, and COLD. We ended up leaving San Jose on Tuesday evening (midnight – technically Wed. morning) and arrived in Prescott around 11:30 (10 1/2 hrs. factoring the time change). Overall, not too bad, I suppose.

However, almost 90% there, we stopped in Kingman for fuel. Being the usual dumb ass Californian I am, I was, of course, driving in my shorts and a t-shirt (hey, the car was warm inside). I noticed that when I pulled into the station, the town was very dark and shadowed by fog, very comparable to what you would see in San Fran. I exited the car thinking nothing of it, which was immediately a HUGE fucking mistake, as the icy air hit my sparsely clothed skin, resulting in my junk rescinding far into my groin regions instantaneously. Brrrrr! WTF? It couldn’t have been more than 20 degrees outside! I went back into the car and got my leather jacket, which helped a little to stifle the freezing weather, but not too much. Plus, my legs were still exposed. I literally sprinted to the heated confines of the station. You see, as I was closely thereafter informed by the cashier, fog in Northern Az. this time of year doesn’t indicate rain, but snow (ah yes, the chilly ‘white stuff’)! I suppose the amused look on her face at my attire said it all, which read: stupid California ‘cornflake’, as my brother John so eloquently assesses us, doesn’t know how to dress for winter. Yeah, well ha ha. I wasn’t expecting snow, and don’t live in Tahoe, so eat me. As we continued the final 70 miles or so, I would see evidence of LOTS of the ‘white stuff’ that had recently fallen.

Shortly after arrival, we unpacked everything and checked out the ‘rents new house. It is gorgeous. Sitting atop a mountainside lot, the new place comes equipped with hardwood flooring, large, double-pane windows providing a gorgeous view of Prescott Valley (I swear, about 40 miles of it!), 2 fireplaces (one in living room, one in master BR), a fantastic kitchen, large outdoor deck, office, and a urinal. Yes, my father put a urinal in his bathroom. How freakin’ cool is that?? Note to self: install urinal, achieve inner peace – check. The house has a lot more, but I choose to let my gallery pics describe the rest, rather than bore you to death with details.

We hung pretty low the first few days, and got to know my parent’s friends, John and Sharon Butasche (hi! if you’re reading). They are a really cool couple who seem to enjoy similar things that my folks do, like online gambling, watching gambling on TV, gambling among themselves, not to mention gambling in a casino. Did I mention they like to gamble (ha ha guys, I keed, I keed…)?? So, dad showed John the world of playing Texas Holdem’ online, seemingly addicting the poor guy for life in the process. The only times he seemed to have left the forbidding screen was to eat, play cards, barbecue, use the bathroom, or sleep. If the urinal had been installed in the office, we may have never met ol’ John. And that would have been a tragedy, as I immediately liked them both.

On T-Day, we traveled to Phoenix to eat and stay over at my brother John’s (not to be confused with John B.) house. Dinner was great, as Barbara presented 2 gobblers: one regular, one smoked. MMMmmm. And, i’m ALL about the smoked stuff. We all ate up, and the men retired to the cleared off table for a game of, as you would probably assume, poker. Needless to say, I lost my ass the first 20 minutes of the game, and it took me hours to get back even. I was sitting at the worst chair at the table luck-wise, so when my brother asked if I would like to change seats with him, I quickly obliged. Guess what? That made all of the difference. We deemed that chair the “Butthole of Doom”, and that it was. Everyone who sat there eventually lost their ass to the powerful suction of the butthole (i’m looking at you, Jack.). It was bigger than all of us – a force not to be reckoned with. I’m glad I moved.

The ensuing days after Thanksgiving were fairly uneventful. We stayed around the house (there wasn’t that much to do in town), I took one more trip out to Phoenix to visit my friend Jason, and that was about it. We drove back starting this morning, and just arrived an hour and a half ago. The trip back sucked ass. Traffic, traffic, and more traffic delayed us by just over two hours on our return. I’m just thinking of flying next time, for Christ sake!

In conclusion, I hope your Thanksgiving was just as fulfilling and fun! Niters.

 

Some kind of NFL Oracles and Going On Location

I just have to devote this space to my Yahoo Fantasy Sports ‘Pro Pickem’ pool I play in each week. Usually, all involved are pretty dismal at picking, since we all are busy doing ‘other things’. However, this week’s pickings are more than an anomaly, proof positive than indeed, the sun does shine on a dog’s ass every now and again. It’s a celebration if one of us happens to MAKE, let alone top 10 correct picks in a week out of a possible 12, 14, or 16. But for EVERY person involved to do eclipse this is quite cool. EVERY person in the pool ended up with either a 12 or 13 out of possible 16 for the week. Go, us! Nice job, fellas.

Hey! you can also start a league yourself.

I’ll be off to Arizona tomorrow to spend Thanksgiving with the family. Yep, driving for a splendid 10 fricken hours. Updates might somehow be affected in my absense, we’ll see how it goes. Perhaps I will update on location from my parents home just in case I get a wild hair to write about it. I wouldn’t hold your breath. No, really.