Thursday, July 17, 2008

You know it has been a long day when...

when you're too tired to talk
when little things seem to take FOREVER
when everybody won't leave you alone (except the ones you want there right then - who are nowhere)
when you wear your sunglasses all day so nobody will look into your deadly eye-stare
when you've listened to the same song over & over again without realizing it
when happy people piss you off
when sad people make you laugh
when small children are five seconds from being pushed into traffic if they don't stop crying for their fucking hannah montana/jonas brothers memorabilia
when the only people who hear you are the same people who didn't hear you last time
when even your best only comes off "okay"
when you wish you had someone to take it out on in some sort of semi-violent sexualish way
when you've masturbated enough to use up an entire roll of toilet paper
when you think about actually doing all the things you said you'd never do
and when you think that in the end it's all just not worth it.

Sunday, July 13, 2008


I heard this very enthusiastic asian man reciting these lines spoken-word-style...and then we played more drums, sax, and noisemakers.

"Roses are red / Violets are blue / You're so beautiful / Can I sleep with you?" - Dan Ninja

"Maybe later." - Rachel Samurai

It was funny at the time.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

This is what has been on my mind lately

"The worst that can happen isn't any worse than what's already happened." - Me

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

It's disgusting, horrible, and I can't stop reading.

I'm talking about this website that I found a few weeks ago and have nearly finished up completely.

This is the home of Tucker Max and his legendary-seeming stories of hook-ups, break-ups, drunken fucks, boobed-up floozies, the immoral & sometimes illegal escapades of a guy who's got too much time, too much money, and too little of everything else.

He's even got a book out, and while I haven't gotten a chance to read it yet, I'm sure you'll find it filled with his brand of provocative humour that the stories on his website has.

I'm fucking serious here. The stuff he writes is pretty much fucked-up in every way possible - legal, moral, ethical, natural, and so on...He's got women doing shit I can't believe someone would do - even with ten shots and too-tight clothing. And there are things he does that I don't think most men would have the balls (or the social apathy) to do to that many women, let alone one woman.

Anyways, if you're looking for some depraved late-night internet, check out the website at least. Each story can be finished in one sitting pretty much. I'd start in the order he's put them up, since they're all so convulted anyways.

Peace, love, and cocoa-puffs, kids.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Midafternoon Musings

I've been having a thought.

We're all so used to dealing with fake people nowadays. We have small conversations where we don't say what we mean and ask questions we don't care to know the real answers about. "How are you?" "I'm fine. You?" "I'm good." "Cool." And so on...

Is it that we're all just jaded? After a thousand little encounters that suck up the soul of our politeness and interest, I'm wondering if people slowly become incoluated from sincerity.

And those of us who consider ourselves to be decent, genuine people, what about us? Do we actually think that we've kept ourselves intact from all this idiociy and ignorance? Or has the strain of being among the few remaining real people around gotten to us?

Seriously, we look at the world with a little cynicism. When we meet people we judge them a little harsher, and when someone has a problem we come down with a little more condescension. We've conditioned ourselves to the world as it is, expecting to deal with shitty people, but then when someone worthwhile comes along, we don't know how to react. Everything they say is suspect. Their actions are weighed and measured like anyone else's because we're not used to dealing with someone who's not just honest, but genuinely good.

Don't deny it. Don't try and rationalize your way around the cold hard fact that we have become just as soulless as the people around us we think less of; and when someone comes along who's not fake, who's actually authentic, we don't have a fucking clue of how to be. We've lost something - our ability to be ourselves.

'Course, maybe this just a buncha bullshit. Maybe this is a waste of cyberspace and I should toss in my career as a social philosopher/commentator and go into accounting, or something.