Sometimes it is not easy to remember to just forget and let things be. Christmastime always brings me a to a point of worrying. Did I get enough for this person, did I do as much as I could have, should I have visited this person more? For some odd reason, it is so easy to feel so alone on Christmas.
Then, at the end of the night, I settle down and remember that it isn’t really all about that stuff. Well, I guess it is about the presents a little bit, I won’t try to deny that. What would America be without it’s great economic stimulus package known as Christmas? But, I seem to get worried, seem to let this weight, this pressure, this stress get me down around the holidays. Then, at the end of the night, I realize what a great time I had with great people.
I don’t want to get too sappy on you. I don’t want to sound like a total fag here. But, then again, I do appreciate the people I have around. Family, friends, random people I meet. It is so easy to get caught up in the culmination of the year, all the time and effort and money going to one night of the year. Then, you see your nephew opening your gift and it makes you cry. Or, you get to see kids having a great time just enjoying their belief in Santa. Or, you get a little pissed off when your nephew pushes your cousin for no reason. But, we all learn. You get to talk with your uncle “Gordon” who you only get to see once a year, but you hang out in the same spot, ask the same questions, then at the end of the night, remark about how you will do it all again next year.
At the end of the night you might be lucky enough to get to reflect on a good night and it sort of makes you want to cry all over again. Then, you start writing this and it sort of puts everything in perspective. Either that or you are sort of normal and actually just go to bed instead of looking over at the corner of your computer to see that it is now 3:24 and you know your nephew is going to wake you up in the morning while you sleep at your sister’s house (and you remember you and your other sister were always up and ready trying to wake up your other sister but she was always a bit older and lost the “spirit” before you and that always sucked).
Then, you get to think of the next day, actual Christmas day, and you think back to when you were young and you could barely sleep on Christmas eve because you couldn’t wait to wake up in the morning. Did Santa come and eat his cookies and milk? How the hell did he get in our house in the first place? Chimney? We don’t even have one. A sleepless night awaiting the morning. You know, with things dancing in your head like that story goes. Getting to watch Home Alone and Home Alone 2 over and over, watching The Grinch again, baking cookies, wrapping gifts, giving someone a hug. Hearing a jingle while in a bunk bed in a room with your sister, but being able to see your mom through your door and knowing it wasn’t her who made the jingle (IT MUST HAVE BEEN SANTA!). Mom, how did you do that?
It really can be a magical time of year when you remember to just let it be and enjoy it for what it is. Another excuse to get drunk. Just kidding. Another reason to get high. Another joke. What it is is a time to get together with people you appreciate and love but never have time to see enough because life is always so busy. It is so nice to be able to settle down, talk with people who you don’t get enough time to catch up with because you live your own life. Life can be a lot of busy times and life can get you caught up amongst yourself. Then, on Christmas eve and Christmas, you are able to all get together, and even if it is only for a few hours, you can reflect, talk to, hang out with those that you love. You can also fight with these people, because that makes the night even more interesting. No throwing bows though, that will put you right on Santa’s naughty list. I might not be telling you anything that you don’t already know, and if so, you are one of the lucky ones.
Hustle, bustle, buy more, run around all day, get enough gifts, wrap them all nicely, check your list, make sure you got everyone you needed to get. But, remember to then forget all that and just sit and talk with people. People, family, friends, loved ones, that have come from right down the street, or have driven hundreds of miles to get together, ones who fly in from other states, other countries, other cities, towns. Show someone you care by spending your money on them. And, get drunk. Or, high, if you prefer that. Or stay sober, it’s just as fun. Get naked if you want, I don’t know what type of family you have.
But, Christmas shouldn’t be the only time to let people know. That is why I try to do it as much as I can. A random call here and there is a great thing. An unexpected, “Hello, how you doing, just called to see how things are” is always a welcome thing. Because at Christmas, times become even busier, and those that you would like to get a hold of and have the chance to talk with are either out of town, you are out of town, or you just never get the chance (because your piece of crap phone decides it is going to die 2 days before Christmas). So, I always try to remember to do that sporadically throughout the year just to let people know. But, do I ever do enough? I can only hope so. I can only attempt to try to do more. If I never got the chance to wish you a happy Christmas, I guess this is my lame attempt at doing so. Well, at least I am putting in some effort, I can’t really fault myself totally. But, as I said, I get busy and start thinking a lot and forget even some of the most important people in my life this time of year. As Kevin McCallister said, “We all do!”
I’m not even sure if I will even post this, but I had to get this off my chest. It’s now 3:30, I have a lot of night dreaming about Santa to do before I fall asleep and I am woken up in the early parts of the morning to share some Christmas joy with my nephews. I guess this is just my really long, drawn out way of saying Merry Christmas, Happy Honahkah (that’s how I spell it), Have A Nice Quanza (I don’t feel like looking it up), or whatever the hell you are celebrating tonight. Keep the “mas” in Christmas. You can leave the Christ part out, as long as you treat each other as gods. This went longer than expected and sort of dragged, but I still feel as though a “Merry Christmas” wouldn’t be enough from me to anyone reading, or anyone who knows how much I care and how much I love them. OK, now this is getting really gay, I have to get out of here before I am lynched. Later, and Merry Ch….fuck it. You know what I mean.
Love, John.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Judgments/Childhood/Innocence
Be like a child, in the respect that a child is never embarrassed about what they are doing. They don’t care how they are judged by other people. They are young and don’t even know others judge. But, as an adult, you realize people judge, so you change what you would normally do because you don’t want people to judge you the wrong way. But, don’t do things according to another’s judgments. Act as if no one judges. Because, the people that don’t judge are the good ones. I see someone dance and I am just proud that they are doing what they do without caring what anyone else thinks. You have to remain a child in your head in this respect. Sure, as an adult you realize people make judgments and think about you and what you are doing, but don’t even care. A child has the innocence of not knowing people judge, so they have it that much easier because they do what they do regardless of other’s feelings on the matter. So, just do what you do no matter who is watching, no matter who is judging. The best people will realize and not judge anyway. The best people will just see what you are doing and be proud that you do your own thing without caring what anyone else thinks. If your child gets embarrassed at a young age, that is not a good thing. No child should be embarrassed. If a child is embarrassed, I am a bit worried that the parents are way to judgmental on what the child is doing. If a child is embarrassed I think that the parents are the type that want their kid to impress other people and the child gets yelled at if they don’t. The innocence of a child should not be corrupted by judgmental adults. But, somewhere along the line, that is what happens. Somewhere along the line, the child learns that people judge and they change what they do so that they will not be judged the wrong way. Never do that. Only do what you do and have no worries about who accepts it. I’m trying to live a life without judgments. One in which I don’t judge others, and one in which I live without thinking of the judgments people are making about me. I am attempting to live without judging others and without caring the ways others judge me.
Monday, December 14, 2009
A Whoring Update
I just wanted to let you all know that I have finally got myself in gear and attempted to get some of my work, or as I like to call it play, published. I have been writing insane amounts of material lately. This includes comedy, aphorisms, columns, jokes, poetry, philosophy, random wordplay, and of course, social commentary. Things are working out well. In nearly all of my attempts so far, I have had great response from those with whom I was looking to publish.
I will be covering pro wrestling on a weekly basis over at http://www.ringsidereport.com, an opportunity I very much look forward to. I can’t really ask for much else than the chance to blend two of my loves, wrestling and writing. I am also writing for a website http://www.notsointeresting.com which has given me the freedom to say what I want in a way that I want to say it, something I don’t take for granted. In addition, over at http://theoutletmagazine.com I will be writing for both the website and the magazine itself. They have a lot of very interesting things going on at the site, so do yourself a favor and check it out. The Outlet is another place where I have been lucky enough to be given total freedom to say what I want, so you know it will be interesting. That one will be weekly as well.
I am still doing the talk radio show “A Different Wavelength” with my good friend Chris Deleigh every week on Mondays live from 8-10 at http://www.unregularradio.com In addition, we just got picked up for a Thursday night spot as well on our friend Seecret Jones’ new show, “Free Radio” which also airs from 8-10.
I don’t know, this might be too much John Christopher Pitroff, even for myself. But, if you want to hear my point of view, voice, or take on things, it is finally out there and not just sitting on my computer anymore.
The reason I wanted to update is not simply because I am a total whore and love the attention, but because if any of you enjoy my notes and blog posts, now that I am a “professional” at this, I will not be able to post all of it on here anymore. Did you know there are actually standards for not spewing your stuff to anyone willing to read? What kind of world do we live in? Anyway, I don’t want to be breaking any publishing laws, and I am too lazy to look them up, so now, I am so good and amazing that you have to find me, fuckers! Follow me, my apostles!
Don’t worry, I will still be consistently updating you with a barrage of pointless bullshit here on facebook and my blog whenever I feel it necessary. I have a lot to say, and if you haven’t noticed I love writing and thinking, so even all of these opportunities I have will not be enough to contain my thought flow.
If you have a minute and enjoy my writing or point of view, then make sure to also show support to the websites, magazines, and radio stations/shows that are supporting me and that I am lucky enough to have the opportunity to play for.
Thanks again and take it easy.
Love, John Christopher Pitroff
(Monday December 14, 2009 3:07 AM)
I will be covering pro wrestling on a weekly basis over at http://www.ringsidereport.com, an opportunity I very much look forward to. I can’t really ask for much else than the chance to blend two of my loves, wrestling and writing. I am also writing for a website http://www.notsointeresting.com which has given me the freedom to say what I want in a way that I want to say it, something I don’t take for granted. In addition, over at http://theoutletmagazine.com I will be writing for both the website and the magazine itself. They have a lot of very interesting things going on at the site, so do yourself a favor and check it out. The Outlet is another place where I have been lucky enough to be given total freedom to say what I want, so you know it will be interesting. That one will be weekly as well.
I am still doing the talk radio show “A Different Wavelength” with my good friend Chris Deleigh every week on Mondays live from 8-10 at http://www.unregularradio.com In addition, we just got picked up for a Thursday night spot as well on our friend Seecret Jones’ new show, “Free Radio” which also airs from 8-10.
I don’t know, this might be too much John Christopher Pitroff, even for myself. But, if you want to hear my point of view, voice, or take on things, it is finally out there and not just sitting on my computer anymore.
The reason I wanted to update is not simply because I am a total whore and love the attention, but because if any of you enjoy my notes and blog posts, now that I am a “professional” at this, I will not be able to post all of it on here anymore. Did you know there are actually standards for not spewing your stuff to anyone willing to read? What kind of world do we live in? Anyway, I don’t want to be breaking any publishing laws, and I am too lazy to look them up, so now, I am so good and amazing that you have to find me, fuckers! Follow me, my apostles!
Don’t worry, I will still be consistently updating you with a barrage of pointless bullshit here on facebook and my blog whenever I feel it necessary. I have a lot to say, and if you haven’t noticed I love writing and thinking, so even all of these opportunities I have will not be enough to contain my thought flow.
If you have a minute and enjoy my writing or point of view, then make sure to also show support to the websites, magazines, and radio stations/shows that are supporting me and that I am lucky enough to have the opportunity to play for.
Thanks again and take it easy.
Love, John Christopher Pitroff
(Monday December 14, 2009 3:07 AM)
Saturday, December 12, 2009
For Those Lacking An Attention Span
If everything is wrong, that statement is.
I went to see Transformers and halfway through it turned into a different movie.
If you can get salmonella from eating raw cookie dough, then salmonella tastes awesome!
If something can be pointless, why can’t the opposite be pointfull? “Did you see that documentary?” “Yes, it was so pointfull.”
The shortest distance between two lines is a point, really stretched out, which makes it a line, which makes the whole thing one long line, which makes it not a very short distance at all, which probably means I was wrong in my assumption, which means nothing was proven by this other than the fact that I say which to much which means I’ll stop right now.
All possessions are money transformed.
If your life sucked, I guess it would be kind of nice to get Alzheimer’s.
I don’t offer solutions to anything. I just sit here and write about this shit. I apologize to anyone looking for anything more than random words put together in random order for no real reason other than the fact that I love writing them.
I ride a bike to work and I broke my arm. I like to tell people my turn signal broke.
Couldn’t you spell these the’s?
I solved world hunger: FUCKING EAT!
(censored version for those who don’t like profanity):
I solved world hunger: EAT!
(just as a side note, this is now my third solution to world hunger, if interested in the other two, inquire within)
Eminem might have felt as though he was held down in rap early on in his career because he is white. However, it isn’t because he is white, it’s because of his name: “Hey, you hear about that new rapper, Marshall Bruce Mathers The Third.” “Oh, yeah, he sounds like he’s good.” It’s a good thing he changed his name to Eminem.
I write so much, it’s wrong.
Here’s something depressing: When you type “book” into your cell phone T-Word, it doesn’t first come up as “book,” it comes up as “cool.” Apparently, cool is more important than book.
The bird flu flew away.
Tell me how this makes any sense: The Cleveland Browns wear orange, and their fans dress up as dogs.
The four black people in movies: Denzel Washington, Will Smith, Morgan Freeman and Samuel L. Jackson.
I put my computer to sleep because it had a virus.
People I Can Do Without: People who very pronouncedly push their glasses up with one finger.
If Steven King stutters, he is Steven Hawking. Look up the word “haw” to get that one.
If I lose my glasses, no matter how terrible it is, I could describe a Backstreet Boys concert as “out of sight.”
At what point do you tell your kid that Santa Claus isn’t real? Then, at what point do you admit defeat and tell them that you now realize he is?
There are no good umbrellas!
The world is over: There is now a movie with computer animated chipmunks singing and dancing to their own version of Beyonce’s “Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It).
I am over: I was entertained by it.
John Christopher Pitroff
I went to see Transformers and halfway through it turned into a different movie.
If you can get salmonella from eating raw cookie dough, then salmonella tastes awesome!
If something can be pointless, why can’t the opposite be pointfull? “Did you see that documentary?” “Yes, it was so pointfull.”
The shortest distance between two lines is a point, really stretched out, which makes it a line, which makes the whole thing one long line, which makes it not a very short distance at all, which probably means I was wrong in my assumption, which means nothing was proven by this other than the fact that I say which to much which means I’ll stop right now.
All possessions are money transformed.
If your life sucked, I guess it would be kind of nice to get Alzheimer’s.
I don’t offer solutions to anything. I just sit here and write about this shit. I apologize to anyone looking for anything more than random words put together in random order for no real reason other than the fact that I love writing them.
I ride a bike to work and I broke my arm. I like to tell people my turn signal broke.
Couldn’t you spell these the’s?
I solved world hunger: FUCKING EAT!
(censored version for those who don’t like profanity):
I solved world hunger: EAT!
(just as a side note, this is now my third solution to world hunger, if interested in the other two, inquire within)
Eminem might have felt as though he was held down in rap early on in his career because he is white. However, it isn’t because he is white, it’s because of his name: “Hey, you hear about that new rapper, Marshall Bruce Mathers The Third.” “Oh, yeah, he sounds like he’s good.” It’s a good thing he changed his name to Eminem.
I write so much, it’s wrong.
Here’s something depressing: When you type “book” into your cell phone T-Word, it doesn’t first come up as “book,” it comes up as “cool.” Apparently, cool is more important than book.
The bird flu flew away.
Tell me how this makes any sense: The Cleveland Browns wear orange, and their fans dress up as dogs.
The four black people in movies: Denzel Washington, Will Smith, Morgan Freeman and Samuel L. Jackson.
I put my computer to sleep because it had a virus.
People I Can Do Without: People who very pronouncedly push their glasses up with one finger.
If Steven King stutters, he is Steven Hawking. Look up the word “haw” to get that one.
If I lose my glasses, no matter how terrible it is, I could describe a Backstreet Boys concert as “out of sight.”
At what point do you tell your kid that Santa Claus isn’t real? Then, at what point do you admit defeat and tell them that you now realize he is?
There are no good umbrellas!
The world is over: There is now a movie with computer animated chipmunks singing and dancing to their own version of Beyonce’s “Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It).
I am over: I was entertained by it.
John Christopher Pitroff
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Abandonment
Nothing to write. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. No one to see: All in my head.
This world I have created for myself continues to stretch me further away from the mass. Living in my own mind quarantine, living in my own alone. Living is the best way to see it, or slowly dying; the true reality situation. Alone with an empty casket; none to witness. Abandonment even at the most negative of moments.
Stumbling onto another nothing yet to be.
Falling again into a trap that I cannot get out of. This thing is unavoidable…ever-present. And, the lock & key is not within my grasp. Solely held through another: unable to share, even if it means releasing the chains of my lonely bondage. Situation outcome; holding me tighter and tighter to myself.
I’ve all but given up this idea of optimism. I’ve been in this moment before, and felt it’s wrath. Continuing to dream of a goal I have already been to. Continuing to see the annihilation results that it soon becomes. Overly optimistic, seeing the best in the worst of actions. Feeling the greatness of your most evil creation. Creating beautiful music for myself in the deepest times of depression. See the best in what could soon be, or see the best being torn down, slowly ripping my all but torn to nothing spirit.
Feeling no emotions, living no life, no strong meaningfulness making my day what it is meant to be. Only living, day by day, day to day, and long night through yet another. The same, this system of life is no longer a barrage of smiles and quarrels. Only becoming a slow running feeling of nothingness, leaving its stain of uncaring behind in its wake through my being.
Finding purpose in past emotion. Ever present elation non existent within me, this idea of feeling presents itself as a spinning sound attempting to recapture a part of who I am. Filling a void within, but with another. Only becoming something else in this attempt at excitement.
Ones loneliness, the true self. And, I all but know every corner of my mind, every feeling I have felt. At this point, the feeling is running out. Bleeding my heart to nothingness. Losing steam within my boredom, losing hope that should never exist. Is there something to come worth my time? Is there a day to recognize the potential of my life situation?
To live with hope, to live with reality. The truth staring deep down the soul, knowing the outcome is unnecessary to unhappiness. Knowing where it is headed beforehand. A trick being pulled in front of my eyes, and I still don’t get how it’s done. More importantly, why…
John Christopher Pitroff
Tuesday September 15, 2009 11:00 PM
This world I have created for myself continues to stretch me further away from the mass. Living in my own mind quarantine, living in my own alone. Living is the best way to see it, or slowly dying; the true reality situation. Alone with an empty casket; none to witness. Abandonment even at the most negative of moments.
Stumbling onto another nothing yet to be.
Falling again into a trap that I cannot get out of. This thing is unavoidable…ever-present. And, the lock & key is not within my grasp. Solely held through another: unable to share, even if it means releasing the chains of my lonely bondage. Situation outcome; holding me tighter and tighter to myself.
I’ve all but given up this idea of optimism. I’ve been in this moment before, and felt it’s wrath. Continuing to dream of a goal I have already been to. Continuing to see the annihilation results that it soon becomes. Overly optimistic, seeing the best in the worst of actions. Feeling the greatness of your most evil creation. Creating beautiful music for myself in the deepest times of depression. See the best in what could soon be, or see the best being torn down, slowly ripping my all but torn to nothing spirit.
Feeling no emotions, living no life, no strong meaningfulness making my day what it is meant to be. Only living, day by day, day to day, and long night through yet another. The same, this system of life is no longer a barrage of smiles and quarrels. Only becoming a slow running feeling of nothingness, leaving its stain of uncaring behind in its wake through my being.
Finding purpose in past emotion. Ever present elation non existent within me, this idea of feeling presents itself as a spinning sound attempting to recapture a part of who I am. Filling a void within, but with another. Only becoming something else in this attempt at excitement.
Ones loneliness, the true self. And, I all but know every corner of my mind, every feeling I have felt. At this point, the feeling is running out. Bleeding my heart to nothingness. Losing steam within my boredom, losing hope that should never exist. Is there something to come worth my time? Is there a day to recognize the potential of my life situation?
To live with hope, to live with reality. The truth staring deep down the soul, knowing the outcome is unnecessary to unhappiness. Knowing where it is headed beforehand. A trick being pulled in front of my eyes, and I still don’t get how it’s done. More importantly, why…
John Christopher Pitroff
Tuesday September 15, 2009 11:00 PM
Friday, December 4, 2009
Two New Ones Involving Language (can these recent post titles get any lamer?)
This ( is different from [ and those are both different from {. And, we think hieroglyphics is hard to understand? How the hell do each of these: ( ) [ ] { } have their own distinct meanings, yet they aren’t even letters? Damn, that shit amazes me. Language is so cool. ( is almost C. C as in the letter. If ( was curved a bit more, it could masquerade as a capital or lower case C. Hell, it probably could already. (ouldn’t it? Yes, it (ould. Thousands of years for now people are going to look back and think that C and ( are the same thing.
Is “C” spelled cee, cea, see, or sea? Because if “C” is spelled “see” or “sea” then it isn’t “C”, it’s “S.” See/Cee what I am saying? If “C” is spelled as either “see” or “sea” then it only makes sense that “S” is spelled “ec.” But that doesn’t make cense, scents, sense, or cents.
Is “C” spelled cee, cea, see, or sea? Because if “C” is spelled “see” or “sea” then it isn’t “C”, it’s “S.” See/Cee what I am saying? If “C” is spelled as either “see” or “sea” then it only makes sense that “S” is spelled “ec.” But that doesn’t make cense, scents, sense, or cents.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Stuff To Read
Make every moment the ultimate.
Life is about proving a point to yourself that you are worthy of being alive.
I’ve reached the point in my life where I want to be a kid again. And, I remember thinking as a kid that I couldn’t wait to be an adult and adults saying no, you are lucky, stay as a kid, once you get to be an adult you will want to go back. You aren’t an adult until you want to be a kid again.
I don’t even remember what I thought about life. Think about this sentence for long enough, you will have an acid trip without drugs. Another acid trip sentence.
Peanut Butter and Jelly? Fuck that. You also need bread.
Here’s a good idea: Get high, go to libraries.
The Virgin Mary grilled cheese sandwich sold for something like 40,000 dollars. First of all, it didn’t really have the image of The Virgin Mary on it. But, that’s not the worst part. The woman bit a corner out of it. What you have is a part eaten grilled cheese sandwich. Also, it is old, cold and uneatable. The worst part about this whole deal? She doesn’t even use butter to cook her grilled cheese! It’s not even a real grilled cheese!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Who the fuck would buy a 40,000 grilled cheese that wasn’t even made with butter? My dad makes a mean grilled cheese, but that aint worth $40, never mind $40,000.
Be both a master of life, and a slave to life. Both totally own it, but be totally subdued by it. Do totally your own thing, but at other times let life dictate to you what should be done. Be the master and the slave at the same time. Control life, but let it also control you.
Some books are leather bound. All cows are leather bound.
A walking quadriplegic is a walking contradiction.
In retrospect, looking in retrospect is not worth looking in retrospect.
Religion has a lot of greatness in it, but the people practicing don’t necessarily.
The college attending slave owner was going to get his Master’s.
Nature: red roses amongst a field of sunshine. Humanity: Henchmen of Hitler killing thousands in a field of dirt. Nature: a lion chasing down a zebra to eat. Humanity: A child knowing what love is.
I had a job where I dressed up as a pea, but I screwed around and got canned.
The Bible belt can’t hold up America’s pants.
If Stevie Nicks died in the early 70s, I would be a necrophiliac.
Living life people forget to live life. The run and continue to do what they “have” to do instead of enjoying what life is.
John Christopher Pitroff
Life is about proving a point to yourself that you are worthy of being alive.
I’ve reached the point in my life where I want to be a kid again. And, I remember thinking as a kid that I couldn’t wait to be an adult and adults saying no, you are lucky, stay as a kid, once you get to be an adult you will want to go back. You aren’t an adult until you want to be a kid again.
I don’t even remember what I thought about life. Think about this sentence for long enough, you will have an acid trip without drugs. Another acid trip sentence.
Peanut Butter and Jelly? Fuck that. You also need bread.
Here’s a good idea: Get high, go to libraries.
The Virgin Mary grilled cheese sandwich sold for something like 40,000 dollars. First of all, it didn’t really have the image of The Virgin Mary on it. But, that’s not the worst part. The woman bit a corner out of it. What you have is a part eaten grilled cheese sandwich. Also, it is old, cold and uneatable. The worst part about this whole deal? She doesn’t even use butter to cook her grilled cheese! It’s not even a real grilled cheese!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Who the fuck would buy a 40,000 grilled cheese that wasn’t even made with butter? My dad makes a mean grilled cheese, but that aint worth $40, never mind $40,000.
Be both a master of life, and a slave to life. Both totally own it, but be totally subdued by it. Do totally your own thing, but at other times let life dictate to you what should be done. Be the master and the slave at the same time. Control life, but let it also control you.
Some books are leather bound. All cows are leather bound.
A walking quadriplegic is a walking contradiction.
In retrospect, looking in retrospect is not worth looking in retrospect.
Religion has a lot of greatness in it, but the people practicing don’t necessarily.
The college attending slave owner was going to get his Master’s.
Nature: red roses amongst a field of sunshine. Humanity: Henchmen of Hitler killing thousands in a field of dirt. Nature: a lion chasing down a zebra to eat. Humanity: A child knowing what love is.
I had a job where I dressed up as a pea, but I screwed around and got canned.
The Bible belt can’t hold up America’s pants.
If Stevie Nicks died in the early 70s, I would be a necrophiliac.
Living life people forget to live life. The run and continue to do what they “have” to do instead of enjoying what life is.
John Christopher Pitroff
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Giving Thanks
Because Thanksgiving is this week, I wanted to post a list of things that I am thankful for. Mind you, this is a long list, feel free to read through if you want. If you don't that's cool too. I just feel very fortunate for my life and everything in it, and wanted to write up a list. If you know me, you might notice yourself in here, or some story of my life that I have thought about. I even mention people who don't really know me. But, please don't lose sight of the point that I am very thankful and the fact that I sat at my computer for nearly an hour and a half until almost seven in the morning writing this. The sheer length of this proves the point enough of how thankful I am. As I posted last year, if you need a place to eat or you are alone for Thanksgiving, I have a place to go, so let me know. Thanks for reading.
I’m thankful for my mom and my dad, for that time I almost died, for just being alive. I’m thankful for this bed I sit in as I write this and the computer it is done on. I’m thankful for South Park and its lessons in life, and for my grandfather and his cool tattoo. I’m thankful for the house I live in and all the ones I could if I really wanted to. I’m thankful for the time I grew up, and the way it went. I’m thankful for the religious and for the atheists and for the Buddhists too, fuck it, I’m thankful for all these words to write it to you. I’m thankful for the tolerant and the love in the world, and for even some of the evil for teaching others what not to do. Thankful for having the time to write this and thankful for the food that I eat. Thankful for the women in my life and the sex that I’ve had. Thankful for the gift of life that has been bestowed upon me and everything that encompasses it. Thankful for not being quite able to understand this little trip I’m on and thankful for the sky. Thankful for my sister April for always being my best friend in life and my sister Liz for keeping my mind open when all I wanted to do was shut it. Thankful for the future, and thankful for the past, thankful for this day and surely thankful for the last. Super Tennis and Mario Bros video games and the joy they brought me as a child, that sandbox in my childhood friend Sarah’s backyard and her as well. Thankful for the real and thankful for the fake, thankful for my imagination as well as yours. Thankful for all the aunts and uncles who have always taught me lessons I was too stubborn to learn, and for the cousins I have had the luck to get. I can’t let it go on without thanking James and Nick, both who continuously teach me things in life that I only seem to forget. To my gram for always listening to my debates and my insane personality, you’ve been through an entire life, and I have only lived these 24 years. Thankful that I am able to debate smoking pot with you without worrying about the consequences. Thankful to my uncle Jackie for being the voice of reason in my life and letting me know what to do next when I wasn’t quite sure of the way to go. Here’s some other things I really have to be thankful for, it’s a list I’ll just run through in my head: the heater that keeps me warm at night, the sun that keeps me warm during the day, nature as a whole for doing what is right, this light, that rap I wrote called the writer’s delight, my insight and to all the philosophers before me, to the comedians of the world and all they had to say, to Carlin for speaking the truth, to Lao Tzu for knowing not to, to Jesus for saying it and also living it, to the gifts I will receive at Christmas, and the friends that I have throughout my life. For the times I share with the loved ones that care, for the open mindedness I see, and the luck I have been lucky enough to feel, for the country I live in and all the freedoms I have, for the sway of the trees, for the fact I am able to write this, for the idea of flight, and the flow of knowledge, and the internet, and the opportunities presented to me, to the radio station I work at and it’s owner for giving me the chance, to all the open mics all over the world giving people a chance to say what’s on their mind, for the forums and the columns for sharing ideas, to Stevie Nicks just because she’s so fucking hot and because of the songs that she sings, to Kanye West for making me cry, to Metallica for making me realize what it meant to be talented, and to all the music of the world that has taught me what it is to live life, to the talented and the trying, to that chick at that party that I almost hooked up with after talking with her about music but I ended up throwing up because all I ate that day was a few French fries from Jack’s hot dogs (I wonder what happened to her), to Jack’s hot dog’s for their food and atmosphere and the ability to bring me together with my dad and my mom, to Main Street in North Adams and the parades it brings, to Neville’s doughnuts and to the Apple Barn in Bennington. To Michael Jordan, the Insane Clown Posse, to basketball cards and basketball in general for all you have done for me, to the Chicago Bulls early 90s era, to Dennis Rodman for doing your thing, to Prince for getting the hottest bitches while people called you gay, for that sick ass guitar solo in The Band’s live CD Rock of Ages on that song “Unfaithful Servant,” to those attempting to change the world through their thought and actions, to all the great writers of the past who inspire, to all the street lights, to all the kids of the world and their innocence, for finding joy in those candy machines you have to put a quarter in to get gum out of, to that quarter for letting me do so, for crane machines, for those little horsy rides outside places like K Mart that you use that same quarter for, to all those who share their wisdom in order to help, to those philanthropic few of the world who do what only a few will do, for myself for always remembering I’m not that cool, not that good, not that right, and not that smart, to anyone still reading this, to those willing to learn, for anyone who has ever read anything I ever wrote, listened to anything I ever said, to the tears that I cry over loneliness at night and the same tears that I cry over joy countless times a year, for the pain and sadness, for the love and joy, for Papa Ginos pizza, for Pizza House too, for Pete not only giving me a shot but letting me do my thing and always supporting me even when I made it hard, for my Uncle Paul and his gambling and hookers and for his daughter Kristen and for Bonnie for always being hip to me, for that Kurt Angle match 2 out of 3 falls at Backlash 2001 when I sat there alone at my dad’s totally immersed waiting for it and I ordered “my very own cheese pizza” from Papa Ginos and sat there eating it all myself, for Home Alone and Home Alone 2 for that line and all the times I watched them both, for Leslie Neilson and Wrongfully Accused and VHS’s and being able to watch them with Liz, for pro wrestling and the countless hours it has brought joy to my life, to Mick Foley for teaching me what it means to get into character and to Sacha Baren Cohen for the same thing, more specifically, for that time I got to meet Mick Foley but didn’t know what to say to him when I met him (what do you say to an almost god like figure within your head?), for Niles for the free tickets and for Jared for going with me and for Jared throwing his sock in the ring and having everyone else do it afterward, and for wrestling in general for being the best show on earth, for porn, especially the really good stuff, for Sasha Grey and Ashley Blue for doing what they need to do to please the men of the world, to that Mankind Jim Ross interview that I learned verbatim because I watched it so many times throughout my life, to Jared for asking me to tape myself reciting it and for the camera I used to do it with, for my old apartment in the slums of JP and for the mice that inhabited it with us, for the money I have been lucky enough to have, for people who leave comments on my blog and anyone who listens to our radio show, for the people I get to meet on the street, to that girl at the bus stop the other day I talked to about her umbrella, to that lady I walked by and said “Hi” to on the street but she totally ignored me, to the view from my window and the poem I wrote about it, for Bob Ross and his paintings and his show and his fro, to the insane and the interest they peak in me, to the fact that I live right near what used to be one of the best insane asylums in the entire country, for other countries, for cultures, for India and the way they feel about cows, to moose my true brothers in life, to those willing to listen to me talk about being down with meese, to the Christmas tree I’ll probably open gifts under and the fake fireplace my mom always made, for the tear that might come to my eye if I keep reminiscing about my life, to my aunt Linda for always doing crazy, insane, awesome, surprising shit every Halloween, to her husband Bobby for being down for scaring the shit out of kids, to the fact that I could tell Hadley and Andy the story of it the other night, to pot for opening people’s minds and to pot for letting people learn to appreciate and just talk, to ice, to snow, to rain, to snowplows, to the old basketball hoop that I had at my dad’s for years that I used to play with against Joel DeMarco and Jamie Sigsbury and for the fact that my dad was always down to play with us, and for the fact that my dad was so good at making me believe that I only beat him once in the backyard and actually believe that is true, to the Mickey Mantle rookie card he burned in a fire, to his neighbor “Haney” and all cool neighbors, and to the first laptop I had that I sat at for hours and hours and hours writing my life, spilling my soul, that I threw away and then threw a peanut butter sandwich on top of, for my apartment in Adams that was a place where I learned to grow, to my cat Rosanne Barr, Rosie O’Donnell, Rosie O’Donald or whatever you want to call her, to Joseph Smith, Fidelio, Reggie, Mack, Black Bastard and all the other cats and animals, to my cousin Emily and the times we played Nintendo, to the black people for always being hip, to the white people for trying, and to the British people who are just white people, but lamer, for Christine McVie for singing “Songbird” with so much emotion and to whoever or whatever gave her that beautiful voice, for Fionna Apple and Chris for telling me to listen to her, to my cousin Chris for always bringing me to wrestling shows as a kid and to the WWF Calendar with Hulk Hogan on it that was his and the little title belt made out of paper that he made that is still tucked in there, and to all those old school wrestling magazines he had, to my dad for “hiding” porn at his house when I was a teenager, to Hulk Hogan in general for being an influence in my life, to Superman in the same way, to that Hulk Hogan winter hat that I have that is not a throwback but an original, same with the Shawn Kemp jersey, to Taxi Driver and the fact that one of the main memories my dad has of his father is the fact that his dad watched that movie so much, to my parents for having sex to make me (I hope it was good), to the real Joseph Smith, not just the cat, for showing how fucked up you can be but still get as many bitches as you want, to all the Mormons who still say they believe that to keep their families happy, to the APEX screensaver on my DVD that is going right now and that brought me many memories of waking up to it in my apartment, for my first real couch that my mom bought me and all the memories that are associated with that including some of my best writing ever and some of my best sex ever, and for the fact that I could sleep on that couch for nearly two years while I had a queen sized, totally comfortable bed in the other room. I’m thankful for my name it just sounds good, I’m thankful for the Beach Boys and Brian Wilson for showing me what it means to pour everything you have into something, to Ashley for everything and for making me a prototype of the tattoo I want with George Carlin being crucified and for that shirt that she made for me as well, to all the people I have met through comedy that I can consider real friends and for the laughs that they bring out of my soul, for my cell phone and once again Ashley for drawing that picture of me and James on it, to Alex Grey for his awesome painting that I have in my room and Socrates for being such an awesome dude. I’m thankful for Elios Pizza and even the cheaper Stop & Shop version that I buy and for my dad’s French fries and for my parents being married, then getting divorced, for my sister Liz’s child yet to be and the joy she’ll bring to me, to Niles for teaching me to do your own thing and Susie for being the shit as well, to Mel who has been cool and the free meals she has gotten me at school and for fixing the computer that I am writing this on, to Tom and his antics even when he pisses me off, to his girlfriend for making him happy and his parents to, to the Usual Suspects and all their families and friends I have had the joy of coming in contact with, to Jordan and him being more fucked in the head than I am and for him being him around me and for his mom for the food, to this mustache I am sporting, to kicking it old school, to that picture of my dad and mom and sister April when my dad looked so pimp that I want to buy those same glasses and attempt to get that same mustache, to the beard I had and all the reasons for it, for the write up I did about my beard, to my long hair, to my short hair, to my look, and to those Denver Nuggets sweatpants I took. I am thankful for this life, and the fact that I’ll die, thankful for the mystery of life and the very idea of being here and there, I am thankful for living, I am thankful for caring, I am thankful for having the opportunity, I am thankful for the depression I went through and in some sick way thankful that I might have to go through it again, I am thankful for the sleep study that I did and everyone involved, for Ruth for always having a candy bar on top of the fridge for me as a kid, for that movie about Thomas The Train so that I can hear James say, “toot toot movie,” to myself for getting across without words to James a truth that made him look at a picture of what he thought was me and say, “Uncle John loves me.’ That one might outdo the rest because it made me worthy of dying, and made my heart worthy of crying. If I forget you or anything I am thankful for all, all that is known as god, and the fact that “I find hope in the endless skies of depression.” To my uncle’s camp and that time we went up there for the 4th of July and I went and took a piss in the woods and had some sort of epiphany, and to the fireworks after at the SteepleCats game and to the fact that I was drunk and walked right in without paying and Pete laughed, for that picture of me, Pete, and his brother Steve at the wedding where I am smiling and I must have just said a joke because Pete is cracking up, for the basketball court in North Adams where I originally wanted to have my ashes thrown, and to the fact that I want to be just thrown in the woods at death, to Hall & Oates and especially, “Do What You Want, Be What You Are,” to “She’s Gone” and the moment of realization I had in the shower because of that song, for truth, for realness, for honesty, for love. To the schools I went to including the three colleges and all the knowledge I attained. I am thankful for being known as a “tryer” and thankful for sunflower seeds because they are so damn good, for gum, and for a vacuum to clean my room. To the washer I just fixed, the dryer I use all the time, and all the clothes I own, to the Goodwill for all those clothes I bought, and for all the books I own and the notes inside them, for the highlighters that help me to remember (even the ones that run out), to all the pens that have helped me spill my soul, to the printer and ink for getting this shit down in physical form, for my blog, and for you reading it, for those willing to help when they don’t have to, for Kim for teaching me more than I have yet to realize, to Jen for always having my back, and for the dresses I wore these last two Halloweens, for the razor that shaves my armpits just because I want to fuck with people, and for my toothbrush. I am thankful for the east, the west, the south, the north, the above, the below, the ocean, the stars, the moon, the glow, the water, the air, Mexico, Tacos, Taco Bell, the Spanish language, that girl I went out on a date with that only spoke Spanish, for the fact that I can make fun of myself, for Anchorman, for that British girl that Andy heard about, for the light that will be coming up in about an hour, for my nipple rings and the one in my ‘brow, for plants so I can eat, and for 5 Cheese Ziti Al Forno at Olive Garden and the same one with a different name at The Cheesecake Factory that was one of the best things I have ever eaten, for cookies even when they are burnt, for clocks and my hour glass, for being able to keep track of time yet not forgetting to just live, for watches and eternity and infinity as well, for my professor getting me interested in The Band, and for that other one that was so cool no one noticed, to Mr. Gniadek for being cool even when everyone thought he wasn’t and for that same jacket he wore everyday and for the fact that I totally butchered the spelling of his name. I am thankful for St. John’s Episcopal church and how it was part of my childhood, thankful I wasn’t raped by the priests, thankful to Bob and Lauren for always being Christ-like and for bagpipes both the instrument and the man. To all the weirdos whom I identify with, to attempting to understand without judging, to the dude that my dad knows that always walks around North Adams, to yearbooks so we can all look back on everyone in our lives, to high school for sucking so much, and for that hallway that I sat in, totally alone, every lunch, not eating, for my entire sophomore year, FOR NEVER FITTING IN AND REALIZING I DON”T EVER REALLY WANT TO, for Frank Possemato for always having my back on my writing and helping me with my poetry, for American Beauty and Lester Burnham for letting me identify, for all forms of sex something I already mentioned but had to say again, to Alex’s brother Ben, to the paper and the pen, to Zen, to Taoism and the fact that it will make you understand Christianity, to Danny Carey’s drumming on “Ticks & Leeches,” to Fish Pond, for going out on boats, for parasailing that time with my aunt Janet, for Great Escape and all the great trips, for my aunt Linda being handicapped and the fact that she wasn’t offended and got a laugh out of me saying, “Thank you for being handicapped.” To the people who push other people’s wheelchairs around out of love, for that dude that helps an old lady across the street, to hitchhiker’s but only the ones not like Jeffrey Dahmer, for Lori Parino and her touching photography, for Xenophone for being such a dick that everyone gets a good laugh out of it, for my heart pumping blood and making me realize I’m alive, for spinach pie even though I don’t like it. I am thankful for the USB saving device that I have all my work saved on that when I die I want you to find and make sure you read it, to whoever paints those shitty paintings in the middle kiosks of the mall of Kurt Cobain and Jack Nicholson in The Shining because I have them hanging on my wall, for people who are able to take a joke, for roasts, for scarves and shovels in the winter. For the English language for being so fucked up and allowing me to write endless jokes about it. For my first job as a dishwasher and how awesome it was, for the creativity of Hadley to want to dress up as clowns and walk in a restaurant to do dishes. For my opposable thumbs, for masturbation when necessary, for orgasms that to this day blow my mind, to that warm love feeling you get when you are with someone you really care about, for love being halted, twisted, turned and slapping you in the face of reality so that you can learn from it, for the fact that we can cure diseases, for my tobacco pipes, for my burrow that my friends and I pulled up through my third story window using a lot of rope just because we thought it would be fun, for my feet and that time I walked with my buddies from Bennington to North Adams for no reason other than the fact that we wanted to hang out, for anyone with passion, for anyone who loves what they do and the fact that I have found out what I want to do in my life and the fact that I am doing it right now, for the woods, for the desert, for being alone, for being around friends and loved ones, for kids and the smiles I see on Halloween, for volcanoes for being so damn interesting, for those who are interested, for those who do give a shit when it is so easy not to, for that 10 commandments plaque I got when I was a kid for free at a tag sale, for Hoop It Up and all the memories, for being allowed to just do crazy shit for the fun of it, for things that make no sense, for Connecticut and the trips I took there, for getting head, for the fact that I can feel at home in my heart, for my mom’s home cooked meals, her stuffed shells, and even for that huge bug Ape and I killed as a kid because we really didn’t know better, for my tail and having the balls to sport it, for being confident enough to do whatever the fuck I want, for the mud pies that Ape and I made out in the backyard, for people who listen to shit I have to say, for anyone who ever bought Lemonade or juice or whatever drink we were selling, for being an entrepreneur even at such a young age, for the fact that I know I have to stop at all of those Lemonade stands that kids put up because I identify with it, for having a different perspective on life, for seeing beautiful things both through my eyes and through my soul, for the fact that I can be drunk, look at a light and make myself happy about it, for alcohol and the many fun times it has given me and even for the bad, for Wikipedia for being a place I could read for hours, possibly days on end, for Youtube for much the same reason, and for Facebook for the fact that I can post this and also the fact that I am able to connect with people I wouldn’t be able to otherwise, to walking through hell in order to feel heaven and being able to find a balance and to the rap I wrote about that, for civil rights, for rights in general, for pegs on bikes that I liked to ride on, for Chris Kordana being insane in elementary school when he played football at recess and for the fact that no one really had the balls to step to him accept me but no one noticed, for that referee that called a charge after I took it and I landed real hard and he came up to me and said, “Damn, you are crazy” and for him calling me for a moving screen on the next play after getting laid out by the guy who didn’t see me there, and to people who run into the bleachers during basketball games with 2 audience members to save the ball just because they care that much (including myself in this one), to people who hustle on the court and in life, I am thankful for the fact that I want to be thankful, for mashed potatoes and even gravy even though I don’t eat it, thankful for my mom making vegetarian gravy, thankful for lobsters, but not because of how they taste, thankful for rainbows because they make me wonder and thankful for that time I saw Bob Saget live in Boston and thankful for all the shows I have been able to go to in my life. Look, I could go on forever, into eternity with these thoughts of thankfulness, so I’ll just end it soon. Just realize everything that has ever entered my life has affected me in some way and I am thankful for that because I am proud of the person I am, and I have nobody and nothing to thank except everyone and everything I have ever let enter my brain. I am lastly thankful for the fact that I am able to remember to be thankful even on days other than Thanksgiving. Thank you.
(Sunday November 22, 2009 4:08 AM finished, added more, finished 4:47 AM)
I’m thankful for my mom and my dad, for that time I almost died, for just being alive. I’m thankful for this bed I sit in as I write this and the computer it is done on. I’m thankful for South Park and its lessons in life, and for my grandfather and his cool tattoo. I’m thankful for the house I live in and all the ones I could if I really wanted to. I’m thankful for the time I grew up, and the way it went. I’m thankful for the religious and for the atheists and for the Buddhists too, fuck it, I’m thankful for all these words to write it to you. I’m thankful for the tolerant and the love in the world, and for even some of the evil for teaching others what not to do. Thankful for having the time to write this and thankful for the food that I eat. Thankful for the women in my life and the sex that I’ve had. Thankful for the gift of life that has been bestowed upon me and everything that encompasses it. Thankful for not being quite able to understand this little trip I’m on and thankful for the sky. Thankful for my sister April for always being my best friend in life and my sister Liz for keeping my mind open when all I wanted to do was shut it. Thankful for the future, and thankful for the past, thankful for this day and surely thankful for the last. Super Tennis and Mario Bros video games and the joy they brought me as a child, that sandbox in my childhood friend Sarah’s backyard and her as well. Thankful for the real and thankful for the fake, thankful for my imagination as well as yours. Thankful for all the aunts and uncles who have always taught me lessons I was too stubborn to learn, and for the cousins I have had the luck to get. I can’t let it go on without thanking James and Nick, both who continuously teach me things in life that I only seem to forget. To my gram for always listening to my debates and my insane personality, you’ve been through an entire life, and I have only lived these 24 years. Thankful that I am able to debate smoking pot with you without worrying about the consequences. Thankful to my uncle Jackie for being the voice of reason in my life and letting me know what to do next when I wasn’t quite sure of the way to go. Here’s some other things I really have to be thankful for, it’s a list I’ll just run through in my head: the heater that keeps me warm at night, the sun that keeps me warm during the day, nature as a whole for doing what is right, this light, that rap I wrote called the writer’s delight, my insight and to all the philosophers before me, to the comedians of the world and all they had to say, to Carlin for speaking the truth, to Lao Tzu for knowing not to, to Jesus for saying it and also living it, to the gifts I will receive at Christmas, and the friends that I have throughout my life. For the times I share with the loved ones that care, for the open mindedness I see, and the luck I have been lucky enough to feel, for the country I live in and all the freedoms I have, for the sway of the trees, for the fact I am able to write this, for the idea of flight, and the flow of knowledge, and the internet, and the opportunities presented to me, to the radio station I work at and it’s owner for giving me the chance, to all the open mics all over the world giving people a chance to say what’s on their mind, for the forums and the columns for sharing ideas, to Stevie Nicks just because she’s so fucking hot and because of the songs that she sings, to Kanye West for making me cry, to Metallica for making me realize what it meant to be talented, and to all the music of the world that has taught me what it is to live life, to the talented and the trying, to that chick at that party that I almost hooked up with after talking with her about music but I ended up throwing up because all I ate that day was a few French fries from Jack’s hot dogs (I wonder what happened to her), to Jack’s hot dog’s for their food and atmosphere and the ability to bring me together with my dad and my mom, to Main Street in North Adams and the parades it brings, to Neville’s doughnuts and to the Apple Barn in Bennington. To Michael Jordan, the Insane Clown Posse, to basketball cards and basketball in general for all you have done for me, to the Chicago Bulls early 90s era, to Dennis Rodman for doing your thing, to Prince for getting the hottest bitches while people called you gay, for that sick ass guitar solo in The Band’s live CD Rock of Ages on that song “Unfaithful Servant,” to those attempting to change the world through their thought and actions, to all the great writers of the past who inspire, to all the street lights, to all the kids of the world and their innocence, for finding joy in those candy machines you have to put a quarter in to get gum out of, to that quarter for letting me do so, for crane machines, for those little horsy rides outside places like K Mart that you use that same quarter for, to all those who share their wisdom in order to help, to those philanthropic few of the world who do what only a few will do, for myself for always remembering I’m not that cool, not that good, not that right, and not that smart, to anyone still reading this, to those willing to learn, for anyone who has ever read anything I ever wrote, listened to anything I ever said, to the tears that I cry over loneliness at night and the same tears that I cry over joy countless times a year, for the pain and sadness, for the love and joy, for Papa Ginos pizza, for Pizza House too, for Pete not only giving me a shot but letting me do my thing and always supporting me even when I made it hard, for my Uncle Paul and his gambling and hookers and for his daughter Kristen and for Bonnie for always being hip to me, for that Kurt Angle match 2 out of 3 falls at Backlash 2001 when I sat there alone at my dad’s totally immersed waiting for it and I ordered “my very own cheese pizza” from Papa Ginos and sat there eating it all myself, for Home Alone and Home Alone 2 for that line and all the times I watched them both, for Leslie Neilson and Wrongfully Accused and VHS’s and being able to watch them with Liz, for pro wrestling and the countless hours it has brought joy to my life, to Mick Foley for teaching me what it means to get into character and to Sacha Baren Cohen for the same thing, more specifically, for that time I got to meet Mick Foley but didn’t know what to say to him when I met him (what do you say to an almost god like figure within your head?), for Niles for the free tickets and for Jared for going with me and for Jared throwing his sock in the ring and having everyone else do it afterward, and for wrestling in general for being the best show on earth, for porn, especially the really good stuff, for Sasha Grey and Ashley Blue for doing what they need to do to please the men of the world, to that Mankind Jim Ross interview that I learned verbatim because I watched it so many times throughout my life, to Jared for asking me to tape myself reciting it and for the camera I used to do it with, for my old apartment in the slums of JP and for the mice that inhabited it with us, for the money I have been lucky enough to have, for people who leave comments on my blog and anyone who listens to our radio show, for the people I get to meet on the street, to that girl at the bus stop the other day I talked to about her umbrella, to that lady I walked by and said “Hi” to on the street but she totally ignored me, to the view from my window and the poem I wrote about it, for Bob Ross and his paintings and his show and his fro, to the insane and the interest they peak in me, to the fact that I live right near what used to be one of the best insane asylums in the entire country, for other countries, for cultures, for India and the way they feel about cows, to moose my true brothers in life, to those willing to listen to me talk about being down with meese, to the Christmas tree I’ll probably open gifts under and the fake fireplace my mom always made, for the tear that might come to my eye if I keep reminiscing about my life, to my aunt Linda for always doing crazy, insane, awesome, surprising shit every Halloween, to her husband Bobby for being down for scaring the shit out of kids, to the fact that I could tell Hadley and Andy the story of it the other night, to pot for opening people’s minds and to pot for letting people learn to appreciate and just talk, to ice, to snow, to rain, to snowplows, to the old basketball hoop that I had at my dad’s for years that I used to play with against Joel DeMarco and Jamie Sigsbury and for the fact that my dad was always down to play with us, and for the fact that my dad was so good at making me believe that I only beat him once in the backyard and actually believe that is true, to the Mickey Mantle rookie card he burned in a fire, to his neighbor “Haney” and all cool neighbors, and to the first laptop I had that I sat at for hours and hours and hours writing my life, spilling my soul, that I threw away and then threw a peanut butter sandwich on top of, for my apartment in Adams that was a place where I learned to grow, to my cat Rosanne Barr, Rosie O’Donnell, Rosie O’Donald or whatever you want to call her, to Joseph Smith, Fidelio, Reggie, Mack, Black Bastard and all the other cats and animals, to my cousin Emily and the times we played Nintendo, to the black people for always being hip, to the white people for trying, and to the British people who are just white people, but lamer, for Christine McVie for singing “Songbird” with so much emotion and to whoever or whatever gave her that beautiful voice, for Fionna Apple and Chris for telling me to listen to her, to my cousin Chris for always bringing me to wrestling shows as a kid and to the WWF Calendar with Hulk Hogan on it that was his and the little title belt made out of paper that he made that is still tucked in there, and to all those old school wrestling magazines he had, to my dad for “hiding” porn at his house when I was a teenager, to Hulk Hogan in general for being an influence in my life, to Superman in the same way, to that Hulk Hogan winter hat that I have that is not a throwback but an original, same with the Shawn Kemp jersey, to Taxi Driver and the fact that one of the main memories my dad has of his father is the fact that his dad watched that movie so much, to my parents for having sex to make me (I hope it was good), to the real Joseph Smith, not just the cat, for showing how fucked up you can be but still get as many bitches as you want, to all the Mormons who still say they believe that to keep their families happy, to the APEX screensaver on my DVD that is going right now and that brought me many memories of waking up to it in my apartment, for my first real couch that my mom bought me and all the memories that are associated with that including some of my best writing ever and some of my best sex ever, and for the fact that I could sleep on that couch for nearly two years while I had a queen sized, totally comfortable bed in the other room. I’m thankful for my name it just sounds good, I’m thankful for the Beach Boys and Brian Wilson for showing me what it means to pour everything you have into something, to Ashley for everything and for making me a prototype of the tattoo I want with George Carlin being crucified and for that shirt that she made for me as well, to all the people I have met through comedy that I can consider real friends and for the laughs that they bring out of my soul, for my cell phone and once again Ashley for drawing that picture of me and James on it, to Alex Grey for his awesome painting that I have in my room and Socrates for being such an awesome dude. I’m thankful for Elios Pizza and even the cheaper Stop & Shop version that I buy and for my dad’s French fries and for my parents being married, then getting divorced, for my sister Liz’s child yet to be and the joy she’ll bring to me, to Niles for teaching me to do your own thing and Susie for being the shit as well, to Mel who has been cool and the free meals she has gotten me at school and for fixing the computer that I am writing this on, to Tom and his antics even when he pisses me off, to his girlfriend for making him happy and his parents to, to the Usual Suspects and all their families and friends I have had the joy of coming in contact with, to Jordan and him being more fucked in the head than I am and for him being him around me and for his mom for the food, to this mustache I am sporting, to kicking it old school, to that picture of my dad and mom and sister April when my dad looked so pimp that I want to buy those same glasses and attempt to get that same mustache, to the beard I had and all the reasons for it, for the write up I did about my beard, to my long hair, to my short hair, to my look, and to those Denver Nuggets sweatpants I took. I am thankful for this life, and the fact that I’ll die, thankful for the mystery of life and the very idea of being here and there, I am thankful for living, I am thankful for caring, I am thankful for having the opportunity, I am thankful for the depression I went through and in some sick way thankful that I might have to go through it again, I am thankful for the sleep study that I did and everyone involved, for Ruth for always having a candy bar on top of the fridge for me as a kid, for that movie about Thomas The Train so that I can hear James say, “toot toot movie,” to myself for getting across without words to James a truth that made him look at a picture of what he thought was me and say, “Uncle John loves me.’ That one might outdo the rest because it made me worthy of dying, and made my heart worthy of crying. If I forget you or anything I am thankful for all, all that is known as god, and the fact that “I find hope in the endless skies of depression.” To my uncle’s camp and that time we went up there for the 4th of July and I went and took a piss in the woods and had some sort of epiphany, and to the fireworks after at the SteepleCats game and to the fact that I was drunk and walked right in without paying and Pete laughed, for that picture of me, Pete, and his brother Steve at the wedding where I am smiling and I must have just said a joke because Pete is cracking up, for the basketball court in North Adams where I originally wanted to have my ashes thrown, and to the fact that I want to be just thrown in the woods at death, to Hall & Oates and especially, “Do What You Want, Be What You Are,” to “She’s Gone” and the moment of realization I had in the shower because of that song, for truth, for realness, for honesty, for love. To the schools I went to including the three colleges and all the knowledge I attained. I am thankful for being known as a “tryer” and thankful for sunflower seeds because they are so damn good, for gum, and for a vacuum to clean my room. To the washer I just fixed, the dryer I use all the time, and all the clothes I own, to the Goodwill for all those clothes I bought, and for all the books I own and the notes inside them, for the highlighters that help me to remember (even the ones that run out), to all the pens that have helped me spill my soul, to the printer and ink for getting this shit down in physical form, for my blog, and for you reading it, for those willing to help when they don’t have to, for Kim for teaching me more than I have yet to realize, to Jen for always having my back, and for the dresses I wore these last two Halloweens, for the razor that shaves my armpits just because I want to fuck with people, and for my toothbrush. I am thankful for the east, the west, the south, the north, the above, the below, the ocean, the stars, the moon, the glow, the water, the air, Mexico, Tacos, Taco Bell, the Spanish language, that girl I went out on a date with that only spoke Spanish, for the fact that I can make fun of myself, for Anchorman, for that British girl that Andy heard about, for the light that will be coming up in about an hour, for my nipple rings and the one in my ‘brow, for plants so I can eat, and for 5 Cheese Ziti Al Forno at Olive Garden and the same one with a different name at The Cheesecake Factory that was one of the best things I have ever eaten, for cookies even when they are burnt, for clocks and my hour glass, for being able to keep track of time yet not forgetting to just live, for watches and eternity and infinity as well, for my professor getting me interested in The Band, and for that other one that was so cool no one noticed, to Mr. Gniadek for being cool even when everyone thought he wasn’t and for that same jacket he wore everyday and for the fact that I totally butchered the spelling of his name. I am thankful for St. John’s Episcopal church and how it was part of my childhood, thankful I wasn’t raped by the priests, thankful to Bob and Lauren for always being Christ-like and for bagpipes both the instrument and the man. To all the weirdos whom I identify with, to attempting to understand without judging, to the dude that my dad knows that always walks around North Adams, to yearbooks so we can all look back on everyone in our lives, to high school for sucking so much, and for that hallway that I sat in, totally alone, every lunch, not eating, for my entire sophomore year, FOR NEVER FITTING IN AND REALIZING I DON”T EVER REALLY WANT TO, for Frank Possemato for always having my back on my writing and helping me with my poetry, for American Beauty and Lester Burnham for letting me identify, for all forms of sex something I already mentioned but had to say again, to Alex’s brother Ben, to the paper and the pen, to Zen, to Taoism and the fact that it will make you understand Christianity, to Danny Carey’s drumming on “Ticks & Leeches,” to Fish Pond, for going out on boats, for parasailing that time with my aunt Janet, for Great Escape and all the great trips, for my aunt Linda being handicapped and the fact that she wasn’t offended and got a laugh out of me saying, “Thank you for being handicapped.” To the people who push other people’s wheelchairs around out of love, for that dude that helps an old lady across the street, to hitchhiker’s but only the ones not like Jeffrey Dahmer, for Lori Parino and her touching photography, for Xenophone for being such a dick that everyone gets a good laugh out of it, for my heart pumping blood and making me realize I’m alive, for spinach pie even though I don’t like it. I am thankful for the USB saving device that I have all my work saved on that when I die I want you to find and make sure you read it, to whoever paints those shitty paintings in the middle kiosks of the mall of Kurt Cobain and Jack Nicholson in The Shining because I have them hanging on my wall, for people who are able to take a joke, for roasts, for scarves and shovels in the winter. For the English language for being so fucked up and allowing me to write endless jokes about it. For my first job as a dishwasher and how awesome it was, for the creativity of Hadley to want to dress up as clowns and walk in a restaurant to do dishes. For my opposable thumbs, for masturbation when necessary, for orgasms that to this day blow my mind, to that warm love feeling you get when you are with someone you really care about, for love being halted, twisted, turned and slapping you in the face of reality so that you can learn from it, for the fact that we can cure diseases, for my tobacco pipes, for my burrow that my friends and I pulled up through my third story window using a lot of rope just because we thought it would be fun, for my feet and that time I walked with my buddies from Bennington to North Adams for no reason other than the fact that we wanted to hang out, for anyone with passion, for anyone who loves what they do and the fact that I have found out what I want to do in my life and the fact that I am doing it right now, for the woods, for the desert, for being alone, for being around friends and loved ones, for kids and the smiles I see on Halloween, for volcanoes for being so damn interesting, for those who are interested, for those who do give a shit when it is so easy not to, for that 10 commandments plaque I got when I was a kid for free at a tag sale, for Hoop It Up and all the memories, for being allowed to just do crazy shit for the fun of it, for things that make no sense, for Connecticut and the trips I took there, for getting head, for the fact that I can feel at home in my heart, for my mom’s home cooked meals, her stuffed shells, and even for that huge bug Ape and I killed as a kid because we really didn’t know better, for my tail and having the balls to sport it, for being confident enough to do whatever the fuck I want, for the mud pies that Ape and I made out in the backyard, for people who listen to shit I have to say, for anyone who ever bought Lemonade or juice or whatever drink we were selling, for being an entrepreneur even at such a young age, for the fact that I know I have to stop at all of those Lemonade stands that kids put up because I identify with it, for having a different perspective on life, for seeing beautiful things both through my eyes and through my soul, for the fact that I can be drunk, look at a light and make myself happy about it, for alcohol and the many fun times it has given me and even for the bad, for Wikipedia for being a place I could read for hours, possibly days on end, for Youtube for much the same reason, and for Facebook for the fact that I can post this and also the fact that I am able to connect with people I wouldn’t be able to otherwise, to walking through hell in order to feel heaven and being able to find a balance and to the rap I wrote about that, for civil rights, for rights in general, for pegs on bikes that I liked to ride on, for Chris Kordana being insane in elementary school when he played football at recess and for the fact that no one really had the balls to step to him accept me but no one noticed, for that referee that called a charge after I took it and I landed real hard and he came up to me and said, “Damn, you are crazy” and for him calling me for a moving screen on the next play after getting laid out by the guy who didn’t see me there, and to people who run into the bleachers during basketball games with 2 audience members to save the ball just because they care that much (including myself in this one), to people who hustle on the court and in life, I am thankful for the fact that I want to be thankful, for mashed potatoes and even gravy even though I don’t eat it, thankful for my mom making vegetarian gravy, thankful for lobsters, but not because of how they taste, thankful for rainbows because they make me wonder and thankful for that time I saw Bob Saget live in Boston and thankful for all the shows I have been able to go to in my life. Look, I could go on forever, into eternity with these thoughts of thankfulness, so I’ll just end it soon. Just realize everything that has ever entered my life has affected me in some way and I am thankful for that because I am proud of the person I am, and I have nobody and nothing to thank except everyone and everything I have ever let enter my brain. I am lastly thankful for the fact that I am able to remember to be thankful even on days other than Thanksgiving. Thank you.
(Sunday November 22, 2009 4:08 AM finished, added more, finished 4:47 AM)
Monday, November 23, 2009
A Letter To Jesus
Dear Jesus Christ,
Jesus, you are lucky you haven’t come back yet. Sorry, Jesus, things have only gotten worse. No one has listened to what you said. Even though 33% of the world identifies itself as Christian, very, very few actually live it. If you come back, you will only wish you hadn’t. These people would crucify you again. No one would listen, no one would care, no one would even pay attention. If they were to actually notice you, they would have you killed. No one has learned a thing from your first time here. It’s sad. I know you live with the hope that people are basically good, but you yourself would probably reconsider if you saw this cesspool now. It is my belief that you would say, “start over.” I understand that you can’t really hear any of this, and the idea of your “return” is simply that your ideals are lived by everyone else, but the second coming is never going to happen with this planet of people that inhabit it. Not enough people are smart enough, or more importantly, care enough, to make your second coming an actuality. So, I appreciated your attempt, but, because of the people you were trying it on, it was only bound to fail. Nice attempt Jesus, but the subjects suck!
Love, your brother in love,
John Christopher Pitroff
Jesus, you are lucky you haven’t come back yet. Sorry, Jesus, things have only gotten worse. No one has listened to what you said. Even though 33% of the world identifies itself as Christian, very, very few actually live it. If you come back, you will only wish you hadn’t. These people would crucify you again. No one would listen, no one would care, no one would even pay attention. If they were to actually notice you, they would have you killed. No one has learned a thing from your first time here. It’s sad. I know you live with the hope that people are basically good, but you yourself would probably reconsider if you saw this cesspool now. It is my belief that you would say, “start over.” I understand that you can’t really hear any of this, and the idea of your “return” is simply that your ideals are lived by everyone else, but the second coming is never going to happen with this planet of people that inhabit it. Not enough people are smart enough, or more importantly, care enough, to make your second coming an actuality. So, I appreciated your attempt, but, because of the people you were trying it on, it was only bound to fail. Nice attempt Jesus, but the subjects suck!
Love, your brother in love,
John Christopher Pitroff
Friday, November 20, 2009
Still Alive Doing A Radio Show
I just wanted to let you all know that I am still writing, still thinking, and still running this blog. I have to apologize for not updating this blog as often as I should as of late, but I have been without the internet. No worries, without the internet or cable, I have had a lot of down time to just write like an insane madman. So, by next week, I will have the internet back and you will be slapped in the face with more blog postings than you can probably handle. I'm sort of like Mike Tyson. Not in the respect of bashing you in the face with my writing, but just because I too am also an insane, crazy, emotional nutcase.
I also have to let you know to check out a new radio show I am doing with my good friend Chris DeLeigh. It is called, "A Different Wavelength" and it airs live every Monday from 8-10ish (sometimes we have so many ideas for run long) at unregularadio.com I am very proud of the things we are doing on there. It is a talk show about life, culture, and the world. If you enjoy my writing, you will enjoy the show. So, please, give us a listen and send us some feedback. It is an internet based radio station with a lot of good shows, so check out the website to learn more. I never realized how well my personality would work on the radio, but I have found that it is a great amount of fun and so far we have had nothing but positive feedback. It is another forum for me to get across ideas that have been written down sitting on my computer with nothing to do. Thanks again and take it easy.
I also have to let you know to check out a new radio show I am doing with my good friend Chris DeLeigh. It is called, "A Different Wavelength" and it airs live every Monday from 8-10ish (sometimes we have so many ideas for run long) at unregularadio.com I am very proud of the things we are doing on there. It is a talk show about life, culture, and the world. If you enjoy my writing, you will enjoy the show. So, please, give us a listen and send us some feedback. It is an internet based radio station with a lot of good shows, so check out the website to learn more. I never realized how well my personality would work on the radio, but I have found that it is a great amount of fun and so far we have had nothing but positive feedback. It is another forum for me to get across ideas that have been written down sitting on my computer with nothing to do. Thanks again and take it easy.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Uninhabitable Utopia
Utopia? The occurence: two Thursdays contain pigs flying in a frozen hell. Societal perfections amongst totality? Laughable joke, no? Mr. More blatantly boring. Your heaven; my hell. Burning in your divine mind trip. A sin the very thought. Days without difference, nights forever similar. Thinking box shrinking equal to my four-sided living misery. Continuing a steady motion of tedious Talmud. Machines. Mass Produced. Children. In Lines. Conveyer belts push them along: face moulds need to be fed. Give your cash, move along the cycle. Plastic existence:
Void.
Faceless.
Nothing.
No One.
Void.
Faceless.
Nothing.
No One.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
A Life That Is Death To Me
Falling deeper into a sky of hope.
Thinking circles flushing down my life toilet.
Bars of society holding me back, attempting to jail my mind.
Dreaming of better things than actual life productions.
Waking up to a reality lower than my fantasy realm.
Wishing to sleep forever in my mind trip of happiness.
The only true nightmare is awake as I am.
Never ending nightmare, only ends during sleep states.
A feeling of elation which cannot be created authentically.
Only feeling so during fakeness.
I keep walking along my life road.
Tripping consistently, but always moving. Falling constantly, but even crawling when necessary.
I’ll drag myself across the finish line just to be done.
So weak now I can’t break the ribbon of death.
Stuck in my pathetic frailness unable to even bring about an end to my misery.
Death awaits, one second away.
Too cowardly. Too soft in my head to abandon life.
A life that is death to me.
(Sunday June 21, 2009 1:20 PM)
Thinking circles flushing down my life toilet.
Bars of society holding me back, attempting to jail my mind.
Dreaming of better things than actual life productions.
Waking up to a reality lower than my fantasy realm.
Wishing to sleep forever in my mind trip of happiness.
The only true nightmare is awake as I am.
Never ending nightmare, only ends during sleep states.
A feeling of elation which cannot be created authentically.
Only feeling so during fakeness.
I keep walking along my life road.
Tripping consistently, but always moving. Falling constantly, but even crawling when necessary.
I’ll drag myself across the finish line just to be done.
So weak now I can’t break the ribbon of death.
Stuck in my pathetic frailness unable to even bring about an end to my misery.
Death awaits, one second away.
Too cowardly. Too soft in my head to abandon life.
A life that is death to me.
(Sunday June 21, 2009 1:20 PM)
Sunday, October 11, 2009
2012
I can’t wait until the world ends in 2012 so I can stop hearing that the world is going to end in 2012.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Deliver Us From Evil
Recently, I watched a documentary, “Deliver Us From Evil.” Although I enjoyed this movie, because I learned a lot, it was totally disturbing. And, I’m not talking about the good type of disturbing.
The documentary is about a priest named Oliver O’Grady who raped and molested over 100 children. When the higher ups in the Catholic Church heard about him molesting children, they told no one and passed him onto a different parish. This happened several times. They willingly passed a serial child molester on knowing what he had done and would continue to do. That, disturbing as it is, is not the worst of it. Once he was finally caught, he was only sentenced to 14 years in prison. Yes, only 14 years. Disturbed yet? Not the worst part, still. He only served 7 years. Now, he is a totally free man living in Ireland. I know you are deeply disturbed at this point, but there is more…no one there knows what he did.
It made my blood boil listening to this man describe what he did to children with a smile on his face. He even laughed while explaining some of the scenarios. While this was filmed, he was freely walking the streets, children all around him. If you ever hear that I am going to Ireland and I have just bought a gun, you know why I’m on my way.
The point of this was not to disturb you as much as I was disturbed, but to point out, yet again, how fucked up our society is. Here is a person who does this to children, then others find out and instead of telling someone, they hide it for him. When he is finally convicted he only gets 14 years. Then, he only serves seven and is sent free to Ireland and nobody knows his past. There is definitely some flaw in the legal system here. He should get life in prison for molesting one child. But, he only gets seven for molesting and raping hundreds.
The documentary is about a priest named Oliver O’Grady who raped and molested over 100 children. When the higher ups in the Catholic Church heard about him molesting children, they told no one and passed him onto a different parish. This happened several times. They willingly passed a serial child molester on knowing what he had done and would continue to do. That, disturbing as it is, is not the worst of it. Once he was finally caught, he was only sentenced to 14 years in prison. Yes, only 14 years. Disturbed yet? Not the worst part, still. He only served 7 years. Now, he is a totally free man living in Ireland. I know you are deeply disturbed at this point, but there is more…no one there knows what he did.
It made my blood boil listening to this man describe what he did to children with a smile on his face. He even laughed while explaining some of the scenarios. While this was filmed, he was freely walking the streets, children all around him. If you ever hear that I am going to Ireland and I have just bought a gun, you know why I’m on my way.
The point of this was not to disturb you as much as I was disturbed, but to point out, yet again, how fucked up our society is. Here is a person who does this to children, then others find out and instead of telling someone, they hide it for him. When he is finally convicted he only gets 14 years. Then, he only serves seven and is sent free to Ireland and nobody knows his past. There is definitely some flaw in the legal system here. He should get life in prison for molesting one child. But, he only gets seven for molesting and raping hundreds.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Things
Michael Moore has to now change his name to Michael Enooughe.
Either is either pronounced eether or ither. Eether is eether pronounced eether or ither. Ither is ither pronounced ither or eether. This could go on for a while.
If false advertising didn’t exist, false advertising would be false advertising. Wait, no it wouldn’t.
When you are rich, your Ferrari is a status symbol. When you are poor, not showering is a status symbol.
Here’s something you never hear: “I like Metallica, but only the newer stuff.”
Uncle Teddy
Uncle Teddy Flabbs grew up in a broken home. I don’t mean his parents were always fighting, I mean that the living room collapsed when he was only 2 years old. However, his parents, “Flubby” and “Flabby”, as they were known to their friends, could not quite muster up the respective money off of their measly grocery bagging salaries to ever get it fixed. Winters were hard in the Flabbs household. Snow in the living room is not a problem most children attending elementary school have to confront. However, it only made Teddy stronger at heart. By the time he was 8, he was already stabbing classmates with knives, and for some odd reason, pouring soy sauce down the hole it left and yelling, “Conichiwah.” in a Chinese accent. Uncle Teddy never made it through elementary school, but decided instead to enlist in the army at the age of 9. The United States government was all for it, because as they said, “As long as you can shoot somebody for us, who are we to judge?” Teddy went on to win many, many medals of honor in his army days. He became a prolific killer without peer. This was all good and well while in the army, but when he was kicked out for tooth brushing his roommates colon with wonton soup broth and yelling “Give me my fortune cookie!” he could not adjust to life back in the real world. After returning to his childhood home he was unable to shake his army days and went on a killing rampage. Before the cops could arrest him, he quietly committed suicide by freezing himself to death in his living room. Either that, or he fell asleep on the couch by accident.
Either is either pronounced eether or ither. Eether is eether pronounced eether or ither. Ither is ither pronounced ither or eether. This could go on for a while.
If false advertising didn’t exist, false advertising would be false advertising. Wait, no it wouldn’t.
When you are rich, your Ferrari is a status symbol. When you are poor, not showering is a status symbol.
Here’s something you never hear: “I like Metallica, but only the newer stuff.”
Uncle Teddy
Uncle Teddy Flabbs grew up in a broken home. I don’t mean his parents were always fighting, I mean that the living room collapsed when he was only 2 years old. However, his parents, “Flubby” and “Flabby”, as they were known to their friends, could not quite muster up the respective money off of their measly grocery bagging salaries to ever get it fixed. Winters were hard in the Flabbs household. Snow in the living room is not a problem most children attending elementary school have to confront. However, it only made Teddy stronger at heart. By the time he was 8, he was already stabbing classmates with knives, and for some odd reason, pouring soy sauce down the hole it left and yelling, “Conichiwah.” in a Chinese accent. Uncle Teddy never made it through elementary school, but decided instead to enlist in the army at the age of 9. The United States government was all for it, because as they said, “As long as you can shoot somebody for us, who are we to judge?” Teddy went on to win many, many medals of honor in his army days. He became a prolific killer without peer. This was all good and well while in the army, but when he was kicked out for tooth brushing his roommates colon with wonton soup broth and yelling “Give me my fortune cookie!” he could not adjust to life back in the real world. After returning to his childhood home he was unable to shake his army days and went on a killing rampage. Before the cops could arrest him, he quietly committed suicide by freezing himself to death in his living room. Either that, or he fell asleep on the couch by accident.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Totally Ignored
Melting massacre drips our society to pieces. Filling our hate bucket to the brim. Recurring dissonance, overlapping anger within soon to push outward amongst the masses. Feelings within rips society without.
without care
without understanding.
Knowing only negative, turning our societal head to innovative compassion. Compassion to get you killed. Questioning the accepted; the answer; only more hate: the very opposite of the attempt.
Dripping blood-red scathing hatred dissolving the ability to continue even the disgust. Perhaps it’s better this way. The roadway followed ends in annihilation. The best kept secret already known amongst all. Failing to realize it is easily heard. Audible solution, known within the heart, totally ignored. Ignored, more often, totally destroyed. An empty cross should be your clue. But all you see is the death it wrongly represents.
without care
without understanding.
Knowing only negative, turning our societal head to innovative compassion. Compassion to get you killed. Questioning the accepted; the answer; only more hate: the very opposite of the attempt.
Dripping blood-red scathing hatred dissolving the ability to continue even the disgust. Perhaps it’s better this way. The roadway followed ends in annihilation. The best kept secret already known amongst all. Failing to realize it is easily heard. Audible solution, known within the heart, totally ignored. Ignored, more often, totally destroyed. An empty cross should be your clue. But all you see is the death it wrongly represents.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
People That I Would Punch In The Face Just Because Of What They Look Like
People that I would punch in the face just because of what they look like:
- Haley Joel Osment
- The lead singer of Sum 41
- Brendan Fraser
- Patton Oswalt
Tell me you would not deck all four of these people in the face just because their face calls for it. If you say you wouldn’t you are only lying to yourself. If I leave you in a room with a photo of these four, I guarantee you will want to slam your fist directly into their nose within minutes.
Tell me you wouldn't. I'm getting angry right now just looking at this shit. Seriously, I had to google all these photos, and my blood boiled as I had to copy and paste them to make this picture. This is what you see when you get to hell. It's just a small room with this as the wallpaper.
- Haley Joel Osment
- The lead singer of Sum 41
- Brendan Fraser
- Patton Oswalt
Tell me you would not deck all four of these people in the face just because their face calls for it. If you say you wouldn’t you are only lying to yourself. If I leave you in a room with a photo of these four, I guarantee you will want to slam your fist directly into their nose within minutes.
Tell me you wouldn't. I'm getting angry right now just looking at this shit. Seriously, I had to google all these photos, and my blood boiled as I had to copy and paste them to make this picture. This is what you see when you get to hell. It's just a small room with this as the wallpaper.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
More Religious Questioning (I Realize It Is Getting Old But Someone Has To Do It)
If those really crazy, evangelical Christians doing insane things aren’t the real Christians, if the priests who molested young boys aren’t the real Christians, if the Christians who don’t practice what they preach aren’t the real Christians, if kids that can’t comprehend it all aren’t the real Christians, if the people who just say they are Christian to identify with it or to keep their family happy aren’t the real Christians, then I have a question: Just how many Christians really exist?
Thursday, September 17, 2009
If This Doesn't Bring You Joy...Go Ahead, Kill Yourself
Lately I have been obsessed with Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys. You should be too. No matter what it takes, get your ears to listen to this album from every conceivable angle within your brain. I wrote a really long peice about this topic, which I may post, but for now, check out this a capella version of "God Only Knows." Do yourself a favor and get rid of all distractions and listen especially close to 1:48 through the finish.
Confusing Concepts
God is a beautiful concept. The idea that someone is there watching over us helping us is a warm, comfortable feeling, but it isn’t real. It is a nice concept, but it’s made up. Nature is god, though. Just the way things work in nature. That is just as beautiful. Nature is the most beautiful thing. The way things work and interact with one another. And, nature is god, so therefore, god is nature and it is a beautiful concept. People like to think of god as a ruler. A ruler that rules over us. That is not a beautiful concept. A controlling being. That is actually an ugly concept. There is a very fine line. A fine line between the beautifulness of the freeness of god and the ugliness of the ruler of god. Don’t mix them up. God is not a supreme ruler looking for power. You know who that is? Hitler, Stalin. That is not a beautiful concept. The concept of Gandhi or Jesus is far more beautiful. A supreme being that watches over us attempting to help, but never attempting to control for its own sake. That is the different between god and nature in the way most people think about them. God does things for his own satisfaction, nature just does them because that is how it works.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Math I Didn't Learn In School
Exorcist =
(Psychiatrist + Religious Fanaticism) - (Rationality + Doctorate)
___________________________________________________
(Human - Common Sense)
(Psychiatrist + Religious Fanaticism) - (Rationality + Doctorate)
___________________________________________________
(Human - Common Sense)
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Insanity
You can never say someone is “insane” because you never really know what they are feeling inside. They haven’t told you their every thought. You don’t know what is going through their head. Who is to say your reality and the way you see things is right, and they are totally wrong and see the world from a wrong point of view? Really, there are no wrong point of views. How do you know what life is for someone else? You don’t. Life could be something totally different for that other person in their brain. The way you see things and they way things work in your brain and the way you perceive the world could be totally different from the way someone else sees it. As an example, think about color blind people. They see colors different from other people, but who is to say they are wrong? They are right, for them. No, that thing is not green, it is red. It is red to them, it doesn’t matter how many people tell them it is green. This can be attributed to life. Just because I see something totally different than someone else, and the majority doesn’t agree with me, in no way, makes the majority any more right. It just means more people as a group see it that way. As it is seen, we all have the capacity to “be” insane. We all have the ability to reach that point where we are so different that the majority cannot understand. Because, isn’t that what insanity is? The point reached within your own head where you are so different and so unique that you cannot be understood by the masses, or by the “norm” base level of thinking? Nietzsche is a great example. Sure he “went” insane in the later part of his life, but wasn’t he almost always insane as an adult? Wasn’t he always very hard to understand and misunderstood by the masses? Wasn’t he always one of the only few people who could understand the ideas that he was trying to get across. Insanity is just the point where you are the only person who can identify with your thoughts. Brain Wilson is another man who “went” insane later in his life. But, yet again, wasn’t he always like that in his adult life? So above regular thought, so able to see things from a different perspective that others could not identify with what he was thinking, and doing musically. He was doing things that people could not comprehend as musicians, even other musicians. He was ahead of his time. Even when someone thought something sounded nearly perfect, Brian Wilson could hear it on another level and knew where it didn’t sound quite right. Of course, people knew they couldn’t identify with it, but they knew the end result was going to be excellent. They couldn’t understand how he got there, but they could appreciate and marvel at the results, only wishing their mind could get to a point where they were able to hear at as deep a level as he did. One more thing on this insanity issue: If you put a “normal” man in a mental institute long enough, he will “go” insane.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
More Condescending Pointless Nonsensical Ideas
One of the biggest problems in the world is lack of understanding. Actually, more importantly, a lack of trying to understand. Because, if you don’t try to understand, you will never be able to identify with, or see something from someone else’s point of view. Without understanding, you get prejudice, hate, racism, and ignorance. If one never attempts or tries to see why someone does something else, they just throw out the person’s perspective on things. “Oh, he just does that because he’s black.” Well, instead of prejudging, instead, try to understand why they are doing what they are doing. Attempt to become their mind and see why they do the things they do. Because, everyone just does things that they do. They do it for a reason. Their entire life, up to the point of that decision, has been a map to get them to make that choice about life. And, if you lived their life, the exact same way, every emotion, every action, every second, since birth, wouldn’t you be doing the same thing they are doing? Instead of prejudging, put yourself in someone else’s shoes and realize that they are most likely only doing it because their life has led them to that point. Don’t hate, prejudge, and live without understanding, instead, attempt to love and understand.
Eating Pizza At A Deep Level Of Thought
I was eating my pizza backwards as I always do, and I had this thought: Bite the worst of life early on. Then, the rest is more enjoyable. If you get all the bad stuff out of the way early on, you can enjoy life more later on by comparison. If you live in hell, heaven is better. By comparison, heaven is even better than imagined. Go to hell first, then go to heaven afterwards. Start out at the lower end. Do the worst thing first. Get it out of the way. Then, the rest of your life is better by comparison and you can enjoy it that much more because you know what it feels like to be on the lower end. Eating pizza backwards at that deep of a thought level. Sometimes I impress even myself.
Friday, September 4, 2009
...Continuing The Thought Of The Previous Post
This world, this society, these people, crucified Jesus. And, I would have been one of the guys listening to what he had to say. Do a lot of these Christians really believe that they would have followed Jesus when it was just Jesus and his 12 friends? I doubt it. You would have ignored him like you do the people preaching something new and innovative on the street corner. The way you treat a person like that is the way you would have treated Jesus. Because that’s all that Jesus was. He was a guy standing there as people walked by preaching about life. And, he had a few people listen up and stop and take notice. I would have been one of those few to at least give him a shot. The rest of the people, just as you do now with someone who is being different and “weird” you walk by and make fun of instead of attempting to listen. Most of the Christians now would have ignored Jesus had they lived in his time. This is all just evident and based on the way they treat people now who act like Jesus acted in his society. The weird preacher man with a few followers yelling about life. In fact, as I stated in my opening, not only would most of these Christians not even know he Jesus was had they lived in his time, a lot of them would have had him crucified. Because, what Jesus was doing was so different and radical and against the norm that people didn’t want to hear it. Just like when someone preaches out against something a Christian now is saying. That is what Jesus was doing. He was preaching out against the norm, preaching a totally new way of life, a totally new style that scared the church at the time. And, to a Christian now, what Jesus was doing back then is actually blasphemy. Most Christians now would have accused Jesus of blasphemy instead of listening to what he had to say. Most would have gotten upset and angry that he was challenging established orders and rituals and would have wanted him shut up. They would have made it so that he couldn’t share his “scary” ideas with the rest of society. Just like Christians now attempt to shut up someone preaching a new way of life, you would have done the same to Jesus had you lived in his time. So, all I am saying to these Christians is to listen up and attempt to hear another’s opinion before hating. If you don’t, you are just going to crucify the next Christ before he ever gets the chance to share what he has with the world. In fact, who is to say you haven’t already killed one or more people who could have done what Jesus did?
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Thoughts That Came To Me While Watching A Man Preach By Yelling In The Middle Of The Walkway At The Boston Common
You people (society) would ignore Jesus if he came here. And, if you didn’t ignore him, you would crucify him. What has society learned in these 2000+ years since Jesus died? What has the story taught most people? Nothing. They would still ignore this man on the side of the street yelling religious convictions. Or, they would pay attention for a minute and make sure he is shut up right away. Instead of trying to understand, instead of trying to take a minute to listen to someone else and something they feel is extremely important, you would all just walk by and think he is a weirdo. You would all just ignore him as much as you could, like he doesn’t exist, and walk on by. You wouldn’t even let him enter your mind. Or, if he did enter your mind, you would snicker and laugh at this man for doing such a weird thing. You people would laugh at Jesus. Because, this man is doing what Jesus would be doing. And, what do you do? You walk by and ignore, or you walk by and judge and laugh at. Because, you are too afraid to understand. Or, you don’t have the time to bother.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Beach Boys - Hang On To Your Ego
Sometimes, other people say it better than I ever can:
"I know so many people who think they can do it alone. They isolate their heads and stay in their saftey zones.
What can you tell them? What can you say that won't make them defensive?
Hang on to your ego. Hang on, but I know that you're gonna lose the fight.
They come on like their peaceful, but inside they're so uptight. They trip through the day, and waste all their thoughts at night.
Now how can I say it? And how can I come on when I know I'm guilty?
Yeah.
Hang on to your ego. Hang on, but I know that you're gonna lose the fight.
Now how can I say it? And how can I come on when I know I'm guilty?
So, hang on to your ego. Hang on, but I know that you're gonna lose the fight"
"I know so many people who think they can do it alone. They isolate their heads and stay in their saftey zones.
What can you tell them? What can you say that won't make them defensive?
Hang on to your ego. Hang on, but I know that you're gonna lose the fight.
They come on like their peaceful, but inside they're so uptight. They trip through the day, and waste all their thoughts at night.
Now how can I say it? And how can I come on when I know I'm guilty?
Yeah.
Hang on to your ego. Hang on, but I know that you're gonna lose the fight.
Now how can I say it? And how can I come on when I know I'm guilty?
So, hang on to your ego. Hang on, but I know that you're gonna lose the fight"
Friday, August 14, 2009
Two Quick Things
A million people die of suicide in a year, more than are murdered. So, I have a way to solve both the suicide and murder problems. Have the murderers kill the suicidal. Problem solved. Thank you very much. World hunger - check. Suicide - check. Murder - check. Next up - getting that “New York” chick off my television screen. I realize there are a few left over suicides because the murder rate is less than the suicide rate, but I’m not perfect.
Stand up comedians have all these funny, original ideas that take time and talent to think of, write, and perfect, but we barely get paid, if at all. Keep in mind that while this is all going on, there are people who make a living as “animal communicators” AKA “pet physics” AKA Dr. Dolittle. Keep at it.
Stand up comedians have all these funny, original ideas that take time and talent to think of, write, and perfect, but we barely get paid, if at all. Keep in mind that while this is all going on, there are people who make a living as “animal communicators” AKA “pet physics” AKA Dr. Dolittle. Keep at it.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Friedrich Nietzsche
“The higher a man gets, the smaller he seems to those who cannot fly.”
“Perhaps I know best why it is man alone who laughs; he alone suffers so deeply that he had to invent laughter”
“Great thinkers choose their own company, no?” - this one was from the movie When Nietzsche Wept, so I'm not sure if it is actually his direct quote, but it's good enough to include.
“Perhaps I know best why it is man alone who laughs; he alone suffers so deeply that he had to invent laughter”
“Great thinkers choose their own company, no?” - this one was from the movie When Nietzsche Wept, so I'm not sure if it is actually his direct quote, but it's good enough to include.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
A Full Piece (on circumcision)
What is the most popular surgery in the US? It’s performed one million times a year, 3,000 times a day, and once every 26 seconds. It costs $400 each time it’s performed and makes $400,000,000 a year. Here’s one more clue: It’s done to over 60% of newborns. That’s right. Circumcision. The most popular surgery in the United States is one in which a doctor makes your baby go into shock when he cuts off half the surface tissue of your babies penis. And to think, I thought just a boob job was a bad idea. A doctor pulls the foreskin of your child’s penis up and over a metal object called a bell, like a cookie cutter, and slices it off using something resembling an X-Acto knife. I hope you realize this is what you most likely did to your son. Now maybe you know why he acts like a brat most of the time.
I honestly believe that no one ever stops and thinks about things before they make decisions. Not just small decisions. Huge decisions. I’m not talking about decisions like boxers or briefs, I’m talking about the decision to cut off your child’s penis. Someone, somewhere, please, for the sake of my sanity, explain circumcision to me. I cannot grasp the idea. Someone, who has thought this whole thing over, come to me, and tell me why it even entered your mind.
Who first thought of this custom? Whoever did was missing more of their brain than their child’s soon to be mutilated penis. Where did it come from? No, “The Blacks” is not the correct answer. “The Mexicans” either, you racist fuck. Who actually sat down one day and said, “Let’s cut off the foreskin of our young boys.” Then, added, “And, let’s make fun of those who don’t do it.” I can’t believe two people agreed to this, let alone a large portion of America. Why is it that having a normal full penis with all the foreskin that you have at birth is considered odd? I just don’t get it, really. Honestly, someone let me know. I‘m at the point of pleading.
Circumcision is the most odd belief ever! Yes, ever! It tops them all. The Mormons and Scientologists combined don‘t reach the epic point of absurdity of this idea. I don’t want this column to be about religion, but people use it as a reason for circumcision. This is what you get when the masses stop thinking and listen to a group of echo brains starving our species of any useful knowledge by consistently stifling evolution through their black hole brain vortexes.
The religious reasoning is that, “It is the word of God.” That makes total sense. God forgot to cut off the tips of our dicks before letting us be born. So, what you are saying is that one time within history God specifically said, “Cut the skin off the head of your newborn children’s penises.” People will believe anything. ANY-FUCKING-THING. If you can get two parents to agree to cut off part of their child’s penis right after he is born, you can get people to do and believe anything you can possibly think up. Anything.
One thing that really bothers me is that I was always made to feel like the weirdo because I am uncircumcised. I’ll admit, I’m little bitter because I heard peers make fun of my full-cocked friends. I’d call you a dickhead, but you don’t have one. Plus, I don’t want to lower myself to that condescending level. I do, however, want to point out to these people that my dick is full and it has all the parts. Yours is deformed. If you really think about it, circumcision is just slight castration, so live with the fact that your dick has been fucked with. Just so you know, they are making your dick smaller when they do this. The truth hurts. More so than this procedure.
With circumcision, all the blame is with the parents. Babies are curious and like to play around with their “weiner” to see what’s going on down there. However, no child would ever decide to willingly cut off his penis. My 16 month old nephew walks around naked tugging on the damn thing, but I don‘t foresee him pulling any knives on it. I would have gone through life hating my parents if they had this done to me. I probably would have grabbed an X-Acto knife and attacked them by now. I might have even used a bell. I just want to stop and say thank you, Mom and Dad. Thank you for not being totally retarded. Or Jewish.
Even though most parents in this country do this doesn’t mean that it’s right. Again, I bring it back to religion, simply because it ties in with this debate. Just because a large portion of people believe one thing doesn’t mean it makes any more sense than the minority opinion. When I stop and think about this circumcision thing, I come to the conclusion that it isn’t me who is nuts, but everyone else. I realize that the majority of parents in this country cut off part of their child’s dick and think it’s normal! One of my favorite Nietzsche quotes is relevant here; “In individuals, insanity is rare; but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule.” Circumcision is a social problem that must be addressed.
One more note for the parents; do you know what the hospital does with the foreskin of your baby once they cut it off? They throw it into the trash. Like Mick Foley’s ear. I don’t need part of my dick thrown away in some hospital trash bin. If you don’t believe this, call the hospital. It’s not a joke, although I wish it was. If they do save it, they use it for reconstructive surgery to help people with skin problems, such as burn victims. Therefore, there is a guy walking around literally with a dick on his face. Just like your girlfriend later.
I want one reason why this is a good practice. That’s all I’m asking. Uncircumcised men have lived from the beginning of time with no problems.. There are no circumcised animals. I have never seen a circumcised giraffe, and if you have, please let me know about it. I’m no scientist (although I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night), but I know that our bodies are the way they need to be. In the parts that they aren’t, evolution is working to correct them (oops…that’s right, you don’t believe in evolution). If we don’t need our foreskin, it will go away. But, we do need it. It is there fore a reason.
There is not one piece of evidence that supports this procedure. It does no good. Supporters like to give the reason of cleanliness. Sure, you can say it keeps it cleaner…IF YOU DON’T WASH YOUR DICK! If you know how to take care of yourself and actually wash your sack once in a while, you are fine. Another fact supporters like to bring up is that it can prevent STDs if you have your foreskin removed. Good point. But, then again, if you want to get real serious, you can prevent all STDs if you cut off your entire penis. That isn’t a solution, either (even better point). It’s called wearing a condom and it prevents more than just STDs. It prevents bringing another group of the failed social experiment known as humanity who think up ideas like this onto this mistaken planet.
The main reason for circumcision now is for aesthetic purposes. In other words, so you will look like the majority of other men in America. Parents want to get it done to make their child fit in so you won’t be made fun of later in his life. Listen, lady, leave the kid’s poor cock alone. That Mohawk he is going to want to sport in second grade will get him made fun of anyway. The only kids that go throughout school without ever getting made fun of grow up to be Al Capone. Plus, if he isn’t proud of his dick by the time he’s in high school, he’s fucked anyway (not literally). Learn how to be a good parent and maybe he’ll be proud of who he is. Why are you so obsessed about how other guys feel about his dick? I could honestly give two shits less about what a group of other dudes thinks about mine. They aren’t going to be the ones that suck it. I realize that was harsh and makes me sound like a male chauvinist pig, but, then again, it was total necessary. Plus, I’m not a male chauvinist. A pig, yes, but not a male chauvinist.
This brings me to the sexual aspect of circumcision. I have heard women say, “Ewww, it looks so gross. I have never been with an uncircumcised guy, and I don’t think I ever would.” First of all, you might have, and second, yes you would. As, far being grossed out, I hate to inform you…but it’s a dick! What did you think you were going to find down there? The Sistine Chapel? I was dating a girl who I had given me oral sex at least five times, but she still couldn’t tell I was uncircumcised. When a conversation came up she went so far as to try to tell me that I was. She said she had been with someone who was and she could tell the difference. I tell you this not to be totally dirty and disgusting, although I take pride in that, but to show you how uneducated people are about this topic.
It doesn’t look that different. Trust me. How do I know? I watch a lot of porn. Plus, my friends and I enjoy playing a game of pull your dick out and make the other guy look at it. One of those two previous sentences was a joke, and, I leave it up to you to figure out which one. People always want to know, “Does if it feels different sexually?” Yes. Better. Both to you and your partner. Why do you think they make condoms ribbed? Think about it. In addition, you have nerve endings in the foreskin that give you much more feeling and also let you know when you’re going to cum. So, not only does it feel better, it makes you a better in bed. Circumcised men who have had the top of their dick cut off will never get that insanely awesome feeling when you put it inside her and the foreskin pulls back. Sorry.
Before I leave you, I have one more disturbing note about this. There are grown men who hate their cocks so much that they willingly get this procedure done during adult life. They go into a doctor’s office knowing that they are going to pay him to cut off part of their dick. Remove all societal “norms” and picture a scenario where a grown man willingly goes into a building as an adult and lets another man cut off the skin on his penis. And, now, realize that has happened…
…Now that you are out of the mental institution, I bring you back to the column…Seriously, what is wrong with people? I saw a documentary where a man got circumcised because his wife was Jewish and wanted him to do it and I thought, “Hey, numbskull, maybe your wife would fuck you if you were confident about what you had for a dick, instead committing penis suicide.”
A man’s penis is his world. If you couldn’t tell by now, we are motivated by our cocks about 98% of the time. It’s so important, so vital to life, but people want to go fucking around with it. Hacking it up, cutting part of it off, snipping it, ripping it, tearing it, and ruining it. Destroying the very essence of it when the boy is young baby and has no say in the matter. Please, parents, leave your children out of the outdated idiotic religious rituals.
In conclusion, I leave you with my biggest question of all regarding circumcision: Why are adults playing around with kid’s penises, in any way shape or form anyway?
I honestly believe that no one ever stops and thinks about things before they make decisions. Not just small decisions. Huge decisions. I’m not talking about decisions like boxers or briefs, I’m talking about the decision to cut off your child’s penis. Someone, somewhere, please, for the sake of my sanity, explain circumcision to me. I cannot grasp the idea. Someone, who has thought this whole thing over, come to me, and tell me why it even entered your mind.
Who first thought of this custom? Whoever did was missing more of their brain than their child’s soon to be mutilated penis. Where did it come from? No, “The Blacks” is not the correct answer. “The Mexicans” either, you racist fuck. Who actually sat down one day and said, “Let’s cut off the foreskin of our young boys.” Then, added, “And, let’s make fun of those who don’t do it.” I can’t believe two people agreed to this, let alone a large portion of America. Why is it that having a normal full penis with all the foreskin that you have at birth is considered odd? I just don’t get it, really. Honestly, someone let me know. I‘m at the point of pleading.
Circumcision is the most odd belief ever! Yes, ever! It tops them all. The Mormons and Scientologists combined don‘t reach the epic point of absurdity of this idea. I don’t want this column to be about religion, but people use it as a reason for circumcision. This is what you get when the masses stop thinking and listen to a group of echo brains starving our species of any useful knowledge by consistently stifling evolution through their black hole brain vortexes.
The religious reasoning is that, “It is the word of God.” That makes total sense. God forgot to cut off the tips of our dicks before letting us be born. So, what you are saying is that one time within history God specifically said, “Cut the skin off the head of your newborn children’s penises.” People will believe anything. ANY-FUCKING-THING. If you can get two parents to agree to cut off part of their child’s penis right after he is born, you can get people to do and believe anything you can possibly think up. Anything.
One thing that really bothers me is that I was always made to feel like the weirdo because I am uncircumcised. I’ll admit, I’m little bitter because I heard peers make fun of my full-cocked friends. I’d call you a dickhead, but you don’t have one. Plus, I don’t want to lower myself to that condescending level. I do, however, want to point out to these people that my dick is full and it has all the parts. Yours is deformed. If you really think about it, circumcision is just slight castration, so live with the fact that your dick has been fucked with. Just so you know, they are making your dick smaller when they do this. The truth hurts. More so than this procedure.
With circumcision, all the blame is with the parents. Babies are curious and like to play around with their “weiner” to see what’s going on down there. However, no child would ever decide to willingly cut off his penis. My 16 month old nephew walks around naked tugging on the damn thing, but I don‘t foresee him pulling any knives on it. I would have gone through life hating my parents if they had this done to me. I probably would have grabbed an X-Acto knife and attacked them by now. I might have even used a bell. I just want to stop and say thank you, Mom and Dad. Thank you for not being totally retarded. Or Jewish.
Even though most parents in this country do this doesn’t mean that it’s right. Again, I bring it back to religion, simply because it ties in with this debate. Just because a large portion of people believe one thing doesn’t mean it makes any more sense than the minority opinion. When I stop and think about this circumcision thing, I come to the conclusion that it isn’t me who is nuts, but everyone else. I realize that the majority of parents in this country cut off part of their child’s dick and think it’s normal! One of my favorite Nietzsche quotes is relevant here; “In individuals, insanity is rare; but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule.” Circumcision is a social problem that must be addressed.
One more note for the parents; do you know what the hospital does with the foreskin of your baby once they cut it off? They throw it into the trash. Like Mick Foley’s ear. I don’t need part of my dick thrown away in some hospital trash bin. If you don’t believe this, call the hospital. It’s not a joke, although I wish it was. If they do save it, they use it for reconstructive surgery to help people with skin problems, such as burn victims. Therefore, there is a guy walking around literally with a dick on his face. Just like your girlfriend later.
I want one reason why this is a good practice. That’s all I’m asking. Uncircumcised men have lived from the beginning of time with no problems.. There are no circumcised animals. I have never seen a circumcised giraffe, and if you have, please let me know about it. I’m no scientist (although I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night), but I know that our bodies are the way they need to be. In the parts that they aren’t, evolution is working to correct them (oops…that’s right, you don’t believe in evolution). If we don’t need our foreskin, it will go away. But, we do need it. It is there fore a reason.
There is not one piece of evidence that supports this procedure. It does no good. Supporters like to give the reason of cleanliness. Sure, you can say it keeps it cleaner…IF YOU DON’T WASH YOUR DICK! If you know how to take care of yourself and actually wash your sack once in a while, you are fine. Another fact supporters like to bring up is that it can prevent STDs if you have your foreskin removed. Good point. But, then again, if you want to get real serious, you can prevent all STDs if you cut off your entire penis. That isn’t a solution, either (even better point). It’s called wearing a condom and it prevents more than just STDs. It prevents bringing another group of the failed social experiment known as humanity who think up ideas like this onto this mistaken planet.
The main reason for circumcision now is for aesthetic purposes. In other words, so you will look like the majority of other men in America. Parents want to get it done to make their child fit in so you won’t be made fun of later in his life. Listen, lady, leave the kid’s poor cock alone. That Mohawk he is going to want to sport in second grade will get him made fun of anyway. The only kids that go throughout school without ever getting made fun of grow up to be Al Capone. Plus, if he isn’t proud of his dick by the time he’s in high school, he’s fucked anyway (not literally). Learn how to be a good parent and maybe he’ll be proud of who he is. Why are you so obsessed about how other guys feel about his dick? I could honestly give two shits less about what a group of other dudes thinks about mine. They aren’t going to be the ones that suck it. I realize that was harsh and makes me sound like a male chauvinist pig, but, then again, it was total necessary. Plus, I’m not a male chauvinist. A pig, yes, but not a male chauvinist.
This brings me to the sexual aspect of circumcision. I have heard women say, “Ewww, it looks so gross. I have never been with an uncircumcised guy, and I don’t think I ever would.” First of all, you might have, and second, yes you would. As, far being grossed out, I hate to inform you…but it’s a dick! What did you think you were going to find down there? The Sistine Chapel? I was dating a girl who I had given me oral sex at least five times, but she still couldn’t tell I was uncircumcised. When a conversation came up she went so far as to try to tell me that I was. She said she had been with someone who was and she could tell the difference. I tell you this not to be totally dirty and disgusting, although I take pride in that, but to show you how uneducated people are about this topic.
It doesn’t look that different. Trust me. How do I know? I watch a lot of porn. Plus, my friends and I enjoy playing a game of pull your dick out and make the other guy look at it. One of those two previous sentences was a joke, and, I leave it up to you to figure out which one. People always want to know, “Does if it feels different sexually?” Yes. Better. Both to you and your partner. Why do you think they make condoms ribbed? Think about it. In addition, you have nerve endings in the foreskin that give you much more feeling and also let you know when you’re going to cum. So, not only does it feel better, it makes you a better in bed. Circumcised men who have had the top of their dick cut off will never get that insanely awesome feeling when you put it inside her and the foreskin pulls back. Sorry.
Before I leave you, I have one more disturbing note about this. There are grown men who hate their cocks so much that they willingly get this procedure done during adult life. They go into a doctor’s office knowing that they are going to pay him to cut off part of their dick. Remove all societal “norms” and picture a scenario where a grown man willingly goes into a building as an adult and lets another man cut off the skin on his penis. And, now, realize that has happened…
…Now that you are out of the mental institution, I bring you back to the column…Seriously, what is wrong with people? I saw a documentary where a man got circumcised because his wife was Jewish and wanted him to do it and I thought, “Hey, numbskull, maybe your wife would fuck you if you were confident about what you had for a dick, instead committing penis suicide.”
A man’s penis is his world. If you couldn’t tell by now, we are motivated by our cocks about 98% of the time. It’s so important, so vital to life, but people want to go fucking around with it. Hacking it up, cutting part of it off, snipping it, ripping it, tearing it, and ruining it. Destroying the very essence of it when the boy is young baby and has no say in the matter. Please, parents, leave your children out of the outdated idiotic religious rituals.
In conclusion, I leave you with my biggest question of all regarding circumcision: Why are adults playing around with kid’s penises, in any way shape or form anyway?
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Censorship
FX once showed “The Departed” on TV. The funny thing is, that whenever there was profanity, they cut out the swears. In the end, when the two cops are in the elevator they edit the dialogue so Sullivan says, “Just freakin kill me. Just freakin kill me.” Then, Costello is shot right in the head, and they don’t edit it! There are a total of three men shot at point blank range and there is no censorship whatsoever, but they cut out “fucking.” Does this make any sense? Essentially this means that it is ok to watch people get shot right in the temple, but not for them to swear about it beforehand.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Philosophy, Thoughts, Quotes
Don’t think about the past or present Just this moment. Nothing else. To get to total peace. Total peace of mind. Living in “The Now.” Live in “The Now” to have total peace and tranquility. There is nothing to worry about. There is only right here and now. Get to that moment and stay there. A lot of great thinkers did that. Buddha. Eternal peace of mind. Living in that one moment, at total peace with yourself and all around you.
No one has an answer. Not one. Every living person. No one knows the mystery of life. Not one single person alive on this planet knows the answer to the mystery of life. And, no one will. Because, it is a mystery. That is part of its essence. Its make up. That’s what makes it what it is.
This is about as serious as an MTV movie award.
Quotes that spoke to me:
“Why worry about something that wouldn’t happen?” Jack Pitroff
“I’m a slave to the rhythm.” - Michael Jackson Oprah interview.
“Well, it’s sad all over, really. You know? Uh…it’s hard for me to express how much sadness that I’ve went through to reach this point of understanding I’m now talking to you from.” - Charles Manson
“I don’t have time to question everything.” - Jack Pitroff
"If you're not a good human being, I don't give a shit what you are." Serj Tankian.
"All good men deserve a second chance." from one of the Superman movies
“It’s hard to stay mad when there’s so much beauty in the world.” - American Beauty.
"It's as it always was, on the brink, with good fighting evil." - Superman
"The whole world is beautiful." - Superman
“There’s no good ice cream in this house” (This was said while there were 15 ice cream jars in the freezer) - My dad
"Never set one of them above the rest. Love all humanity instead." - Superman.
“When you are willing to become a servant for other people, they want to make you a master.” Charles Manson
No one has an answer. Not one. Every living person. No one knows the mystery of life. Not one single person alive on this planet knows the answer to the mystery of life. And, no one will. Because, it is a mystery. That is part of its essence. Its make up. That’s what makes it what it is.
This is about as serious as an MTV movie award.
Quotes that spoke to me:
“Why worry about something that wouldn’t happen?” Jack Pitroff
“I’m a slave to the rhythm.” - Michael Jackson Oprah interview.
“Well, it’s sad all over, really. You know? Uh…it’s hard for me to express how much sadness that I’ve went through to reach this point of understanding I’m now talking to you from.” - Charles Manson
“I don’t have time to question everything.” - Jack Pitroff
"If you're not a good human being, I don't give a shit what you are." Serj Tankian.
"All good men deserve a second chance." from one of the Superman movies
“It’s hard to stay mad when there’s so much beauty in the world.” - American Beauty.
"It's as it always was, on the brink, with good fighting evil." - Superman
"The whole world is beautiful." - Superman
“There’s no good ice cream in this house” (This was said while there were 15 ice cream jars in the freezer) - My dad
"Never set one of them above the rest. Love all humanity instead." - Superman.
“When you are willing to become a servant for other people, they want to make you a master.” Charles Manson
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Here...
I write as much as an alcoholic drinks. As much as a heroin addict shoots up. As much as a Furry dresses up to fuck.
Imagine you’re at a bar and you see one of the girls from 2 Girls 1 Cup. Would you tell her you recognize her? Would she want you to? Would she be weirded out? I think she would want you to tell her. She was obviously proud of what she was doing, because she had it filmed. I don’t know though, I don’t think I could bring that up easily during conversation.
Ways in which the world is fucked up: Some people wear little to no clothes because they can’t afford them. Others wear $250 shirts for no reason other than to impress other people. Talk about rubbing it in.
I went soul searching and I found myself.
Depression pills are like a band-aid for a stab wound.
My teacher always said that absence makes the heart grow fonder but then she got mad when I skipped class.
Vegetable oil: What happens when a person in a coma doesn’t shower.
I write really well. You should see my “A”s. They are especially good.
In the garden of life, you are the manure and I am the flower that grows because of it.
Just what the hell does “continental” mean in “continental breakfast”?
I held a gun up to a guy pointing a gun at me and said, “Speak now or forever hold your piece.”
Our family always had the dryer that shook.
I can never spell cigarettes right. That is my downfall in life.
The guy who thought of the IQ test must have had a high IQ, but there was no way to know that for sure.
You have to volunteer to be a volunteer.
We’re all dead, just not yet.
In sane moments you become insane.
I’m so far sane, I’m in it.
I don’t care if my generation started it, I never type or say, “lol.” Fuck, I just did. But that was only to explain it to you.
Turn jealousy into motivation to do better for yourself. Turn a naturally occurring negative emotion into a positive change in your life.
If Pinnochio never lied, that story would be a lot less interesting.
Signs of the end of the world: you can bet online about who you think is going to win a hot dog eating contest.
The majority of Facebook “friends” are like the “friends” at the bar that wouldn’t talk to you unless they were drunk.
Remember when Fred Durst was considered cool…oh wait…was he ever? Well, actually he was for a little while there. What the hell was that all about, anyway?
What happens if you take mushrooms while looking at a mirage?
I saw an Army commercial where a woman who had joined the Army said, “My self-confidence just went through the roof.” Self-confidence through murder. Uplifting. Great ideals to live by.
The sun is so bright that we can’t look at it, so how do we know what it looks like?
Carlin said, “You know what you never see? A really good-looking homeless couple.” But, you never see a hot homeless chick at all. Because, good looking people have it easier. People want them around more to look at. If you are hot and homeless and a chick, someone will come get you and let you live with them so they can fuck you once you shower. The shower part might not even be a necessity for some men.
People I Can Do Without: Anyone who attempts to French kiss a prostitute.
Have you ever been in such deep thought that your mind can’t keep up with itself and you lose all sense of what is going on the world except the very moment and the bleeding thought moving through your mind so fast it’s nearly incomprehensible? No? I didn’t think so.
Be like zero. Necessary. But unnecessary. One of the most important numbers, but people don’t even consider you a number because you are “nothing.” Be like that in life.
That’s all you get for now.
Imagine you’re at a bar and you see one of the girls from 2 Girls 1 Cup. Would you tell her you recognize her? Would she want you to? Would she be weirded out? I think she would want you to tell her. She was obviously proud of what she was doing, because she had it filmed. I don’t know though, I don’t think I could bring that up easily during conversation.
Ways in which the world is fucked up: Some people wear little to no clothes because they can’t afford them. Others wear $250 shirts for no reason other than to impress other people. Talk about rubbing it in.
I went soul searching and I found myself.
Depression pills are like a band-aid for a stab wound.
My teacher always said that absence makes the heart grow fonder but then she got mad when I skipped class.
Vegetable oil: What happens when a person in a coma doesn’t shower.
I write really well. You should see my “A”s. They are especially good.
In the garden of life, you are the manure and I am the flower that grows because of it.
Just what the hell does “continental” mean in “continental breakfast”?
I held a gun up to a guy pointing a gun at me and said, “Speak now or forever hold your piece.”
Our family always had the dryer that shook.
I can never spell cigarettes right. That is my downfall in life.
The guy who thought of the IQ test must have had a high IQ, but there was no way to know that for sure.
You have to volunteer to be a volunteer.
We’re all dead, just not yet.
In sane moments you become insane.
I’m so far sane, I’m in it.
I don’t care if my generation started it, I never type or say, “lol.” Fuck, I just did. But that was only to explain it to you.
Turn jealousy into motivation to do better for yourself. Turn a naturally occurring negative emotion into a positive change in your life.
If Pinnochio never lied, that story would be a lot less interesting.
Signs of the end of the world: you can bet online about who you think is going to win a hot dog eating contest.
The majority of Facebook “friends” are like the “friends” at the bar that wouldn’t talk to you unless they were drunk.
Remember when Fred Durst was considered cool…oh wait…was he ever? Well, actually he was for a little while there. What the hell was that all about, anyway?
What happens if you take mushrooms while looking at a mirage?
I saw an Army commercial where a woman who had joined the Army said, “My self-confidence just went through the roof.” Self-confidence through murder. Uplifting. Great ideals to live by.
The sun is so bright that we can’t look at it, so how do we know what it looks like?
Carlin said, “You know what you never see? A really good-looking homeless couple.” But, you never see a hot homeless chick at all. Because, good looking people have it easier. People want them around more to look at. If you are hot and homeless and a chick, someone will come get you and let you live with them so they can fuck you once you shower. The shower part might not even be a necessity for some men.
People I Can Do Without: Anyone who attempts to French kiss a prostitute.
Have you ever been in such deep thought that your mind can’t keep up with itself and you lose all sense of what is going on the world except the very moment and the bleeding thought moving through your mind so fast it’s nearly incomprehensible? No? I didn’t think so.
Be like zero. Necessary. But unnecessary. One of the most important numbers, but people don’t even consider you a number because you are “nothing.” Be like that in life.
That’s all you get for now.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Mystery Of Life
We’re all born into death. We’re born to die. But, do we die to be born (again)? This is the mysterious part.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Random Unused Notes
Match.com and eharmony.com are pimps. And, you are their whore.
Honesty is the best policy but lying will get you the furthest.
Graduation Ceremonies: Who can make the most noise for their kid? Annoying. Your kid sucks, I don’t care how loud you yell. Shut up, sit down, and stop trying to make a scene. Your annoying kid is annoying because you made him annoying because you are extremely annoying.
Something I have noticed in life: laundromats don’t exactly attract the higher ends of society.
Whatever you can think of, it will never be as fucked up as what humans actually do or have done. Think of the most fucked up thing you can do. Imagine it. Now, realize that humans have done far worse. No matter what they do in the movies, it has nothing on what people actually do to each other in the real world.
It’s never too late to become what you want to be.
Disagree to agree is to agree to disagree.
12:60 is 1:00. 2:90 is 3:30.
You ever see someone who is such a bad driver that you have to look at them while you pass them just to see what such a shitty driver looks like?
Hibernation for humans is a coma.
Wolves is to dogs as humans is to midgets.
Smoking pot on the interstate is the highway.
Quote I heard: “Still feels good to be a dad. The D.N.A. test proves it and everything.”
If you live long enough and you are smart enough, you will become a cynic.
Life is just a situation that ended up happening.
I tried to steal camouflage. It was easy. No one saw shit.
The only way to true happiness is through yourself.
Confidence without recognition becomes arrogance.
I want to write so much that people write books analyzing books that I have written.
My goal in life: to be able to confidently wear the outfit Prince wears in the “Dirty Mind” video. As long as I don’t do that twist thing that he does at the end.
A bad fisherman is just a boater.
I look forward onto my life, backwards. Think about that sentence long enough, you will have a psychedelic trip without using drugs.
Wind is the original leaf blower.
Compete against yourself in life.
Learning to ride a bike is just like learning to ride a bike.
I have FUCKING TOURETTE’S SYNDROME!!!
Those two people fuck. That is depressing.
I mispelled misspelled.
Spellcheck needs to be spellchecked. Spellchecked doesn’t.
One of my main goals in life is to be able to get from point A to point B without being accosted for money.
Party Mix snacks consist of tortilla chips, BBQ chips, pretzels, and cheesy poofs. You know what a true party mix is? Liquor, coke, sluts, whores, sex, drugs, and gambling.
Do these words make sense in this order? I guess they do.
Words do these sense make order in this? Those don’t.
Massachusetts College Of Needing A Longer Name Than The Other 5,000 Schools In Massachusetts.
That song, “Blame It On The Alcohol.” Blame what? The shitty song writing?
History is just instances over and over of one man killing another (man). That’s it. Nothing else happens.
Honesty is the best policy but lying will get you the furthest.
Graduation Ceremonies: Who can make the most noise for their kid? Annoying. Your kid sucks, I don’t care how loud you yell. Shut up, sit down, and stop trying to make a scene. Your annoying kid is annoying because you made him annoying because you are extremely annoying.
Something I have noticed in life: laundromats don’t exactly attract the higher ends of society.
Whatever you can think of, it will never be as fucked up as what humans actually do or have done. Think of the most fucked up thing you can do. Imagine it. Now, realize that humans have done far worse. No matter what they do in the movies, it has nothing on what people actually do to each other in the real world.
It’s never too late to become what you want to be.
Disagree to agree is to agree to disagree.
12:60 is 1:00. 2:90 is 3:30.
You ever see someone who is such a bad driver that you have to look at them while you pass them just to see what such a shitty driver looks like?
Hibernation for humans is a coma.
Wolves is to dogs as humans is to midgets.
Smoking pot on the interstate is the highway.
Quote I heard: “Still feels good to be a dad. The D.N.A. test proves it and everything.”
If you live long enough and you are smart enough, you will become a cynic.
Life is just a situation that ended up happening.
I tried to steal camouflage. It was easy. No one saw shit.
The only way to true happiness is through yourself.
Confidence without recognition becomes arrogance.
I want to write so much that people write books analyzing books that I have written.
My goal in life: to be able to confidently wear the outfit Prince wears in the “Dirty Mind” video. As long as I don’t do that twist thing that he does at the end.
A bad fisherman is just a boater.
I look forward onto my life, backwards. Think about that sentence long enough, you will have a psychedelic trip without using drugs.
Wind is the original leaf blower.
Compete against yourself in life.
Learning to ride a bike is just like learning to ride a bike.
I have FUCKING TOURETTE’S SYNDROME!!!
Those two people fuck. That is depressing.
I mispelled misspelled.
Spellcheck needs to be spellchecked. Spellchecked doesn’t.
One of my main goals in life is to be able to get from point A to point B without being accosted for money.
Party Mix snacks consist of tortilla chips, BBQ chips, pretzels, and cheesy poofs. You know what a true party mix is? Liquor, coke, sluts, whores, sex, drugs, and gambling.
Do these words make sense in this order? I guess they do.
Words do these sense make order in this? Those don’t.
Massachusetts College Of Needing A Longer Name Than The Other 5,000 Schools In Massachusetts.
That song, “Blame It On The Alcohol.” Blame what? The shitty song writing?
History is just instances over and over of one man killing another (man). That’s it. Nothing else happens.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Understand This
Perspiring thoughts slide down through my brain, covering all areas, affecting all with my mind twist. Thought steam with the wind becomes one with the world. Parallel to a propeller, my brain waves flow out through the world moon. The only difference? I hold influence over lunar consequences, yet I’m impervious to its usually penetrating power. Bigger than the world I live in. My problem, perhaps? Doubtful. The problem: built within your essence.
Cannot fit inside this area, too constricted by mediocrity. Your walls are four sided, mine: a hexagon even laughable. A living octagon, sided by more than eight times couldn’t attempt to encompass my mind globe. Double? Your mind can only conceive so. Your world flat view, my mind thinks in spheres, encompassing even your highest realm. Continually covering even your most grandiose conception with my banal night contrived conventional contributions. An unnecessary thought: I must think to outthink your thought. (Why waste my space-time?) Sleeping deeper, however higher consciousness than your most alive, awakening god-like Zen moment. Is this what you have for me? I think these godsends void of effort.
Refusal to hold back thought incomprehensible. Understand? My starting point so aloft, unexpected for you to identify with the magnitude. Making sense? Through whose vision? Eyes of god look at me with wonder. His countenance attempts to hold back bewildered amazement, but not even god cannot deceive this intellect. Belittling your very creator, making Him the fool. Necessity to dumb down society for my very presence. Never stooping to your lower level to kowtow to commonplace critical criterion.
Understand this: I’m only understandable to those wanting to understand.
Cannot fit inside this area, too constricted by mediocrity. Your walls are four sided, mine: a hexagon even laughable. A living octagon, sided by more than eight times couldn’t attempt to encompass my mind globe. Double? Your mind can only conceive so. Your world flat view, my mind thinks in spheres, encompassing even your highest realm. Continually covering even your most grandiose conception with my banal night contrived conventional contributions. An unnecessary thought: I must think to outthink your thought. (Why waste my space-time?) Sleeping deeper, however higher consciousness than your most alive, awakening god-like Zen moment. Is this what you have for me? I think these godsends void of effort.
Refusal to hold back thought incomprehensible. Understand? My starting point so aloft, unexpected for you to identify with the magnitude. Making sense? Through whose vision? Eyes of god look at me with wonder. His countenance attempts to hold back bewildered amazement, but not even god cannot deceive this intellect. Belittling your very creator, making Him the fool. Necessity to dumb down society for my very presence. Never stooping to your lower level to kowtow to commonplace critical criterion.
Understand this: I’m only understandable to those wanting to understand.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Philosophy (random god and Jesus talk that will probably be misunderstood)
Get in harmony with life. With nature. With god. Learn to live with yourself, then go from there. Be able to dance with life. Be able to play the music of the gods. Be able to stay in tune with the sway of the trees and the flow of the rivers. Live with nature without ruining it. Be part of nature, not separate from it. Become one with yourself and thus with nature and everything all around you. Don’t hate. Love. Don’t flee. Become. Don’t get involved. Leave alone and let be. The devil and god are both in your heart and both in your mind. Strive to become the goodness that you have in your soul. Strive to only be the good that you are. You will always have the devil inside, but never let it overcome you. Don’t fight with yourself, but overcome yourself so that devil no longer has the power to come up over you and overtake your actions. Let yourself be the god you know is good. Let the Jesus you have inside out so that you can overcome the negative attributes that are the easy road. Don’t ever take the easy road. Take the road you will learn the most from. Take the road others don’t ever dare to take. Take your own way. Forge your own path. Follow nothing but your own intellect. Dream dreams big that you can attain. Continue to learn along the path we know as life. Become insignificant. Become meaningless. Become nothing. Just be here and sway with nature. Follow the signs given to you by nature. Go where life leads you. Take life’s hand and move with it. Be in tune with the signs of nature that warn you of things. Be in tune with the same signs that let you know what to do next with your life. Never be too afraid to do your own thing. Become nothing but who you want to be, totally. Stand up on your own and show others the way to happiness. Never lead, but let others follow. Only lead by the life you lead. Become an example of happiness. Become a showcase of the way life should be lived.
Monday, June 22, 2009
I Find It Interesting...
I find it interesting that when you look at any average Joe walking down the street they could actually be a serial killer. Next time you walk down the street and see someone, just remember, they might have bodies hanging off of meat hooks in their basement.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
An Army Of One
Why would I go to war? I am going to go risk my life attempting to kill people I don’t know so the rest of you can sit around here getting fat and watching TV? I don't think so.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Ask A Douche Bag
Dear Ask A Douche Bag,
I am wondering about my girlfriend. Things were going great for a while, but now she seems distant. She would never take birth control, now she has takes her pill every morning, as she says, “just in case something crazy happens.” She has started calling me less, saying that she is too busy, and always on the phone with her new, “friend.” In addition, she came home a week ago after “a night with the girls” smelling of cologne and had booze on her breathe, and she doesn‘t even drink. Is there something going on here that I should know about.
“Curious In Seattle”
Dear “Curious”
I really don’t think there is anything to worry about. Sometimes, people just like their space. It doesn’t mean that she is cheating on you. She has probably realized that taking birth control is a better idea than having a child she can’t support. The calling less and being too busy are just her trying to play hard to get with you. Her new “friend” is most likely a female coworker who she plans to bake pies with. The cologne and booze smell most likely came from her friends being out at the bar. Those places get pretty crowded sometimes, and rubbing occurs so the cologne probably just wiped off a bit onto her friend. From there, because she was hanging around her friends, it rubbed onto her. Perhaps her friends were drinking and that is why you smelled it on her that night. “Curious” don’t be worried about it, as this is totally normal stuff that goes on in relationships all the time. You have to learn to trust people, especially the person you are with. If you can’t even do that, maybe you should be alone. I wouldn’t be surprised if she dumped you simply because you have, for no good reason, lost trust in her.
I am wondering about my girlfriend. Things were going great for a while, but now she seems distant. She would never take birth control, now she has takes her pill every morning, as she says, “just in case something crazy happens.” She has started calling me less, saying that she is too busy, and always on the phone with her new, “friend.” In addition, she came home a week ago after “a night with the girls” smelling of cologne and had booze on her breathe, and she doesn‘t even drink. Is there something going on here that I should know about.
“Curious In Seattle”
Dear “Curious”
I really don’t think there is anything to worry about. Sometimes, people just like their space. It doesn’t mean that she is cheating on you. She has probably realized that taking birth control is a better idea than having a child she can’t support. The calling less and being too busy are just her trying to play hard to get with you. Her new “friend” is most likely a female coworker who she plans to bake pies with. The cologne and booze smell most likely came from her friends being out at the bar. Those places get pretty crowded sometimes, and rubbing occurs so the cologne probably just wiped off a bit onto her friend. From there, because she was hanging around her friends, it rubbed onto her. Perhaps her friends were drinking and that is why you smelled it on her that night. “Curious” don’t be worried about it, as this is totally normal stuff that goes on in relationships all the time. You have to learn to trust people, especially the person you are with. If you can’t even do that, maybe you should be alone. I wouldn’t be surprised if she dumped you simply because you have, for no good reason, lost trust in her.
Monday, June 8, 2009
A Thought I Feel As Though Is Necessary To Share With The World
Remember Game Genie? That thing was the shit.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Uplifting Post? Finally.
I have been posting a lot of negative things lately, so here are some things that should be uplifting to think about:
The sunshine, sex, the grass growing, riding a four wheeler, camping out, good food, a back rub, intellectual conversation, good times with friends, talking to your mom, looking at old pictures reminiscing, thinking about your childhood, sleeping really deep, fun dreams, road trips, a good wrestling match, the baseline to “The Pot”, dancing, Prince songs, the sound of a keyboard typing, life in general, knowing people on a more than base level, the idea that you have nothing to be paranoid about, the entire Catch 33 album by Meshuggah, Stacy Keibler, my Dad’s orange hat, great meaningful quotes, a good book, the fact that my dad is still better at basketball than me, my 83 year old gram telling me how it is, laughing about stuff, friendship, real love, watching a bird fly and shit on someone, nature as god, James, the fact that this rash is no longer spreading, orange juice, living, personal liberation, freedom, playing cribbage, sitting at the kiddy table even though you are 24, staring at the clouds seeing them as different shapes, bugs in the bushes, swimming, Neville’s doughnuts, listening to crickets, discovering things no one else knows about, warm sand in between your toes (that one sounds kind of gay), owning Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” jacket, quitting your job just because you can, deer, moose, those little boxes of juice that come with the straw attached to them that you always had as a kid, getting your face dirty eating chocolate and not really caring how it looks, hour glasses, getting out of the shower and having a towel to dry off with, cops who don’t arrest you for smoking pot, when you cook ravioli and they don’t break and the cheese remains totally inside of them, guitar solos, learning about life and death from children who can’t even speak yet, mosquitoes who leave you alone, truth, putting that last piece into a puzzle, lighters, Indians and their way of life, hand written letters, log cabins, elephants having sex (don’t lie; you know this makes you smile), those pink shorts that girls wear that say, “Juicy,” thongs, taking into account another’s perspective, saying whatever you want, self discovery (another gay one), sliding down the stairs for fun, sliding down the railing at the subway, running up the escalator the wrong way, enjoying what you do, the fact that the world didn’t blow up on new year’s eve 1999, people who don’t let others get in the way of their good time, bewilderment, picking up hitchhikers and listening to their story, ending something before it gets too redundant.
The sunshine, sex, the grass growing, riding a four wheeler, camping out, good food, a back rub, intellectual conversation, good times with friends, talking to your mom, looking at old pictures reminiscing, thinking about your childhood, sleeping really deep, fun dreams, road trips, a good wrestling match, the baseline to “The Pot”, dancing, Prince songs, the sound of a keyboard typing, life in general, knowing people on a more than base level, the idea that you have nothing to be paranoid about, the entire Catch 33 album by Meshuggah, Stacy Keibler, my Dad’s orange hat, great meaningful quotes, a good book, the fact that my dad is still better at basketball than me, my 83 year old gram telling me how it is, laughing about stuff, friendship, real love, watching a bird fly and shit on someone, nature as god, James, the fact that this rash is no longer spreading, orange juice, living, personal liberation, freedom, playing cribbage, sitting at the kiddy table even though you are 24, staring at the clouds seeing them as different shapes, bugs in the bushes, swimming, Neville’s doughnuts, listening to crickets, discovering things no one else knows about, warm sand in between your toes (that one sounds kind of gay), owning Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” jacket, quitting your job just because you can, deer, moose, those little boxes of juice that come with the straw attached to them that you always had as a kid, getting your face dirty eating chocolate and not really caring how it looks, hour glasses, getting out of the shower and having a towel to dry off with, cops who don’t arrest you for smoking pot, when you cook ravioli and they don’t break and the cheese remains totally inside of them, guitar solos, learning about life and death from children who can’t even speak yet, mosquitoes who leave you alone, truth, putting that last piece into a puzzle, lighters, Indians and their way of life, hand written letters, log cabins, elephants having sex (don’t lie; you know this makes you smile), those pink shorts that girls wear that say, “Juicy,” thongs, taking into account another’s perspective, saying whatever you want, self discovery (another gay one), sliding down the stairs for fun, sliding down the railing at the subway, running up the escalator the wrong way, enjoying what you do, the fact that the world didn’t blow up on new year’s eve 1999, people who don’t let others get in the way of their good time, bewilderment, picking up hitchhikers and listening to their story, ending something before it gets too redundant.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Virgin Mary Found In New Videotape…And It’s A Porno…Starring God Himself.
Friday, October 19, 2007
A recently discovered videotape shows the “virgin” Mary performing sexual acts, including vaginal penetration. Catholic church officials have now decided to drop the “virgin” part of her name, due to its incorrect nature. There was no anal intercourse seen throughout the tape, so she may be referred to as “The Anal Virgin Mary.” God stars in the porno. This was confirmed when, during intercourse, she yells out, “Oh God,” over and over. Neither God nor The Anal Virgin Mary could be reached for comment, since neither of them actually exist.
A recently discovered videotape shows the “virgin” Mary performing sexual acts, including vaginal penetration. Catholic church officials have now decided to drop the “virgin” part of her name, due to its incorrect nature. There was no anal intercourse seen throughout the tape, so she may be referred to as “The Anal Virgin Mary.” God stars in the porno. This was confirmed when, during intercourse, she yells out, “Oh God,” over and over. Neither God nor The Anal Virgin Mary could be reached for comment, since neither of them actually exist.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
My Assassination List
1. Bil Keane: Who is he? Writer, Artist of “Family Circus” comic. You’ve seen it. You know, the one that is always surrounded by a circle and always not funny.
Motive: Insane jealousy over how he is famous and I‘m not. Simply want to kill him because his cartoons are lame and I’m pissed he got famous. His comic is in over a thousand newspapers, has over 80 book compilations, and has been around since 1960. I’m mad at the fact that his comic is the most widely syndicated comic in the world and it isn’t funny whatsoever. In the least. In reality, it is lame and not funny at all. However, what do you expect main stream America to embrace? I need to knock this guy off so I can sleep well at night. I know most comic strips are lame anyway, but this guy takes it to a new level. It has gotten to the point where I now cut out the lamest of “Family Circus” (cutting it out everyday is a daunting task) and sit around at night staring at them wondering how anyone ever wanted to publish anything resembling such shit. I mean, c’mon, he’s been doing this comic strip for more than 40 years. It’s obvious he ran out of ideas three months into it.
Motive: Insane jealousy over how he is famous and I‘m not. Simply want to kill him because his cartoons are lame and I’m pissed he got famous. His comic is in over a thousand newspapers, has over 80 book compilations, and has been around since 1960. I’m mad at the fact that his comic is the most widely syndicated comic in the world and it isn’t funny whatsoever. In the least. In reality, it is lame and not funny at all. However, what do you expect main stream America to embrace? I need to knock this guy off so I can sleep well at night. I know most comic strips are lame anyway, but this guy takes it to a new level. It has gotten to the point where I now cut out the lamest of “Family Circus” (cutting it out everyday is a daunting task) and sit around at night staring at them wondering how anyone ever wanted to publish anything resembling such shit. I mean, c’mon, he’s been doing this comic strip for more than 40 years. It’s obvious he ran out of ideas three months into it.
Back In My Day...
I know this is going to make me sound like one of those old people who thinks his generation was tougher than the current one, but here it is anyway. You know what pisses me off? Having to stop every 20 feet for these little kids on the school bus. Have you ever gotten behind one of these buses? Honestly, they stop every 30 yards. No lie. They are actually delivered right to their door. We are making kids soft. Make these fuckers walk. Drop them off at the end of the street. Why do they need to be bussed RIGHT to their house. Not near, around, or in the vicinity of. But, TO their house. That never happened when I was in school. And, this was only 10, 15 years ago. My ass got dropped off at the end of the street and had to walk. Or, my ass had to walk the whole way to school. If these kids can’t find their way, or get home from the end of their street, their problems are much worse than a school is going to fix anyway.
Plus, I can’t go around the damn bus. It is a moving stop sign. When they stop, that stop sign comes up, and both sides of traffic have to stop. It’s lame. If this kid doesn't learn to avoid cars now, when will he? Then, as I’m sitting there, waiting for the kid to get off the bus, (and fuck, I have shit to do, get the fuck out of my way) the parents come out. The dad comes out to greet the little freak right at the bus door. Helps him down that last few steps. Then, the dad has a conversation with the damn bus driver. For about 2 minutes. And, I am supposed to sit there and wait for this bullshit. These are the types of things that bother me on my way home from work.
Plus, I can’t go around the damn bus. It is a moving stop sign. When they stop, that stop sign comes up, and both sides of traffic have to stop. It’s lame. If this kid doesn't learn to avoid cars now, when will he? Then, as I’m sitting there, waiting for the kid to get off the bus, (and fuck, I have shit to do, get the fuck out of my way) the parents come out. The dad comes out to greet the little freak right at the bus door. Helps him down that last few steps. Then, the dad has a conversation with the damn bus driver. For about 2 minutes. And, I am supposed to sit there and wait for this bullshit. These are the types of things that bother me on my way home from work.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
High On Jay Low
Whatever happened to Jennifer Lopez? I’ve noticed that she fell off pretty quickly. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. But, I think it was when she changed her name to J-Lo. That was about the time her downfall began, for good reason. Or, when she stopped fucking Puff Daddy. Somewhere within that time frame shit started to go bad. I guess all I’m trying to say is that I miss her ass. And, that Jenny from the block song. And her being engaged to a different man every other month.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
The Swine Flu That Was Made Up
When everyone was scared of the swine flu, shutting down schools, closing public places, obsessively washing and protecting ones own immune system, my friends and I went out into the woods at Walden pond, didn’t shower, pissed in the woods, ate with our bare hands after digging up mud, washed in the pond, and just overall were total grubs. I’m still alive. Fuck this swine flu shit.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Charity Letter
This one will take some explaining. I wrote the following when I worked at Pizza House and kids used to come in and bring a letter to Pete (the owner and my bother-in-law) looking for donations to go overseas or go on some trip to, "broaden their horizons" or some bullshit like that. It pissed me off, so I wrote this. I molded it after one specific letter a girl brought in looking for money so should could go, "study abroad" for no good reason but her own amusement. My objective was to hand it out to the students, or better yet, the parents of the students, who brought in a letter looking for a donation from Pete. I never got around to that, but I think it's worth reading.
Dear Sir Or Madam:
My name is John Pitroff. I am a twenty three year old pizza delivery man at Pizza House in Adams, MA. I recently realized that I would like to go on a trip. I plan on visiting a number of different countries, cities, and towns. The objective of my trip is to get laid as much as possible, have fun, and learn something about other cultures (my mom told me to write in this part). This two week experience meeting other people, hopefully hot drunk easy chicks, will get me more in touch with the different cultures of the world and give me an education on how others live, and, if I‘m lucky, how they are in bed. This study abroad should bring me a great deal of education on how people differ around the world.
I am currently seeking financial sponsors to help me to finance my endeavor. I hope I can count on you for support. I have set up an organization, “The John Pitroff Trip Fund.” If you haven’t heard of it, let me share some history with you. This organization was founded in 2008 by John Pitroff when he realized he wanted to go on a vacation, but he didn’t have enough money to do so.
The tuition is a measly $7,000. This includes all transportation, accommodations, meals, bar tabs, and drug money. Through money donated by my family, my friends, and from not buying hookers for a few weeks, I have raised $200 on my own. Is it possible for you to make a donation that will help me make this trip a possibility? Any donation will be appreciated. Of course, if you don’t give any, or if you give me a small amount, I will consider you cheap.
All I ask is for a small donation of money that you work for everyday. Money that you make by working hard and putting in hours. You businesses can spare a couple of hundred dollars. I would appreciate if you just hand over your hard earned cash simply because I am asking you to give it to me. Please, ignore the bills that you have to pay yourself. Ignore the fact that you probably have things in your own life that you have to spend the money on that are important to you. Ignore the fact that I could probably raise this money if I worked a few more hours a week or if I got another part time job. I just need the money for this trip, so just give, give, give.
This trip should help me learn a lot. I might learn that some self-righteous parents should never send their fifteen year old daughter out to local businesses to hand out a charity letter in hopes of gaining money for a trip overseas. I will probably learn that if parents wish to send their child somewhere to learn more about the world, possibly they could save up the money on their own, and, I don’t know, maybe, have their daughter get a job instead of being an upper class panhandler for the rest of her life. However, I probably won’t learn any of this, so, just fork over the cash.
Please free to contact me at (413) 207-2745 if you need more information. Your charitable donation will allow me to spend this great opportunity traveling the world in search of a good time.
Thank you in advance for your support.
Sincerely Yours,
John Pitroff
President “The John Pitroff Trip Fund.”
Dear Sir Or Madam:
My name is John Pitroff. I am a twenty three year old pizza delivery man at Pizza House in Adams, MA. I recently realized that I would like to go on a trip. I plan on visiting a number of different countries, cities, and towns. The objective of my trip is to get laid as much as possible, have fun, and learn something about other cultures (my mom told me to write in this part). This two week experience meeting other people, hopefully hot drunk easy chicks, will get me more in touch with the different cultures of the world and give me an education on how others live, and, if I‘m lucky, how they are in bed. This study abroad should bring me a great deal of education on how people differ around the world.
I am currently seeking financial sponsors to help me to finance my endeavor. I hope I can count on you for support. I have set up an organization, “The John Pitroff Trip Fund.” If you haven’t heard of it, let me share some history with you. This organization was founded in 2008 by John Pitroff when he realized he wanted to go on a vacation, but he didn’t have enough money to do so.
The tuition is a measly $7,000. This includes all transportation, accommodations, meals, bar tabs, and drug money. Through money donated by my family, my friends, and from not buying hookers for a few weeks, I have raised $200 on my own. Is it possible for you to make a donation that will help me make this trip a possibility? Any donation will be appreciated. Of course, if you don’t give any, or if you give me a small amount, I will consider you cheap.
All I ask is for a small donation of money that you work for everyday. Money that you make by working hard and putting in hours. You businesses can spare a couple of hundred dollars. I would appreciate if you just hand over your hard earned cash simply because I am asking you to give it to me. Please, ignore the bills that you have to pay yourself. Ignore the fact that you probably have things in your own life that you have to spend the money on that are important to you. Ignore the fact that I could probably raise this money if I worked a few more hours a week or if I got another part time job. I just need the money for this trip, so just give, give, give.
This trip should help me learn a lot. I might learn that some self-righteous parents should never send their fifteen year old daughter out to local businesses to hand out a charity letter in hopes of gaining money for a trip overseas. I will probably learn that if parents wish to send their child somewhere to learn more about the world, possibly they could save up the money on their own, and, I don’t know, maybe, have their daughter get a job instead of being an upper class panhandler for the rest of her life. However, I probably won’t learn any of this, so, just fork over the cash.
Please free to contact me at (413) 207-2745 if you need more information. Your charitable donation will allow me to spend this great opportunity traveling the world in search of a good time.
Thank you in advance for your support.
Sincerely Yours,
John Pitroff
President “The John Pitroff Trip Fund.”
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Uncle Leo
Uncle Leo wasn’t quite a racist; he hated people of all colors with the same amount of vigor. Whether you were black, white, Mexican, or Asian, he tended to have it in for you. However, he did seem to have a personal vendetta against the Canadians. His dream was to travel to Canada, get inside the border, and eventually overthrow their “government” by hypnosis. He planned to hypnotize the Prime Minister with a McDonalds happy meal and then use the McDonalds as the new United States embassy. Ronald McDonald wanted nothing to do with this plan. He said, “Look, I am all for opening up new places. I have opened up thousands of my own homes for others, but a government center in Canada? I’d rather buy a Whopper.”
Uncle Leo never went through with the plan. Instead, he sat inside his apartment continuously cutting his toenails. He did this everyday at 2 o’clock, sharp. He got so talented that he eventually was able to make the clippings fly into a little pile with no need of gathering them all up with his hands. He considered it his one true talent, but never shared his gift with others. After he died of a boomerang shot to the head (he forgot it wasn’t a Frisbee and didn’t realize it was coming back), over 700 homemade DVDs were found at his apartment, all containing footage of him cutting his toenails into perfectly round piles.
Leo’s legacy probably won’t be his toenail talent, but his idea that involved carving other foods into jack-o’-lanters. In his diaries, he wrote, “Why just carve pumpkins? You could make a really clever apple jack-o’-lantern. Who wouldn’t want to see a kiwi turned into a scary face with a candle inside it? I sure as hell would.”
It is unknown why Leo was not admitted to the mental ward before his death. The most likely answer is that no one gave a shit about him or his, as he called them, “really nifty” ideas. He was found dead in his apartment on April 14th of this year when a gang planning to rob his house broke in and found his body. They called the cops who showed up, arrested the gang, then called the local ambulatory service for assistance.
Uncle Leo never went through with the plan. Instead, he sat inside his apartment continuously cutting his toenails. He did this everyday at 2 o’clock, sharp. He got so talented that he eventually was able to make the clippings fly into a little pile with no need of gathering them all up with his hands. He considered it his one true talent, but never shared his gift with others. After he died of a boomerang shot to the head (he forgot it wasn’t a Frisbee and didn’t realize it was coming back), over 700 homemade DVDs were found at his apartment, all containing footage of him cutting his toenails into perfectly round piles.
Leo’s legacy probably won’t be his toenail talent, but his idea that involved carving other foods into jack-o’-lanters. In his diaries, he wrote, “Why just carve pumpkins? You could make a really clever apple jack-o’-lantern. Who wouldn’t want to see a kiwi turned into a scary face with a candle inside it? I sure as hell would.”
It is unknown why Leo was not admitted to the mental ward before his death. The most likely answer is that no one gave a shit about him or his, as he called them, “really nifty” ideas. He was found dead in his apartment on April 14th of this year when a gang planning to rob his house broke in and found his body. They called the cops who showed up, arrested the gang, then called the local ambulatory service for assistance.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
My Thought(s) On Zoos (here's a clue: they are fucked up)
Zoos are really fucked up. Let’s take this animal out of its natural habitat and keep it in a cage for the rest of its life so simpleminded humans can come and look at it. Of course, people act like cowards and do this so that they can gawk at the animal without the threat of actually getting killed by it. Humans are a fucked up species. Easily the worst. No other animal even comes remotely close. My idea is to put these people that run zoos into their own cages so that people that think like me about this subject can walk by them marveling at them. Naturally, I collect money at the door for admission. Shit, I just re-invented jail. Back to the point of the story: zoos and the people involved are fucked. Thanks for reading, but I have to go, my dog is barking to get out of her crate.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
One
Remember that “one” shit? When people would say, “one” to mean goodbye on the phone. What the fuck was that all about? I’m not really sure, but I’ll tell you this, I’m glad it went away. I’ve got to go. One.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
People I Can Do Without
Any serial killer with a deep rooted sense of humor.
Anyone who tries to use a one hundred dollar bill at a tag sale.
Any intellectual looking professor riding a unicycle down a major interstate highway.
Anyone who says, “I’m straight up from the ghetto, bitch!” in a southern accent.
Anyone who writes their will out in crayon.
Any pizza delivery driver with a long beard and a cat roaming freely in his car.
Any priest who retires to sell real estate.
Anyone who refers to fucking as copulating.
Any man with a mustache who’s also wearing an M&Ms hat.
Any guy with crinkle cut French fries hanging from his beard.
Anyone who uses their gum to blow bubbles during sex.
Anyone who says, “That’s my favorite scripture!” in an excited tone.
Anyone who refers to “fuck” as, “the F word.”
Any guy who wears an eye patch as a fashion statement.
Anyone who has their mom drop them off or pick them up at the bar.
Anyone who stores their bicycle in the middle of the living room.
Anyone who puts their ultrasound as their main Facebook picture.
Any athlete who uses steroids but still can’t seem to win a goddamn game.
Anyone who collects midgets for the sheer joy of it.
Any old guy who gleefully recalls him time in the Nazi party.
Anyone who calls me “boss.”
Any man who fashions himself a “masturbation connoisseur.”
Anyone who takes a dump in a bar bathroom.
Anyone always awaiting the return of Jesus.
Anyone taking a piss in a public restroom while wearing headphones.
Any country singer who writes a song with “grilled cheese” as a lyric.
Any man alone in the middle of a field playing with a stick.
Any bisexual necrophiliac with standards.
Any old guy with a holler back ring tone.
Anyone who thinks the solution to world hunger is to breast feed the starving.
Any girl who gets drunk and does cart wheels in the middle of my living room.
Any woman over the age of 20 whose favorite color is hot pink.
Anyone who wants to install a water slide at a funeral home.
Any man who wears basketball shorts to a bar.
Anyone who tries to use a one hundred dollar bill at a tag sale.
Any intellectual looking professor riding a unicycle down a major interstate highway.
Anyone who says, “I’m straight up from the ghetto, bitch!” in a southern accent.
Anyone who writes their will out in crayon.
Any pizza delivery driver with a long beard and a cat roaming freely in his car.
Any priest who retires to sell real estate.
Anyone who refers to fucking as copulating.
Any man with a mustache who’s also wearing an M&Ms hat.
Any guy with crinkle cut French fries hanging from his beard.
Anyone who uses their gum to blow bubbles during sex.
Anyone who says, “That’s my favorite scripture!” in an excited tone.
Anyone who refers to “fuck” as, “the F word.”
Any guy who wears an eye patch as a fashion statement.
Anyone who has their mom drop them off or pick them up at the bar.
Anyone who stores their bicycle in the middle of the living room.
Anyone who puts their ultrasound as their main Facebook picture.
Any athlete who uses steroids but still can’t seem to win a goddamn game.
Anyone who collects midgets for the sheer joy of it.
Any old guy who gleefully recalls him time in the Nazi party.
Anyone who calls me “boss.”
Any man who fashions himself a “masturbation connoisseur.”
Anyone who takes a dump in a bar bathroom.
Anyone always awaiting the return of Jesus.
Anyone taking a piss in a public restroom while wearing headphones.
Any country singer who writes a song with “grilled cheese” as a lyric.
Any man alone in the middle of a field playing with a stick.
Any bisexual necrophiliac with standards.
Any old guy with a holler back ring tone.
Anyone who thinks the solution to world hunger is to breast feed the starving.
Any girl who gets drunk and does cart wheels in the middle of my living room.
Any woman over the age of 20 whose favorite color is hot pink.
Anyone who wants to install a water slide at a funeral home.
Any man who wears basketball shorts to a bar.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Faithless Christ
Heaven’s light so bright it's blinding. Wandering in hopes of stumbling into paradise. Unfulfilled promises drive the part time ritual for a faithless Christ. Forever tripping into a perfect stance onto steeples. Feeling-devoid emotions only feeding the aimless cycle. The ultimate salvation not worth saving.
If You Ever See My Act, You'll Understand
Fellow comedian Joe Possemato, the one I suggested you all should take notice of, sent me this image he made. I find it necessary to share with the world. If you see my stand up routine, you might experience the joke this picture represents.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Information For You
The end of the world started somewhere about the time that we started putting coats on dogs.
Monday, April 13, 2009
God Is Everything
If god created everything, then god is in everything. If god created everything, then god is everything. Both good and bad. God is all things. He created it all, he is part of it all. That is the only way it can be. Just as though your kid is part you. This is why Jesus was saying he was the son of god. He didn’t mean literally. Me meant he was a child of god. God was inside him. He was god, god was him. That is what he meant by this. He didn’t mean literally that someone came down and impregnated a woman with God’s sperm. How dumb are people? They take such a great, high thought/concept as Jesus had (about him being the son of god) and they take it literally and have to make up a stupid story to support it. Jesus needed no story. He knew he was the son of god, as we all are, if we realize it. He said he was god because he was god. So was everyone else. They just didn’t know it. That is what he meant by it. None of this other shit about being born of a virgin, talking to god, etc. That is all just the dumb people following Jesus attempting to realize and make what he said make sense in their own heads because they were too dumb to realize he didn’t mean this shit literally.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
I Don't Know
(A and B are sitting on a bench eating M&Ms)
A: What’s that thing in the sky?
B: It looks like an unidentified flying object.
A: That makes no sense. It’s flying, it’s an object, but you just identified it. How can it be unidentified if you just identified it?
B: Yeah, but it’s still a unidentified flying object.
A: If you call it a unidentified flying object, it is no longer an unidentified flying object.
B: But I’m not sure what it is, I can’t identify it.
A: OK, but don’t call it an unidentified flying object then. By calling it a an unidentified flying object, it no longer is. It says it right in the name: “unidentified.” Once you say that it is something, it has an identity and can no longer be known as unidentified.
B: What do I call it then?
A: It is just a flying object, an FO. Maybe it is an identified unidentified flying object. An IUFO.
B: Well, that would make sense. We have identified it, but we don’t know what its identity is, so it is an identified unidentified flying object.
A: But that statement is contradictory. How can it be both identified, yet unidentified at the same time? That is paradoxical.
B: FUCK YOU! You can’t just have a normal conversation. You have to turn everything into this stupid philosophical linguistics bullshit.
A: However, maybe we could call it an unidentified identified flying object.
B: Now I’m getting pissed.
A: Wait, no, calling it an unidentified identified flying object is just as paradoxical as calling it an identified unidentified flying object.
B: Shut the fuck up!
A: I’m just trying to identify that unidentified thing that is flying.
B: All I know is this: you see that thing in the sky there? I have no clue what the fuck it is.
A: Me either. I just know it’s not a UFO.
B: Stop eating all my M&Ms you asshole.
A: I don’t even know why I hang out with your feeble minded, thoughtless, boring ass.
(A and B go back to eating M&Ms)
A: What’s that thing in the sky?
B: It looks like an unidentified flying object.
A: That makes no sense. It’s flying, it’s an object, but you just identified it. How can it be unidentified if you just identified it?
B: Yeah, but it’s still a unidentified flying object.
A: If you call it a unidentified flying object, it is no longer an unidentified flying object.
B: But I’m not sure what it is, I can’t identify it.
A: OK, but don’t call it an unidentified flying object then. By calling it a an unidentified flying object, it no longer is. It says it right in the name: “unidentified.” Once you say that it is something, it has an identity and can no longer be known as unidentified.
B: What do I call it then?
A: It is just a flying object, an FO. Maybe it is an identified unidentified flying object. An IUFO.
B: Well, that would make sense. We have identified it, but we don’t know what its identity is, so it is an identified unidentified flying object.
A: But that statement is contradictory. How can it be both identified, yet unidentified at the same time? That is paradoxical.
B: FUCK YOU! You can’t just have a normal conversation. You have to turn everything into this stupid philosophical linguistics bullshit.
A: However, maybe we could call it an unidentified identified flying object.
B: Now I’m getting pissed.
A: Wait, no, calling it an unidentified identified flying object is just as paradoxical as calling it an identified unidentified flying object.
B: Shut the fuck up!
A: I’m just trying to identify that unidentified thing that is flying.
B: All I know is this: you see that thing in the sky there? I have no clue what the fuck it is.
A: Me either. I just know it’s not a UFO.
B: Stop eating all my M&Ms you asshole.
A: I don’t even know why I hang out with your feeble minded, thoughtless, boring ass.
(A and B go back to eating M&Ms)
Sunday, April 5, 2009
A Kool Thought
I wonder what flavor of Kool-Aid Jim Jones used. Because if it was grape, I bet half of those people would still be alive. Who would even try it? That grape stuff is terrible. I did some research. It wasn’t Kool-Aid, it was Flavor Aid. Couldn’t he at least get the name brand stuff? And, it was grape. These people deserved it. We don’t need more fuckers walking around who enjoy grape Flavor Aid. And, wouldn’t you be kind of pissed that Kool-Aid gets the free advertising when it was actually your product that was used? Maybe they are happy to not be identified with all that. I don’t know. I’m asking you.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
A Didactic Letter (Sorry Liz)
This is going to sound really racist, because, well, it is. But, it's also funny. So, it's worth it. Plus, both people I told this to laughed, and I feel it's necessary to point it out. Anyway, it is a letter written by myself to a community of people in order to inform them of something they don't know.
Dear Spanish People:
Your music sucks. Yes, all of it.
Sincerely, John Christopher Pitroff
Dear Spanish People:
Your music sucks. Yes, all of it.
Sincerely, John Christopher Pitroff
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Whoring Something Other Than Myself For A Change.
Doing comedy, I get to meet a lot of funny people. Joe Possemato is one of those people. I have been doing an open mic with this guy every Wednesday at The Comedy Beach Club at The Red Parrot in Hull for the past few months. He's always original, always funny, and is a wikipedia of knowledge (except that he is always correct with his information, unlike wikipedia). His obscure references make Dennis Miller look foolish by comparison. His impersonations are spot on. I have personally witnessed Dusty Rhodes, Bob Dylan, The Bee Gees, Louis Armstrong, and The Ultimate Warrior. Check out his youtube account, where he posts video blogs. Also, it would be worth your while to watch his television show, Weymouth After Dark, that he hosts with his brother, Frank, another comedian that I consider a friend. Keep an eye on Weymouth After Dark, because your truly will be appearing soon. Thanks for reading.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Nothing Has Been Pissing Me Off
Surprisingly, nothing lately has been pissing me off. I have been in a joke orientated state of mind, attempting to work on my stand up routine. So, I have been letting a lot of things that would usually piss me off go unnoticed. Well, I will not worry, because there is plenty in the world to piss me off, no doubt. That shit is bound to come to me. Anyway, here is something I wrote:
Hitler could do anything he wanted. Any-fucking-thing. He could do whatever he wanted. Same goes for a lot of the other tyrants. My question is, why don’t good people get to do whatever they want? That is sad. The good natured people aren’t allowed to do what they want and spread their good, but the evil bad people are allowed to do whatever they want and influence others to do bad as well. Usually, the good natured don’t get to do what they want because they don’t want to do whatever they want, they just want to help people. They aren’t selfish. Fear lets you be able to do whatever you want.
Hitler could do anything he wanted. Any-fucking-thing. He could do whatever he wanted. Same goes for a lot of the other tyrants. My question is, why don’t good people get to do whatever they want? That is sad. The good natured people aren’t allowed to do what they want and spread their good, but the evil bad people are allowed to do whatever they want and influence others to do bad as well. Usually, the good natured don’t get to do what they want because they don’t want to do whatever they want, they just want to help people. They aren’t selfish. Fear lets you be able to do whatever you want.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
They're In Control
They’re in control. Credit cards know our purchases. Phones know our conversations. Cameras are everywhere. GPS can find you wherever you are. The elite are watching you. They know where you are going, who you are going with, what you are doing, and when you are coming back. They know everything about you. What you look at on your computer. They want computers to run the world because then they will be the ones who can hack into them and change how much money you have on your credit card. They are in control now. Soon to be world domination by the elite who control your lives via plastic and barcodes. It isn’t far away that they own you when you are born. You are given a card that says how much money you have, when you are born, and it is forever changed, like a debit card. But, someone has access to the account, other than yourself. If there isn’t someone else, the machines are running the world, and that doesn’t work. Therefore, they, the elite, can hack in and take your money. Which is really theirs if they want it. There’s no freedom. If someone wanted to be listening to this right now, they could be. Go somewhere, if they want, they know your every move. Cameras are watching you, they are tapping your phones if they want, they know everything you are buying, where you are buying it, and how much you paid for it. Keep sleeping because soon enough it will be 1984.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Tree house green sunlight Joseph Smith apocalypse Jordan clit.
Tree house green sunlight Joseph Smith apocalypse Jordan clit.
That sentence makes sense to me. I somehow matched those words up in that order to have it make sense within my brain. Well, except the Jordan part, that really doesn’t make sense. I will no longer do sentences that you can’t understand…Now that I think about it…it doesn’t really make that much sense. (He’s still thinking about that?) Yes, I am. But, honestly, it really does make sense to me. However, I can understand why it doesn’t equate to an actual thought pattern in your mind. It’s not treehouse, it’s tree (period) house (period). Not one word, but two distinct, separate ideas. That’s where your thought is off and why you can’t understand it. If that sentence ever makes sense to you, please call me. We belong together. I cannot give away how it makes sense to me, that would take all the fun out of it. You would have to know me to understand it anyway. The only person who will ever understand that sentence is me because I lived it and I am the only one who can match those words to different thoughts in my brain and have it come out making sense. This whole paragraph probably doesn’t even make sense to you, but fuck it. I understand what’s going on.
That sentence makes sense to me. I somehow matched those words up in that order to have it make sense within my brain. Well, except the Jordan part, that really doesn’t make sense. I will no longer do sentences that you can’t understand…Now that I think about it…it doesn’t really make that much sense. (He’s still thinking about that?) Yes, I am. But, honestly, it really does make sense to me. However, I can understand why it doesn’t equate to an actual thought pattern in your mind. It’s not treehouse, it’s tree (period) house (period). Not one word, but two distinct, separate ideas. That’s where your thought is off and why you can’t understand it. If that sentence ever makes sense to you, please call me. We belong together. I cannot give away how it makes sense to me, that would take all the fun out of it. You would have to know me to understand it anyway. The only person who will ever understand that sentence is me because I lived it and I am the only one who can match those words to different thoughts in my brain and have it come out making sense. This whole paragraph probably doesn’t even make sense to you, but fuck it. I understand what’s going on.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
A Small Note Of Interest
I once saw a guy wearing a “We Run Boston” T shirt, but he was sitting on the T, riding it alone, at 12:11 AM on a Wednesday morning (St. Patrick’s Day 2009). Yeah, man, you really run this town. On public transit, by yourself, after midnight.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Faith Is Killing This Species
It is my belief that faith is killing this species. The idea that we should always hope for something instead of actually doing what is necessary to do it will be the end of humanity. In addition to faith, technology is going to kill us. I am telling you right now, with a combination of these two things, humans will not be here for very long. Mark my words. Please, write this shit down, I'm predicting it. Technology and faith will be the death of the human race. Have a good day.
Monday, March 16, 2009
This Is A Response To Rikishi And Lambert On Going Green (which was too long of a reply to post under replies)
The whole going green movement is usually a lot of bullshit. I think there are some genuinely good natured people out there who do this to actually help, but you really have to keep your eye on it because as you noted, there are always big inconsistencies involved. Personal greed usually plays a big part in most of these "causes." It is easy and takes little effort to have a bag that says go green, but how much effort is actually being put in? Most likely, none. Plus, how green are you going? You are printing it on a chopped down tree. That's why joining some of these movements is kind of an easy thing to do to make yourself look like you care by not actually doing anything.
A big example over here in the states is the whole, "Support The Troops" campaign. I see a lot of bumper stickers, and I really wonder, in what way do they want me to support? I have no clue. Sending money? That could help I guess. Cheering them on? Not going to do anything. Having their back because they are in a war that I don't agree with? That is expecting me to change my very ideals because you put an adhesive on the bumper of your car. Ultimately, do you want me to support them by putting a sticker on my car? A good way to look like you care without actually supporting in any way. If you really supported the troops, your ass would be beside them in a foxhole protecting them from gunshot. It is just so easy to join these "causes" without ever doing anything.
Thanks for reading.
A big example over here in the states is the whole, "Support The Troops" campaign. I see a lot of bumper stickers, and I really wonder, in what way do they want me to support? I have no clue. Sending money? That could help I guess. Cheering them on? Not going to do anything. Having their back because they are in a war that I don't agree with? That is expecting me to change my very ideals because you put an adhesive on the bumper of your car. Ultimately, do you want me to support them by putting a sticker on my car? A good way to look like you care without actually supporting in any way. If you really supported the troops, your ass would be beside them in a foxhole protecting them from gunshot. It is just so easy to join these "causes" without ever doing anything.
Thanks for reading.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Compete With This, Mother Fucker!
If If is If is If If if If is if only if If is If is If If If is not if if If is not If If is If only if If is If If if is is if is not if if is is if only when is is is then if is if if is is is.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Receipts Backwards Is St. Piecer. (however, this is irrelevant to this post)
Why are receipts so fucking big? I go to the supermarket, buy two things, and I get a foot and a half long piece of paper telling me about my purchase. The receipts now whore the store manager, the cashier’s name, websites for the store, card numbers, location of the store, telephone numbers, and tons of other useless crap that I don’t need. It is a waste of paper and ink and space in my wallet. If I get two items, it should list those items and when I bought them. Enough said. That is why I shop at goodwill. A very small, condensed receipt, tells me what I bought and when. No bullshit. These receipts are getting out of hand. Way too much useless shit on them. I think they do this to confuse you. So, if they rip you off, you have no clue where to look. There is too much on the receipt to see where the stuff you bought is and it’s corresponding price. It’s just a bunch of words trying to distract you from the money you just spent so that you will come back and do it again. That is why.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
A True Tale of Friendship
Three friends: A, B, and C. C gets really drunk. C tries to grab A’s dick just for a laugh. A doesn’t know what to think. A kind of likes it because he thinks it is funny, yet at the same time he is such good friends with C, he is now worried that C might actually be gay-ly sexually attracted to him. B gets jealous because he feels he is not as attractive as A. B feels as though C should have tried to grab his dick. B feels as though his dick is not good enough or he is not as cool as A. C realizes that he has some gay tendencies. C realizes that he was so drunk, he doesn’t even remember trying to grab A’s dick, so therefore, deep down in his own head, C, must in some sort of way, want to grab A’s dick. In order to solve all of this tension, A, B, and C get together and have gay sex. B sucks C’s dick, but won’t suck A’s. Now A feels left out. D comes in and sucks them all off. It all ends with A, B, C, and D smiling (D has some stuff on his lip).
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Answer Me This
Why isn’t there more to life than running a pattern and catching a pass? Or, watching some guy do it on TV. Why is that what the general public finds fascinating?
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Absolute Mind Freedom Behind Bars
Overworked love soon flips to hated. A circle thinning into non existence. Reaching around to it’s wrath filled opposite. Emotions felt with totality struggle to regain their fullness; forever holding back thoughts of jealous revulsion.
Mind control continually softening your heart to another. A chain linking to infinity, cycling back again to its perfect beginning. Linear love equals opposite ends. Green with envy attempting to tie together with love and compassion. The trick to complete the task? None. Total annihilation of the publicly perceived notion brings about a necessary never-ending flow. Who is able? All. Who completes? Few. You know them.
Mind control continually softening your heart to another. A chain linking to infinity, cycling back again to its perfect beginning. Linear love equals opposite ends. Green with envy attempting to tie together with love and compassion. The trick to complete the task? None. Total annihilation of the publicly perceived notion brings about a necessary never-ending flow. Who is able? All. Who completes? Few. You know them.
Friday, March 6, 2009
The Rape Of The World (yes I stole this title from Tracy Chapman)
While watching, “Life After People” a documentary I bought that aired on The History Channel (which I highly recommend checking out), I realized that there’s a balance in nature. Gay people, infertile people, forest fires, floods, STDs, cancer, diseases etc. There’s a reason for all this. To cut down on the human population. Nature knows how to keep a balance. And, because it knows there are too many humans, it is doing things to put an end to that. There should be a balance where you are able to live with nature. If you don’t find that balance, you tip the scales too far one way and you are bound to die off. This is what humans are going through right now. There are far too many people alive right now and they can’t live with nature. They try to dominate it. If you try to dominate nature by creating damns, stopping forest fires, making huge cities by cutting down all the trees, creating paved roads everywhere, etc, nature will only come back to dominate you in the end. Humans will die off. Then, nature will show its dominance once again. If we learned to live off the land, using fire at its most base level to keep us warm, to cook our food and to light our living areas, we wouldn’t be in trouble. But, now we have grown accustomed to needing electricity all the time. What happens if that is gone? We can’t survive. That is because instead of living with nature (fire), we try to dominate and control it in our own way (electricity) and get too ahead of ourselves technologically. See, we think we have control of it. But we don’t. As soon as we are gone, nature takes back over and rips down our buildings, breaks apart our roads turning them to grass, turns our cities into mountains, and shows it has always dominated. It all turns back into green and brown forests with trees, streams and lakes. Nature will let humans think they have control because it is so strong and so smart and so balanced that it knows it can never be taken over. It has no worries. If you try to dominate nature like humans try to do, instead of trying to live within it, it will in turn dominate you. If humans could learn to live off the land instead of raping the land, maybe humanity would survive a bit longer. Always remember, we are part of nature, not separate from it.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Stupidity Of Humans: The Sports Edition!
They used to use pennies in flags in the NFL. Until someone got hit in the eye.
The goal post used to be at the front of the end zone in the NFL. Until people kept running into it.
The basketball hoops didn’t have the bottoms taken out originally. Until people got sick of climbing a ladder and retrieving the ball.
James Naismith, the inventor of basketball, wasn’t a genius. He was a retard. He invented a game where you throw a ball into a basket, but then have to stop everything to retrieve the ball from inside the basket. It took years to figure out to just take the bottom out of the basket? This guy was not a genius, he was a retard. Because, he had a good idea, but didn’t finish it. It’s like if a guy invented tennis but forget to think of rackets.
The goal post used to be at the front of the end zone in the NFL. Until people kept running into it.
The basketball hoops didn’t have the bottoms taken out originally. Until people got sick of climbing a ladder and retrieving the ball.
James Naismith, the inventor of basketball, wasn’t a genius. He was a retard. He invented a game where you throw a ball into a basket, but then have to stop everything to retrieve the ball from inside the basket. It took years to figure out to just take the bottom out of the basket? This guy was not a genius, he was a retard. Because, he had a good idea, but didn’t finish it. It’s like if a guy invented tennis but forget to think of rackets.
Getting Some Response
I'm glad to say that I have been getting more comments than usual. Also, my page hit has gone up a bit more than usual lately (this, however, is possibly because I sign in about 6 times a day to check it). I might finally be catching on, which is nice. Through my networking amongst comedians, finding new "internet friends" via facebook, whoring myself and this blog wherever possible, and having my loyal readers (thanks Mom), I have finally established somewhat of an audience (as far as I can tell). Because of this, be looking for more frequent updates and posts. I like getting a response, so I will post as much as possible.
I am really busy now that I am no longer a bum and actually have a job. Also, with wrestling practice two nights a week, wrestling shows every few weekends, and stand up open mics at least three times a week, I am pretty much busy every night of the week. However, writing is my #1 priority because I love it. So, I will attempt to post more frequently than I have in the past. However, I can't guarantee anything too well written unless it is a weekend and I have time to sit down and take time to actually write an entire article.
I always keep notes on things so I will be posting thoughts that run through my head on a daily basis (trust me, there is some interesting shit in there). Just wanted to update any readers to let them know to be checking out the blog more often because I will be posting more often. Thanks for reading.
I am really busy now that I am no longer a bum and actually have a job. Also, with wrestling practice two nights a week, wrestling shows every few weekends, and stand up open mics at least three times a week, I am pretty much busy every night of the week. However, writing is my #1 priority because I love it. So, I will attempt to post more frequently than I have in the past. However, I can't guarantee anything too well written unless it is a weekend and I have time to sit down and take time to actually write an entire article.
I always keep notes on things so I will be posting thoughts that run through my head on a daily basis (trust me, there is some interesting shit in there). Just wanted to update any readers to let them know to be checking out the blog more often because I will be posting more often. Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Cunt Ball Hair (title be Chris DeLeigh)
I was at a bar having a beer when the topic of murder came up. The guy next to me said “the best way to murder someone is to use a gun.” The bartender stopped him and said, “You can’t use a gun, it’s too messy.” A third man interjected and said, “Not only that, but you want to torture the guy first. You don’t want him to die quick. You want him to die a painful, terrible, agonizing death.”
The first guy replied, “The more I think about it, the more you are right. I guess you would have to first really torture him to get that really good feeling inside your own head.” The bartender then added, “maybe you could rip off his fingernails and pee on them.” Then, I said, “I have to go.” Then, all three of them said, “You aren’t going anywhere.” Then, I said, “don’t touch me there.“
Now, I am writing this from their basement. I’m using the blood and urine from the tips of my fingers where my nails used to be. I guess all I’m trying to say is that I wouldn’t go to that bar again.
The first guy replied, “The more I think about it, the more you are right. I guess you would have to first really torture him to get that really good feeling inside your own head.” The bartender then added, “maybe you could rip off his fingernails and pee on them.” Then, I said, “I have to go.” Then, all three of them said, “You aren’t going anywhere.” Then, I said, “don’t touch me there.“
Now, I am writing this from their basement. I’m using the blood and urine from the tips of my fingers where my nails used to be. I guess all I’m trying to say is that I wouldn’t go to that bar again.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Gay Wrestling
Last night at the Academy Awards, Sean Penn won for Best Actor In A Leading Role for his portrayal of Harvey Milk, the firt openly gay man to be elected to office in California. Mickey Rourke, who was up for the same award as, Randy "The Ram" Robinson (an aging pro wrestler) in The Wrestler, lost.
It is now out in the open and totally true, supported by evidence of the Oscars: The main stream opinion of wrestling is so bad that they like fags better (I like to use their hateful slang). I am all for gay rights and I love pro wrestling, but I never thought I'd see the day when the realization hit that pro wrestling is less accepted by the mainstream, general public than men having sex with one another. This is a weird world we live in, folks. Men having sex with each other; totally cool. Men rolling around with one another fake fighting; totally gay.
With the large amounts of gay-bashers out there, and their total hate and devotion to the cause of attempting to control someone else's sex life, I never thought pro wrestling could be hated on even more. The Oscars are just a great example of the public opinion of wrestling.
Fuck all these people, wrestling is the shit.
Perhaps I am totally off and I shouldn't be mad that wrestling is still not respected by most people, but I should be happy that gay rights are finally getting their do. I should probably be looking at this in a totally different way and be overjoyed at the fact that this country has finally come around on the idea of homosexual people and are finally starting to accept them (about fucking time). That is a real positive.
While I'm on the subject of The Wrestler and telling people to fuck off, you know what, fuck Mickey Rourke too. Fuck Mickey Rourke for not wrestling at WrestleMania because it would ruin his public opinion and thus might lose him the Oscar. That is as if Sean Penn was invited to speak at a GLAAD event and turned it down because it would ruin his image and lose him movie roles in the future. Fuck Rourke for not standing up for wrestling when wrestling is the basis for the movie that brought his career out of wherever the hell it was.
Maybe Sean Penn was way better than Mickey Rourke and deserved the Oscar. I don't know. I only saw The Wrestler. I thought Rourke did a great job as Randy The Ram. But, I am biased because I'm a wrestling fan.
As Mick Foley said in an interview, "Professional wrestling will never be respected, no matter how many teeth I lose, no matter how many ears I lose, no matter how many brain cells have to die."
I don't know, I just had to get some of that off my chest, it was bothering me.
It is now out in the open and totally true, supported by evidence of the Oscars: The main stream opinion of wrestling is so bad that they like fags better (I like to use their hateful slang). I am all for gay rights and I love pro wrestling, but I never thought I'd see the day when the realization hit that pro wrestling is less accepted by the mainstream, general public than men having sex with one another. This is a weird world we live in, folks. Men having sex with each other; totally cool. Men rolling around with one another fake fighting; totally gay.
With the large amounts of gay-bashers out there, and their total hate and devotion to the cause of attempting to control someone else's sex life, I never thought pro wrestling could be hated on even more. The Oscars are just a great example of the public opinion of wrestling.
Fuck all these people, wrestling is the shit.
Perhaps I am totally off and I shouldn't be mad that wrestling is still not respected by most people, but I should be happy that gay rights are finally getting their do. I should probably be looking at this in a totally different way and be overjoyed at the fact that this country has finally come around on the idea of homosexual people and are finally starting to accept them (about fucking time). That is a real positive.
While I'm on the subject of The Wrestler and telling people to fuck off, you know what, fuck Mickey Rourke too. Fuck Mickey Rourke for not wrestling at WrestleMania because it would ruin his public opinion and thus might lose him the Oscar. That is as if Sean Penn was invited to speak at a GLAAD event and turned it down because it would ruin his image and lose him movie roles in the future. Fuck Rourke for not standing up for wrestling when wrestling is the basis for the movie that brought his career out of wherever the hell it was.
Maybe Sean Penn was way better than Mickey Rourke and deserved the Oscar. I don't know. I only saw The Wrestler. I thought Rourke did a great job as Randy The Ram. But, I am biased because I'm a wrestling fan.
As Mick Foley said in an interview, "Professional wrestling will never be respected, no matter how many teeth I lose, no matter how many ears I lose, no matter how many brain cells have to die."
I don't know, I just had to get some of that off my chest, it was bothering me.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
In the future, I will not start reading about time on the IEP at 2 in the morning...
...because I was up until about 4:30 in the morning reading and writing about it.
**This isn't meant to be well written or have any sort of sentence structure or proper language. This is simply notes (unedited) that I wrote to myself while reading about time early one morning at The Internet Encyclopedia Of Philosophy. Try to keep up with me, I hadn't slept in a while.**
The confusion is because there are two different times. Your own time, and the basic time for everyone (clocks, the reason a pendulum sways back at a certain rate). Don’t confuse them. But, at the same time, time only exists through you. It wouldn’t be here if you didn’t make it be. So, once you don’t exist, time doesn’t exist. In this way, time exists, yet at the same time, it doesn’t exist. Just like your life. It is here for a bit, then gone. It goes off into time out. (joke) Or, it goes to time heaven or time hell (joke). It is paradoxical, but it is both. Like almost anything else, time is another thing that is dual in nature. It is, yet it is not, at the same time.
What is time? This right here. Me writing this. Me being here and doing this and taking up time and using my brain. Time is in your mind and in your brain. You could, in theory, stretch your psychological time out enough to be able to live a long time. I guess, in theory, you could live forever in your own mind. In reality, you do live forever in your own mind.
When you sleep, that time isn’t recognized by you. Eight hours go by, but you don’t know what happened. You could, theoretically, do the opposite of sleeping with your mind. Somehow stretch it the other way so not much normal time actually passes by, but in your own time, you were able to do a lot. That is why I feel like I can almost live forever. I can stretch my own time out and be able to keep it at a certain pace in my own mind, regardless of what the clock on the wall says. I might live to be 80 years old, but how many mind years did I live? In these past three years writing and thinking, I’ve probably put in more like 20 solid mind years. I’ve stretched those 3 normal time/clock time years into 20 in my own head and that is why I am smart and able to attain a lot of knowledge.
But, as I was saying, when you sleep, you use up 8 clock hours, but you don’t really know how many mind hours you used. You just go to sleep, then you wake up. What happened? How much time went on in your mind clock? You just went to bed one second and woke up the next. You have no recollection of how long it was. It could have been 5 minutes, it could have been an hour, it could have been 8 hours. Your mind doesn’t know what the clock on the wall says. The clock time is insignificant to your mind clock. You just wasted 8 hours of life (wall clock time, which, is the one that decides your death, that is why you have to keep track of clock time), but in your own mind, it was only a few seconds. You have to be able to, within that wall clock time frame that you are alive (nowadays most live to be 60 or 70 or so), you have to be able to live many more years within your own mind clock and get more years in.
The wall clock decides your death, but your mind clock can be infinitely within that wall clock. We all die, it is a matter of clock time. But, how many years you live in your mind time has no association and is insignificant to how many years have gone by on the calendar. Just like when you sleep and it was 8 hours to the clock but one second to you.
Time is like a circle. Not in the sense that once you die you are reborn and come back around. No, not like that. Not like a bent line that meets up with itself. Because, that is all that a circle is. A bent line that curves around to meet it’s beginning. And, time isn’t a line either. You can go back and forth in your own mind to the past or future. That isn’t linear. Time is like a circle in that time is within the circle. It is inside the circle. It makes the circle what it is. It freely flows within the circle. Able to go to the beginning using thought (thinking back to your childhood), to the end (when you die), or anywhere in between, and wherever you happen to be at the time is wherever you are bouncing around within the circle. Where does it start and where does it end? That doesn’t matter, because you are within in. A circle doesn’t have a beginning or an end, but being inside the circle is even less of having a beginning or an end, because you are not on the curved line that makes up the circle. You just are. You are just floating within it. It doesn’t really have a beginning or end, it just is (your life).
Infinity exists within your head (mind). You can make it happen.
I took a time machine back to 10 years before they created the first time machine. I’m fucked, because now I can’t get back to the present. I’ll just have to wait around 10 years until they create the first time machine, at which time, I can take that time machine back to the present, which is now something like 20 years in it’s own past. I’m not really sure what time it will be when I get back to my present, but I’ll tell you one thing, that bag of Doritos I left open will definitely be stale.
You can never travel to your own future, because you are always stuck in your moment of the mind. You are always stuck in your present. You can’t jump out of that and jump into your own future. You make your future. You can travel to someone else’s future, though. But, you being in someone else’s future is still only their present. It’s not the future for them, it’s the present (the moment of the mind) So, you can travel to someone else’s future, but, what if that person knew you? What if I travel to my mom’s future, say to 2010, and ask her what I am doing for a job and where I am living in her present. Because, it is always her present. It is always her moment of the mind, she isn’t in the future. She only is. I am in the future, hers. So, could I possibly go to 2010 and jump into my moms future and ask her what I am doing for a living or does that mean if I find out, I have somehow jumped into my own future by learning about what I would be doing in the future?
If I had a time machine, I’d travel to a time when people no longer debated time travel.
**This isn't meant to be well written or have any sort of sentence structure or proper language. This is simply notes (unedited) that I wrote to myself while reading about time early one morning at The Internet Encyclopedia Of Philosophy. Try to keep up with me, I hadn't slept in a while.**
The confusion is because there are two different times. Your own time, and the basic time for everyone (clocks, the reason a pendulum sways back at a certain rate). Don’t confuse them. But, at the same time, time only exists through you. It wouldn’t be here if you didn’t make it be. So, once you don’t exist, time doesn’t exist. In this way, time exists, yet at the same time, it doesn’t exist. Just like your life. It is here for a bit, then gone. It goes off into time out. (joke) Or, it goes to time heaven or time hell (joke). It is paradoxical, but it is both. Like almost anything else, time is another thing that is dual in nature. It is, yet it is not, at the same time.
What is time? This right here. Me writing this. Me being here and doing this and taking up time and using my brain. Time is in your mind and in your brain. You could, in theory, stretch your psychological time out enough to be able to live a long time. I guess, in theory, you could live forever in your own mind. In reality, you do live forever in your own mind.
When you sleep, that time isn’t recognized by you. Eight hours go by, but you don’t know what happened. You could, theoretically, do the opposite of sleeping with your mind. Somehow stretch it the other way so not much normal time actually passes by, but in your own time, you were able to do a lot. That is why I feel like I can almost live forever. I can stretch my own time out and be able to keep it at a certain pace in my own mind, regardless of what the clock on the wall says. I might live to be 80 years old, but how many mind years did I live? In these past three years writing and thinking, I’ve probably put in more like 20 solid mind years. I’ve stretched those 3 normal time/clock time years into 20 in my own head and that is why I am smart and able to attain a lot of knowledge.
But, as I was saying, when you sleep, you use up 8 clock hours, but you don’t really know how many mind hours you used. You just go to sleep, then you wake up. What happened? How much time went on in your mind clock? You just went to bed one second and woke up the next. You have no recollection of how long it was. It could have been 5 minutes, it could have been an hour, it could have been 8 hours. Your mind doesn’t know what the clock on the wall says. The clock time is insignificant to your mind clock. You just wasted 8 hours of life (wall clock time, which, is the one that decides your death, that is why you have to keep track of clock time), but in your own mind, it was only a few seconds. You have to be able to, within that wall clock time frame that you are alive (nowadays most live to be 60 or 70 or so), you have to be able to live many more years within your own mind clock and get more years in.
The wall clock decides your death, but your mind clock can be infinitely within that wall clock. We all die, it is a matter of clock time. But, how many years you live in your mind time has no association and is insignificant to how many years have gone by on the calendar. Just like when you sleep and it was 8 hours to the clock but one second to you.
Time is like a circle. Not in the sense that once you die you are reborn and come back around. No, not like that. Not like a bent line that meets up with itself. Because, that is all that a circle is. A bent line that curves around to meet it’s beginning. And, time isn’t a line either. You can go back and forth in your own mind to the past or future. That isn’t linear. Time is like a circle in that time is within the circle. It is inside the circle. It makes the circle what it is. It freely flows within the circle. Able to go to the beginning using thought (thinking back to your childhood), to the end (when you die), or anywhere in between, and wherever you happen to be at the time is wherever you are bouncing around within the circle. Where does it start and where does it end? That doesn’t matter, because you are within in. A circle doesn’t have a beginning or an end, but being inside the circle is even less of having a beginning or an end, because you are not on the curved line that makes up the circle. You just are. You are just floating within it. It doesn’t really have a beginning or end, it just is (your life).
Infinity exists within your head (mind). You can make it happen.
I took a time machine back to 10 years before they created the first time machine. I’m fucked, because now I can’t get back to the present. I’ll just have to wait around 10 years until they create the first time machine, at which time, I can take that time machine back to the present, which is now something like 20 years in it’s own past. I’m not really sure what time it will be when I get back to my present, but I’ll tell you one thing, that bag of Doritos I left open will definitely be stale.
You can never travel to your own future, because you are always stuck in your moment of the mind. You are always stuck in your present. You can’t jump out of that and jump into your own future. You make your future. You can travel to someone else’s future, though. But, you being in someone else’s future is still only their present. It’s not the future for them, it’s the present (the moment of the mind) So, you can travel to someone else’s future, but, what if that person knew you? What if I travel to my mom’s future, say to 2010, and ask her what I am doing for a job and where I am living in her present. Because, it is always her present. It is always her moment of the mind, she isn’t in the future. She only is. I am in the future, hers. So, could I possibly go to 2010 and jump into my moms future and ask her what I am doing for a living or does that mean if I find out, I have somehow jumped into my own future by learning about what I would be doing in the future?
If I had a time machine, I’d travel to a time when people no longer debated time travel.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
The Non-Contradictory Paradox
Death by living life. Running the life race to its cliff end death. Winning by losing the most. Time fallen into wasteland becomes its most useful. A hollowness; the very essence of the holding area.
Wasting time in life thinking of death. Wasting nothing in death unable to think of life. The trueness of a false statement makes it true. The falseness; its only truth. Reality? The only realness: its lack thereof.
Slaughter by a peaceful action. Misconstrued goodness turned poor judgment to hate. What happened? Saving life means only death. Suicidal selfishness becoming your selfless motivation for life.
Selfless selfishness becoming greed for survival, survival becoming greed for material. Material matter forgotten as the realm of mental instability is able to stand.
Legless life stands on its self. A dissected mutation creates a new totality. Perfect in being, new now. Once old, antique.
A newborn within the time of being is at once the sage. Knowing nothing when new, knowing all when old. The unattainable is not so. Soon to be just it’s opposite.
Nourishment from life, an equal amount from death. All is a futile attempt to cease from its death, but it forever survives, forever lives. Death; forever living. The rotting carcass with a flicker of substance, unbeknownst, a protruding vivid beginning apocalypse.
Oxygen choking the esophagus. The sightless sees but cannot know. The conventional tries to know but can't even see.
Yours is mine. Juxtaposed, in turn, duality belongs to your essence. Ours together is its own.
Wasting time in life thinking of death. Wasting nothing in death unable to think of life. The trueness of a false statement makes it true. The falseness; its only truth. Reality? The only realness: its lack thereof.
Slaughter by a peaceful action. Misconstrued goodness turned poor judgment to hate. What happened? Saving life means only death. Suicidal selfishness becoming your selfless motivation for life.
Selfless selfishness becoming greed for survival, survival becoming greed for material. Material matter forgotten as the realm of mental instability is able to stand.
Legless life stands on its self. A dissected mutation creates a new totality. Perfect in being, new now. Once old, antique.
A newborn within the time of being is at once the sage. Knowing nothing when new, knowing all when old. The unattainable is not so. Soon to be just it’s opposite.
Nourishment from life, an equal amount from death. All is a futile attempt to cease from its death, but it forever survives, forever lives. Death; forever living. The rotting carcass with a flicker of substance, unbeknownst, a protruding vivid beginning apocalypse.
Oxygen choking the esophagus. The sightless sees but cannot know. The conventional tries to know but can't even see.
Yours is mine. Juxtaposed, in turn, duality belongs to your essence. Ours together is its own.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Family Guy Clip
This is a clip of Family Guy I made by picking different "idea balls" out of an "idea tank" and putting them in a "joke combine." I stole the idea from South Park to see if it really works. Thanks to my sister, Liz, for coming up with the "idea balls." Only one person will probably get this joke, but it's worth it.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Today's Horoscope
You will read this horoscope. You will misattribute it to your life. You will forget the things that are wrong, and you will remember the things that are right. You will forget that millions of people are born within a month time frame, and they aren’t all alike. You will focus your mind solely on what sounds like it applies to you. You will forget to realize that if you read the other horoscopes, you could apply them to your life just as much as the one you read for your sign. You will apply them to your life and base your life altering decisions on what some writer in an office somewhere is thinking up. You will be misled and misinformed by what someone else who doesn’t know you thinks of your life for some small feeling of reason and order in your life.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Quick Answers To A Jehovah’s Witness Tract
These are the real questions on a four page Jehovah's Witness tract that some guy gave me on the T. The tract gives a paragraph answer to each. Instead of that, I have made it much easier and given my own quick answers. I might print out my own tract and hand it out.
Does God really care about us?
No.
Will war and suffering ever end?
No.
What happens to us when we die?
There is no way to know.
Is there any hope for the dead?
No.
How can I pray and be heard by God?
You can’t.
How can I find happiness in life?
Depends.
Does God really care about us?
No.
Will war and suffering ever end?
No.
What happens to us when we die?
There is no way to know.
Is there any hope for the dead?
No.
How can I pray and be heard by God?
You can’t.
How can I find happiness in life?
Depends.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
It's Been A While
It's been a while since I have posted anything. I am still writing every day, but I have been busy doing a bunch of other stuff too. I finally started doing some open mics, so a lot of my writing has been joke writing. Until I write anything worthy of posting, these interesting quotes will have to hold you over.
The only thing wrong with Christianity is that nobody's tried it yet. - H.L.Mencken
Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there. - Will Rogers
Don't ask the barber whether you need a haircut.
An enemy is anyone who tells the truth about you. - Elbert Hubbard
A man can succeed at almost anything for which he has unlimited enthusiasm. - Charles M. Schwab
If all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.
If you tell the truth you don't have to remember anything. - Mark Twain
It is better to say nothing and have people think you are stupid than to open your mouth and remove any doubt.
Most people would sooner die than think; in fact, they do so. - Bertrand Russell
Nature has given us two ears but only one mouth. - Benjamin Disraeli
The surest way to corrupt a youth is to instruct him to hold in higher esteem those who think alike than those who think differently. - Neitzsche
The world is but a canvas to the imagination. - Henry David Thoreau
The only thing wrong with Christianity is that nobody's tried it yet. - H.L.Mencken
Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there. - Will Rogers
Don't ask the barber whether you need a haircut.
An enemy is anyone who tells the truth about you. - Elbert Hubbard
A man can succeed at almost anything for which he has unlimited enthusiasm. - Charles M. Schwab
If all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.
If you tell the truth you don't have to remember anything. - Mark Twain
It is better to say nothing and have people think you are stupid than to open your mouth and remove any doubt.
Most people would sooner die than think; in fact, they do so. - Bertrand Russell
Nature has given us two ears but only one mouth. - Benjamin Disraeli
The surest way to corrupt a youth is to instruct him to hold in higher esteem those who think alike than those who think differently. - Neitzsche
The world is but a canvas to the imagination. - Henry David Thoreau
Friday, December 26, 2008
Self-Centered Attention Seeking Nonsense
This is simply a post for me to brag and gloat about the shows I attended this year.
1. George Carlin
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Ulster Performing Arts Center
Kingston, NY
Notes: The entire “It’s Bad For Ya” set live just over two weeks after it was on HBO. Is there more to say? It’s Carlin, for Christ’s sake.
2. Meshuggah
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The Palladium
Worcester, MA
Notes: 2nd row. Fucking awesome, although they weren’t on stage long enough. Thomas Haake live, ten feet from me. Does it get better? Plus, they played “The Mouth Licking What You’ve Bled.”
3. George Carlin
Friday, May 2, 2008
Calvin Theater
Northampton, MA
Notes: Notes: 7th row. This was only a few months before he died. He did the “It’s Bad For Ya Set” again. I was the only person to give him a standing ovation when he came out and when he left. This was the best set I had seen from him live. Crowd loved him.
4. Lewis Black
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Palace Theater
Albany, NY
Notes: Great set. He had the audience laughing at the fact that they weren’t laughing. This guy is brilliant. Almost got backstage by telling the souvenir guy that Black is my uncle.
5. The Eagles
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
TD Banknorth Garden
Boston, MA
Notes: I had last row tickets at the top of the Garden. Great show, but I was too far to really feel it. Although, I did sneak down at the end and got to check out the last few songs live. I wouldn’t have been able to die happy if I hadn’t seen these guys live. “In The City” was sick.
6. The Police
Friday, August 1, 2008
Saratoga Performing Arts Center
Saratoga Springs, NY
Notes: I went to this one with Liz and Haggan. We got the first row of lawn seats. We were kind of far away, but it was a good show. Another band I felt as though I had to see before my death. Played a really cool percussion version of, “Wrapped Around You Finger,” my favorite of theirs.
7. Disturbed & Slipknot
Saturday, August 16, 2008
New England Dodge Music Center
Hartford, CT
Notes: 1st row. I went with the Haggan siblings, and Mike’s girlfriend, Megan. This was probably the show I enjoyed most out of the entire year. I had perfect seats (that I snuck down to), went with cool people, and saw two bands I had wanted to see for a long time. I really got into it and was able to start a mosh pit on the closing, “(Sic)” Both bands are perfect live. I was able to catch Joey Jordison’s drumstick at the end, although I ended up having to rightfully give it to the one guy who had two hands on it. Words really can’t describe how awesome this was.
8. TNA Wrestling
Saturday, September 7, 2008
Times Union Center
Albany, NY
Notes: 1st row. I brought my Dad to me with this one to show him a good time. Two drunk guys were there with us all night, so we had a blast. We were right near the ring all night so I created some ruckus. The man himself, Kurt Angle was there, and through my consistent chanting, I was able to get a nod of approval from him (I‘m still 10 years old inside when I go to wrestling shows). Insane fun.
9. TNA Wrestling
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Glens Falls Civic Center
Glens Falls, NY
Notes: 3rd row. This time I brought Liz. We used to go to wrestling shows, but it had been a long time. At first, Liz was hesitant, but once she saw how fun it could be, she had a good time. As for me, I of course, made my good time. Some really drunk guy made Liz and I laugh harder than I had at any of the comedy shows I had been to this year. “Get the faggott!” and “Stomp the fatass!” can only be heard at a wrestling show and be laughed off. I bought the opportunity for Liz to get a picture with AJ Styles and Samoa Joe afterward, and met Booker T and Christy Hemme in the parking lot. I asked Earl Hebner to sign something with, “I screwed Bret,” but he wouldn’t go for it. (look up Montreal Screwjob if you didn’t get that reference).
10. Insane Clown Posse
Sunday, October 12, 2008
The Palladium
Worcester, MA
Notes: I had always wanted to see the clowns live, and it was an experience. The juggalo community was real cool. Never meant so many open minded people in my life. I somehow worked my way up to 2nd row. I have never been to such a wild show. Meshuggah and Slipknot was nothing compared to the amount of moshing and crowd surfing. I was literally sore from my ribcage sticking into the backbone of the girl in front of me all night. By the end of the show, I slipped into the front row and was drenched with Faygo. Honestly, it was as if I had just taken a bath in a tub of soda. Got to pat Shaggy on the back as he walked by and caught an entire bottle of Faygo. I probably won’t go to a plain rap show ever, because of the lack of actual instruments. The clowns, however, kept it interesting enough with the soda, lighting, and theatrics, as well as the crowd being totally into it, so I would see them again.
11. WWE Survivor Series 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
TD Banknorth Garden
Boston, MA
Notes: I sat 7th row camera side, on TV all night, and didn’t even buy a ticket. I decided to go down to the Garden just to create some trouble with wrestling fans and see if I could sneak in. After sneaking to the back where the production trucks were, I soon got kicked out. I came upon a guy giving a speech with about fifteen people around him. I was curious, so I acted like I was part of the group. Next thing I know, he hands me two complimentary 12th row floor seats. Nice. Forty five minutes into the show the same guy comes up and tells me and three other people to go with him. I thought I was being kicked out. No. I was moved to the seventh row facing the camera. Pick up the DVD, I’m on there all night. As for the show, it was awesome.
12. WWE Smackdown
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Times Union Center
Albany, NY
Notes: I brought my Dad, Liz, and Rose Bud to this one. We had a great time. They filmed two whole episodes of Smackdown, so it was a long show. Josh & I both went nuts. By the end of the show, Josh screaming, “UN-DER-TA-KER” and me “WOO-ing” at the top of the arena attracted as much attention as the show itself. The highlight was me chanting “snow cone guy” because Liz wanted one and he was nowhere in sight.
13. Top Rope Promotions Wrestling
Friday, November 28, 2008
Turn Hall
Adams, MA
Notes: Pete invited me to this one. We bought front row tickets, and it was awesome. One of the best shows of the year. I told Pete he would have more fun at a wrestling show than anything he had ever been to, and he agreed by the end of the night (he actually said it was better than going to Yankees games). I went absolutely nuts and was able to get almost every wrestler to talk shit to me. One guy challenged anyone in the audience to wrestle and I got in his face. He was on the mic and said, “I want to fight a man, not some little girl.” Classic shit. Spike Dudley hit me on the head with a stick on accident. I wanted to bring James, but after going, I realized it probably wasn’t a good idea quite yet. Next year.
14. Bill Burr & Christian Finnegan Comedy
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
MCLA Venable Gym
North Adams, MA
Notes: I brought my Mom to this show. Each guy did about an hour set. Awesome stuff. I had never seen Finnegan’s act before, and he was real funny. I had seen Burr before at MCLA, but this time he had a new social commentary type material. It reminded me a lot of Bill Hicks and George Carlin. The audience wasn’t quite with him (who the fuck doesn’t laugh at searching youtube for “people getting attacked by animals?), but I was. I met him after the show and told him I liked the new attitude. Check him out, he’s great.
15. The Slutcracker: A Burlesque
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Somerville Theatre
Somerville, MA
Notes: Ashley invited me to this show. I can only describe it as a burlesque/dance/stripper/play type thing. It was interesting to say the least. It was basically The NutCracker with a lot of sexual overtones, including a giant dildo on stage that came glitter and a lot of exposed breasts with pasties. Good stuff.
1. George Carlin
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Ulster Performing Arts Center
Kingston, NY
Notes: The entire “It’s Bad For Ya” set live just over two weeks after it was on HBO. Is there more to say? It’s Carlin, for Christ’s sake.
2. Meshuggah
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The Palladium
Worcester, MA
Notes: 2nd row. Fucking awesome, although they weren’t on stage long enough. Thomas Haake live, ten feet from me. Does it get better? Plus, they played “The Mouth Licking What You’ve Bled.”
3. George Carlin
Friday, May 2, 2008
Calvin Theater
Northampton, MA
Notes: Notes: 7th row. This was only a few months before he died. He did the “It’s Bad For Ya Set” again. I was the only person to give him a standing ovation when he came out and when he left. This was the best set I had seen from him live. Crowd loved him.
4. Lewis Black
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Palace Theater
Albany, NY
Notes: Great set. He had the audience laughing at the fact that they weren’t laughing. This guy is brilliant. Almost got backstage by telling the souvenir guy that Black is my uncle.
5. The Eagles
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
TD Banknorth Garden
Boston, MA
Notes: I had last row tickets at the top of the Garden. Great show, but I was too far to really feel it. Although, I did sneak down at the end and got to check out the last few songs live. I wouldn’t have been able to die happy if I hadn’t seen these guys live. “In The City” was sick.
6. The Police
Friday, August 1, 2008
Saratoga Performing Arts Center
Saratoga Springs, NY
Notes: I went to this one with Liz and Haggan. We got the first row of lawn seats. We were kind of far away, but it was a good show. Another band I felt as though I had to see before my death. Played a really cool percussion version of, “Wrapped Around You Finger,” my favorite of theirs.
7. Disturbed & Slipknot
Saturday, August 16, 2008
New England Dodge Music Center
Hartford, CT
Notes: 1st row. I went with the Haggan siblings, and Mike’s girlfriend, Megan. This was probably the show I enjoyed most out of the entire year. I had perfect seats (that I snuck down to), went with cool people, and saw two bands I had wanted to see for a long time. I really got into it and was able to start a mosh pit on the closing, “(Sic)” Both bands are perfect live. I was able to catch Joey Jordison’s drumstick at the end, although I ended up having to rightfully give it to the one guy who had two hands on it. Words really can’t describe how awesome this was.
8. TNA Wrestling
Saturday, September 7, 2008
Times Union Center
Albany, NY
Notes: 1st row. I brought my Dad to me with this one to show him a good time. Two drunk guys were there with us all night, so we had a blast. We were right near the ring all night so I created some ruckus. The man himself, Kurt Angle was there, and through my consistent chanting, I was able to get a nod of approval from him (I‘m still 10 years old inside when I go to wrestling shows). Insane fun.
9. TNA Wrestling
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Glens Falls Civic Center
Glens Falls, NY
Notes: 3rd row. This time I brought Liz. We used to go to wrestling shows, but it had been a long time. At first, Liz was hesitant, but once she saw how fun it could be, she had a good time. As for me, I of course, made my good time. Some really drunk guy made Liz and I laugh harder than I had at any of the comedy shows I had been to this year. “Get the faggott!” and “Stomp the fatass!” can only be heard at a wrestling show and be laughed off. I bought the opportunity for Liz to get a picture with AJ Styles and Samoa Joe afterward, and met Booker T and Christy Hemme in the parking lot. I asked Earl Hebner to sign something with, “I screwed Bret,” but he wouldn’t go for it. (look up Montreal Screwjob if you didn’t get that reference).
10. Insane Clown Posse
Sunday, October 12, 2008
The Palladium
Worcester, MA
Notes: I had always wanted to see the clowns live, and it was an experience. The juggalo community was real cool. Never meant so many open minded people in my life. I somehow worked my way up to 2nd row. I have never been to such a wild show. Meshuggah and Slipknot was nothing compared to the amount of moshing and crowd surfing. I was literally sore from my ribcage sticking into the backbone of the girl in front of me all night. By the end of the show, I slipped into the front row and was drenched with Faygo. Honestly, it was as if I had just taken a bath in a tub of soda. Got to pat Shaggy on the back as he walked by and caught an entire bottle of Faygo. I probably won’t go to a plain rap show ever, because of the lack of actual instruments. The clowns, however, kept it interesting enough with the soda, lighting, and theatrics, as well as the crowd being totally into it, so I would see them again.
11. WWE Survivor Series 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
TD Banknorth Garden
Boston, MA
Notes: I sat 7th row camera side, on TV all night, and didn’t even buy a ticket. I decided to go down to the Garden just to create some trouble with wrestling fans and see if I could sneak in. After sneaking to the back where the production trucks were, I soon got kicked out. I came upon a guy giving a speech with about fifteen people around him. I was curious, so I acted like I was part of the group. Next thing I know, he hands me two complimentary 12th row floor seats. Nice. Forty five minutes into the show the same guy comes up and tells me and three other people to go with him. I thought I was being kicked out. No. I was moved to the seventh row facing the camera. Pick up the DVD, I’m on there all night. As for the show, it was awesome.
12. WWE Smackdown
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Times Union Center
Albany, NY
Notes: I brought my Dad, Liz, and Rose Bud to this one. We had a great time. They filmed two whole episodes of Smackdown, so it was a long show. Josh & I both went nuts. By the end of the show, Josh screaming, “UN-DER-TA-KER” and me “WOO-ing” at the top of the arena attracted as much attention as the show itself. The highlight was me chanting “snow cone guy” because Liz wanted one and he was nowhere in sight.
13. Top Rope Promotions Wrestling
Friday, November 28, 2008
Turn Hall
Adams, MA
Notes: Pete invited me to this one. We bought front row tickets, and it was awesome. One of the best shows of the year. I told Pete he would have more fun at a wrestling show than anything he had ever been to, and he agreed by the end of the night (he actually said it was better than going to Yankees games). I went absolutely nuts and was able to get almost every wrestler to talk shit to me. One guy challenged anyone in the audience to wrestle and I got in his face. He was on the mic and said, “I want to fight a man, not some little girl.” Classic shit. Spike Dudley hit me on the head with a stick on accident. I wanted to bring James, but after going, I realized it probably wasn’t a good idea quite yet. Next year.
14. Bill Burr & Christian Finnegan Comedy
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
MCLA Venable Gym
North Adams, MA
Notes: I brought my Mom to this show. Each guy did about an hour set. Awesome stuff. I had never seen Finnegan’s act before, and he was real funny. I had seen Burr before at MCLA, but this time he had a new social commentary type material. It reminded me a lot of Bill Hicks and George Carlin. The audience wasn’t quite with him (who the fuck doesn’t laugh at searching youtube for “people getting attacked by animals?), but I was. I met him after the show and told him I liked the new attitude. Check him out, he’s great.
15. The Slutcracker: A Burlesque
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Somerville Theatre
Somerville, MA
Notes: Ashley invited me to this show. I can only describe it as a burlesque/dance/stripper/play type thing. It was interesting to say the least. It was basically The NutCracker with a lot of sexual overtones, including a giant dildo on stage that came glitter and a lot of exposed breasts with pasties. Good stuff.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Listen To Meshuggah
Because I am always trying to share my joy with others, you should listen to Meshuggah. This band is too talented to go unnoticed. That is all. Thank you.
Here are the lyrics to “The Mouth Licking What You’ve Bled” to get you started:
I'M THE SHALLOW, THE SUPERFICIAL. I'M THE COMMON MAN. FAITHLESS, NARROW MINDED, INDIFFERENT, IMPASSIVE.
A SYCOPHANTIC LEECH. TANTAMOUNT TO DISINTEGRITY. I'M THE VULTURE FEEDING ON MALIGNANCY.
I'M THE SIN, THE LECHEROUS SNEERING AT PROSTRATION. I WALLOW IN DISEASE. I REJOICE AT DEGRADATION.
I YAWN AT MISERY. SPIT AT OTHERS HAPPINESS. AN ADVOCATE OF MANIPULATION. I EMBRACE THE SICKENING.
I'M THE LOST. I'M AVERAGE. I'M COMMON. I'M INFECTION. I'M HUMAN. I'M COMMON
A WORM THRIVING IN SEAS OF DISGUST. I'M COMMON. THE MOUTH LICKING WHAT YOU'VE BLED. I'M COMMON
I'M THE PAMPERED DEGENERATE. I INDULGE MY INCLINATIONS
THE ONLY WORDS TO MY ATTENTION ARE THOSE THAT I MY SELF CREATE
DISORDER. CHAOS.
I DEBAR ALL ORDER, REPUDIATE ALL PURITY. INFATUATED BY CONTENTMENT.
I LAUGH AT LIES. COME BEHOLD THE SICKNESS IN MY COMMON HUMAN EYES.
I'M THE GREED. THE CYNIC. I'M THE INDIFFERENT GAZE.
MENDACITY, BETRAYAL; THIS IS NOT A PHASE
EBULLIENT WITH HUMAN FILTH, HERE I AM. HERE I STAY.
FLOURISHING IN OUR DISGRACE. BLESSED BE THE HUMAN WAY.
Here are the lyrics to “The Mouth Licking What You’ve Bled” to get you started:
I'M THE SHALLOW, THE SUPERFICIAL. I'M THE COMMON MAN. FAITHLESS, NARROW MINDED, INDIFFERENT, IMPASSIVE.
A SYCOPHANTIC LEECH. TANTAMOUNT TO DISINTEGRITY. I'M THE VULTURE FEEDING ON MALIGNANCY.
I'M THE SIN, THE LECHEROUS SNEERING AT PROSTRATION. I WALLOW IN DISEASE. I REJOICE AT DEGRADATION.
I YAWN AT MISERY. SPIT AT OTHERS HAPPINESS. AN ADVOCATE OF MANIPULATION. I EMBRACE THE SICKENING.
I'M THE LOST. I'M AVERAGE. I'M COMMON. I'M INFECTION. I'M HUMAN. I'M COMMON
A WORM THRIVING IN SEAS OF DISGUST. I'M COMMON. THE MOUTH LICKING WHAT YOU'VE BLED. I'M COMMON
I'M THE PAMPERED DEGENERATE. I INDULGE MY INCLINATIONS
THE ONLY WORDS TO MY ATTENTION ARE THOSE THAT I MY SELF CREATE
DISORDER. CHAOS.
I DEBAR ALL ORDER, REPUDIATE ALL PURITY. INFATUATED BY CONTENTMENT.
I LAUGH AT LIES. COME BEHOLD THE SICKNESS IN MY COMMON HUMAN EYES.
I'M THE GREED. THE CYNIC. I'M THE INDIFFERENT GAZE.
MENDACITY, BETRAYAL; THIS IS NOT A PHASE
EBULLIENT WITH HUMAN FILTH, HERE I AM. HERE I STAY.
FLOURISHING IN OUR DISGRACE. BLESSED BE THE HUMAN WAY.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Uplifting Post? Almost.
I almost always post things that are a questioning accepted standards and that are try to make some sort of point about society. Because of this, a lot of the time, my work seems like a downer, although I do try to keep it funny to lighten the mood.
Because of this, the other day, I attempted to find something uplifting to post onto this Blog. I wanted to find something that I had written that was just fun and playful. I went through almost 50 pages of things I have written lately and realized not one happy, uplifting thing was written. I guess I am just very cynical.
My reason is quite simple. I personally do not enjoy reading stories about happy experiences. I don’t want to hear a bunch of songs from a happy point of view. Or a book. Or comedy. Or any form of artistic expression. It is just boring. Oh, you are happy. Good for you. I don’t need to hear about it. Keep that shit to yourself and your loved ones.
You need hardship and bad shit in your life to have that emotion that comes out in your creativity. You need some pain in order to express it back towards the world in a filtered, artful way. If you are happy, good for you. Don’t tell me about it. I want to enjoy art by people who were beaten as children, who are depressed, and who grew up in hardship. People who had to scratch and claw their way to the top. People who have something meaningful to say other than, "I am happy, listen to this shit." No, Bill Hicks, I don’t want my rock stars dead, I want my rock stars depressed, sad, pissed off, and mistreated.
Just so you know, this is where that really happy-go-lucky, bring a smile to your face piece would have been.
Because of this, the other day, I attempted to find something uplifting to post onto this Blog. I wanted to find something that I had written that was just fun and playful. I went through almost 50 pages of things I have written lately and realized not one happy, uplifting thing was written. I guess I am just very cynical.
My reason is quite simple. I personally do not enjoy reading stories about happy experiences. I don’t want to hear a bunch of songs from a happy point of view. Or a book. Or comedy. Or any form of artistic expression. It is just boring. Oh, you are happy. Good for you. I don’t need to hear about it. Keep that shit to yourself and your loved ones.
You need hardship and bad shit in your life to have that emotion that comes out in your creativity. You need some pain in order to express it back towards the world in a filtered, artful way. If you are happy, good for you. Don’t tell me about it. I want to enjoy art by people who were beaten as children, who are depressed, and who grew up in hardship. People who had to scratch and claw their way to the top. People who have something meaningful to say other than, "I am happy, listen to this shit." No, Bill Hicks, I don’t want my rock stars dead, I want my rock stars depressed, sad, pissed off, and mistreated.
Just so you know, this is where that really happy-go-lucky, bring a smile to your face piece would have been.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
The Beard
I started growing my beard on Christmas day, after I saw a picture of myself with a clean shaven face. My face looked like a babies bottom. No, I don’t mean it looked as smooth as a babies behind, I mean my face literally looked like an ass. So, from that point on, I decided to stop shaving and have a beard. Now that I have a beard, some say it looks like I have pubes on my face. Well, I used to look like an ass, now I look like a ball sack. I’m fucked either way.
I have always wanted to have facial hair, ever since I was a kid. It was interesting to me that stuff would grow out of my face, like a living Chia pet, but with even less work. I’m not really sure why, but I was always interested in how my face would look with hair all over it. I already knew what it looked like with zits, scars, scrapes, bumps, and bruises. So, why not try something new? And, women can’t do it. It sets me apart. That and the penis thing. Plus, animals can’t grow beards. It makes me feel much cooler than, say, an armadillo. Armadillos aren’t cool anyway, but, they are even less cool because they can’t grow beards.
I am twenty-three, but I could never seem to grow anything more than a little stubble in my teen years. I didn’t want to be walking around like that old lady with six white whiskers sticking out of her chin who is, for some reason, always carrying something in a plastic Big Y bag. I wanted a real beard. A man’s beard. A badass beard. Problem was, puberty didn’t hit me until late. I was a late bloomer, especially in my face (pun intended).
Well, that all changed about two years ago. I finally sprouted some hairs on my favorite part of my body, and even some on my face. After toying with a few different styles for a year or so, I realized I had the potential to grow a full, thick beard. I knew going in that women aren’t a big fan of facial hair. But, facial hair is a secondary sexual characteristic. I realized that since my firstdary sexual characteristics weren’t quite getting it done for me, it was best to stack the odds in my favor. It didn’t bother me that much anyway, because I wanted to look older and be attractive towards older, wiser women. I wanted to be thought of as “intellectual.” My love of pro wrestling just wasn’t getting that done.
A lot of people think I did it because I was sick of shaving. Shaving never bothered me. I was sick of trying to trim. I hated having to even up the sides if I wanted a goatee, keeping my sideburns the same length, and making sure my chin line was shaped correctly. A “fuck it” attitude never hurt anybody, right? Please, don’t answer that.
If you want to know the truth, the real reason is that I am extremely cheap and decided to save a few bucks by not buying electric razors and shaving cream. Plus, I don’t use straight razors, and they turned off my electricity. I told you I was cheap. I know it doesn’t seem it, mainly because I had time to write this, but I am a busy guy, and I just ran out of time to shave. That extra ten minutes could be used to do something totally productive. Yes, sleep is productive.
I actually did a lot of research on growing a beard. I know what you are thinking, and yes, I do have a job. But, in my free time, I enjoy researching different topics, and on certain days, that topic was - in fact, beards. Through my research, I noticed that most of the interesting people throughout history had full beards: Socrates, Lao Tzu, George Carlin, Santa Claus, God, Jesus, Charles Manson, Plato, Aristotle, Epicurus, Aquinas, Galiliei, Darwin, Karl Marx, Freud, James Randi, Rasputin, Leonardo Da Vinci, Confucius, Nostradamus, John Lennon, Osho, and the local bum. I consider a lot of these men my heroes. Well, all except for the one who created a small following of a few, cult-like friends, got them to do whatever he wanted, and then ended up being responsible for a number of deaths. I am talking about Jesus, of course. Some of the best thinkers and artists throughout history never bothered to shave. It seemed like a pretty good group to be identified with. I found that if you had a beard, you were just a little bit more interesting. As a side note, I also found that a lot of really messed up people have a mustache. Adolph Hitler, Josef Stalin, Saddam Hussein, Vlad Dracula, Tom Selleck, and your in the closest gay uncle come to mind.
People ask me all the time: why do you have it? Four simple words: what would Jesus do? No, the truth is I killed someone for asking to many questions, and I’m a fugitive on the run from the police, so I’m changing my look. All jokes aside, the reason I have it is because I like it. I like the look, the feel, the texture, the style. I think my beard completes my look. I love having to comb it. I like washing it in the shower with the rest of my hair. You have seen how those women react to Herbal Essences? Imagine that not only on my scalp, but on my face. Sorry for the visual. The truth is, I have enjoyed every minute of the beard growing phase. And, the longer it gets, the more I like it. Like my dick.
One of the main things I like is how having a beard is unique nowadays, especially if it is full and untrimmed. And, each beard is distinctive too. Every beard is different, even though that are in a lot of ways the same. Sort of a parallel with humanity. How cute, huh? I guess I’m like a fingerprint. Another reason I have it is because I don’t really want to look like a kid anymore. There is an old Greek saying that says, “There are two kinds of people in this world that go around beardless - boys and women - and I am neither one.” I know Greeks are hairy mother fuckers and that’s the only reason one of them said it, but hell, I like that quote, plus my nephew is Greek, so back off.
The reaction I get always makes me feel good. Although, a first date calling it “hideous“ didn‘t help my self-confidence all that much, but then again, I never did find out why she had so much facial hair herself. Perhaps the beard isn’t the problem, but my social choices about who I decide to spend time with. I’ll ask the physiatrist, next visit. I seem to like the attention of someone saying, “Wow, I didn’t recognize you with the beard.” Good, I didn’t want to talk to you in the first place. There’s a reason I stopped shaving; so you nimrods from eight years ago don’t notice me and act like we are “homies.”
Regarding reaction, there seems to be some sort of unwritten camaraderie amongst bearded people (mostly men, if I see a woman with a beard, I tend not to mention it to her). We have a connection, to the point where a great beard is mentioned if seen. You can just tell if someone is interested in beards. This theory backfires, though, as I have had people stare blankly back at me after mentioning their beard. You know how an audience looks if they don’t get a joke? Yeah, just like that. It’s getting to be obsessive, because it’s at the point where I seek out bearded people at parties to talk to. Don‘t worry, I have been seeing a shrink and trying to get out of the house more often.
I do get a lot of negative reaction to it. I’ve been told to “shave that thing off your face.” I find a quick, “grow it on that thing you call a face” usually does the trick. I’ve been asked, “how can you kiss someone with that beard?” “Ask your mother” ended that conversation quite quickly. “Just trim it a bit” is also a popular request. “Just beat it” sends them off. I tend to hear “You would look so much better without the beard” quite often. Even though indirectly this is a slight compliment, I always take it as someone needing to point out the fact that my face could be more attractive, something I have known since middle school.
The oddest reaction I got was when I heard, “Aren’t you going to shave for your sister’s wedding?” No! Why would I? Honestly? What would be the reason? Why would I change how I look everyday because she is getting married? I am proud of how I look. Are you going to get your tattoos removed for that night? If totally necessary, my beard comes off in a matter of three minutes. That heart shaped tattoo of the women you fell in love with when you were twenty two who ended up cheating on you with a circus animal doesn’t come off. Ever. People said to me, “You want to look good in the pictures.” I do look good. Plus, this was coming from fat people. Well, are you going to lose weight so you look good in the pictures? I know the camera adds a few pounds, but 200? The pretentiousness and audacity of people to ask such things is amazing to me. I wanted to tell people, I will shave…if you lose a quick 150. Don’t ask me to change how I look because it isn’t the norm. I feel the need to let you know that just because you are a fat slob and that is the norm in today’s society does not mean you look good.
The truth about the negativity associated with beards is that it comes down to one of two things. Usually, it is something I like to call Beard Envy. I define it as “A little known psychological defect amongst humans who wish to grow a bitchin’ beard, but do not or cannot.” Either that, or it is pogonophobia, fear of beards. People are scared of the unknown and the mysterious. And, a beard is mysterious because it is rare. People don’t really know much about them and they are too frightened to learn…woah, this is getting way too philosophical. I bet fifteen bucks I already lost half of my readers. PARIS HILTON! BRITNEY SPEARS! Okay, they are back.
Growing a beard is a very liberating experience. You totally let go and a beard shows others that you won’t do something simply because others tell you to. It is about freedom of expression, and it shows you are willing to do what makes you happy, despite others objections. You won‘t conform to society for your job or because your boss tells you to. Personally, I’d never take a job where they could tell me how my own face could look. Unless it was in porn. Why would you let someone else tell you how to run your life, down to something as major as your own face? Same thing with relationships. I have talked to people who get into arguments about their beards with their wives. Listen, if your loved one is willing to get mad and break up with you over a beard, the problems are much deeper. Perhaps she is mad you spent the last months grocery expenditure solely on “booze and gamblin.” Maybe your beard is telling you both it’s time to move on. Growing a beard brings out not only your true self and true nature, but does the same for anyone else around you.
On a similar note, I find that you can discover who is open minded and who is close minded simply by having a beard on your face. I have noticed four people who have not ragged on me whatsoever about my beard: My mom, my dad, and my two sisters. Not once. My gram does because she thinks it looks dirty. But, she’s old, so fuck her. Her opinion doesn’t matter, she‘ll be dead soon anyway. It’s odd, but you really get to see who your true loved ones are simply by how they react to hair growing on your face.
I want to point something out. Because I seem to hear, “What’s with the beard?” quite often, I feel obligated to let you in on a little fact. Allow me to turn this on you, and flip your mind here. I never ask people, “What’s with the shaven face?” It says something about society and humans in general when we have evolved so far that we are at the point where the weird people are the ones who DON’T take a sharp metal object to their face and cut off the hair that grows naturally from it. I’m not quite sure what is says, but something along the lines of, “We are fucked up” seems about right.
Of course, there are quirky things that you will never have happen unless you have a beard. On Monday, August 11, 2008, I zipped my beard. Yes, I actually kept track of that. I seem to find beard hairs all over the bathroom now. Eating has become a bit more difficult. For instance, no matter what you eat, you always need a napkin. I have noticed it has been getting increasingly harder to eat doughnuts. Especially the white powdered ones. Usually when I’m done with a pack of those, it looks like I went down on the Pillsbury Doughboy. Try eating a grinder without biting off half of your mustache hairs. The other day, I actually had corn in my beard. Through the process, I’ve also discovered the acne solution. When you have a beard you don’t get pimples, and even if you do, you can’t notice them. Fuck ProActiv. I might not be quite on level with some of the other great thinkers with beards, but I’m working my way there.
I tend to hear many more descriptive adjectives come my way. In addition to the usual “asshole,” “freak,” and “tool” lately, I have been described as, “Bill Walton - the early years” “the kid with the glasses and the beard,” “the mountain man,” “Paul Bunyan,” “The Geico Caveman,” “leprechaun,” “Alexander Supertramp,” “a homeless guy,” and “lumberjack.”
I recommend growing a beard to anyone. It‘s a journey. This beard has seen a lot. The end of my relationship with a girl I was in love with, the wedding of my sister, the guy I killed the other ni…whoops, you weren’t supposed to know about that. The fact is that even if I want to shave it, I can’t. I bet my sister 100 bucks I wouldn’t shave it off for a year.
I have always wanted to have facial hair, ever since I was a kid. It was interesting to me that stuff would grow out of my face, like a living Chia pet, but with even less work. I’m not really sure why, but I was always interested in how my face would look with hair all over it. I already knew what it looked like with zits, scars, scrapes, bumps, and bruises. So, why not try something new? And, women can’t do it. It sets me apart. That and the penis thing. Plus, animals can’t grow beards. It makes me feel much cooler than, say, an armadillo. Armadillos aren’t cool anyway, but, they are even less cool because they can’t grow beards.
I am twenty-three, but I could never seem to grow anything more than a little stubble in my teen years. I didn’t want to be walking around like that old lady with six white whiskers sticking out of her chin who is, for some reason, always carrying something in a plastic Big Y bag. I wanted a real beard. A man’s beard. A badass beard. Problem was, puberty didn’t hit me until late. I was a late bloomer, especially in my face (pun intended).
Well, that all changed about two years ago. I finally sprouted some hairs on my favorite part of my body, and even some on my face. After toying with a few different styles for a year or so, I realized I had the potential to grow a full, thick beard. I knew going in that women aren’t a big fan of facial hair. But, facial hair is a secondary sexual characteristic. I realized that since my firstdary sexual characteristics weren’t quite getting it done for me, it was best to stack the odds in my favor. It didn’t bother me that much anyway, because I wanted to look older and be attractive towards older, wiser women. I wanted to be thought of as “intellectual.” My love of pro wrestling just wasn’t getting that done.
A lot of people think I did it because I was sick of shaving. Shaving never bothered me. I was sick of trying to trim. I hated having to even up the sides if I wanted a goatee, keeping my sideburns the same length, and making sure my chin line was shaped correctly. A “fuck it” attitude never hurt anybody, right? Please, don’t answer that.
If you want to know the truth, the real reason is that I am extremely cheap and decided to save a few bucks by not buying electric razors and shaving cream. Plus, I don’t use straight razors, and they turned off my electricity. I told you I was cheap. I know it doesn’t seem it, mainly because I had time to write this, but I am a busy guy, and I just ran out of time to shave. That extra ten minutes could be used to do something totally productive. Yes, sleep is productive.
I actually did a lot of research on growing a beard. I know what you are thinking, and yes, I do have a job. But, in my free time, I enjoy researching different topics, and on certain days, that topic was - in fact, beards. Through my research, I noticed that most of the interesting people throughout history had full beards: Socrates, Lao Tzu, George Carlin, Santa Claus, God, Jesus, Charles Manson, Plato, Aristotle, Epicurus, Aquinas, Galiliei, Darwin, Karl Marx, Freud, James Randi, Rasputin, Leonardo Da Vinci, Confucius, Nostradamus, John Lennon, Osho, and the local bum. I consider a lot of these men my heroes. Well, all except for the one who created a small following of a few, cult-like friends, got them to do whatever he wanted, and then ended up being responsible for a number of deaths. I am talking about Jesus, of course. Some of the best thinkers and artists throughout history never bothered to shave. It seemed like a pretty good group to be identified with. I found that if you had a beard, you were just a little bit more interesting. As a side note, I also found that a lot of really messed up people have a mustache. Adolph Hitler, Josef Stalin, Saddam Hussein, Vlad Dracula, Tom Selleck, and your in the closest gay uncle come to mind.
People ask me all the time: why do you have it? Four simple words: what would Jesus do? No, the truth is I killed someone for asking to many questions, and I’m a fugitive on the run from the police, so I’m changing my look. All jokes aside, the reason I have it is because I like it. I like the look, the feel, the texture, the style. I think my beard completes my look. I love having to comb it. I like washing it in the shower with the rest of my hair. You have seen how those women react to Herbal Essences? Imagine that not only on my scalp, but on my face. Sorry for the visual. The truth is, I have enjoyed every minute of the beard growing phase. And, the longer it gets, the more I like it. Like my dick.
One of the main things I like is how having a beard is unique nowadays, especially if it is full and untrimmed. And, each beard is distinctive too. Every beard is different, even though that are in a lot of ways the same. Sort of a parallel with humanity. How cute, huh? I guess I’m like a fingerprint. Another reason I have it is because I don’t really want to look like a kid anymore. There is an old Greek saying that says, “There are two kinds of people in this world that go around beardless - boys and women - and I am neither one.” I know Greeks are hairy mother fuckers and that’s the only reason one of them said it, but hell, I like that quote, plus my nephew is Greek, so back off.
The reaction I get always makes me feel good. Although, a first date calling it “hideous“ didn‘t help my self-confidence all that much, but then again, I never did find out why she had so much facial hair herself. Perhaps the beard isn’t the problem, but my social choices about who I decide to spend time with. I’ll ask the physiatrist, next visit. I seem to like the attention of someone saying, “Wow, I didn’t recognize you with the beard.” Good, I didn’t want to talk to you in the first place. There’s a reason I stopped shaving; so you nimrods from eight years ago don’t notice me and act like we are “homies.”
Regarding reaction, there seems to be some sort of unwritten camaraderie amongst bearded people (mostly men, if I see a woman with a beard, I tend not to mention it to her). We have a connection, to the point where a great beard is mentioned if seen. You can just tell if someone is interested in beards. This theory backfires, though, as I have had people stare blankly back at me after mentioning their beard. You know how an audience looks if they don’t get a joke? Yeah, just like that. It’s getting to be obsessive, because it’s at the point where I seek out bearded people at parties to talk to. Don‘t worry, I have been seeing a shrink and trying to get out of the house more often.
I do get a lot of negative reaction to it. I’ve been told to “shave that thing off your face.” I find a quick, “grow it on that thing you call a face” usually does the trick. I’ve been asked, “how can you kiss someone with that beard?” “Ask your mother” ended that conversation quite quickly. “Just trim it a bit” is also a popular request. “Just beat it” sends them off. I tend to hear “You would look so much better without the beard” quite often. Even though indirectly this is a slight compliment, I always take it as someone needing to point out the fact that my face could be more attractive, something I have known since middle school.
The oddest reaction I got was when I heard, “Aren’t you going to shave for your sister’s wedding?” No! Why would I? Honestly? What would be the reason? Why would I change how I look everyday because she is getting married? I am proud of how I look. Are you going to get your tattoos removed for that night? If totally necessary, my beard comes off in a matter of three minutes. That heart shaped tattoo of the women you fell in love with when you were twenty two who ended up cheating on you with a circus animal doesn’t come off. Ever. People said to me, “You want to look good in the pictures.” I do look good. Plus, this was coming from fat people. Well, are you going to lose weight so you look good in the pictures? I know the camera adds a few pounds, but 200? The pretentiousness and audacity of people to ask such things is amazing to me. I wanted to tell people, I will shave…if you lose a quick 150. Don’t ask me to change how I look because it isn’t the norm. I feel the need to let you know that just because you are a fat slob and that is the norm in today’s society does not mean you look good.
The truth about the negativity associated with beards is that it comes down to one of two things. Usually, it is something I like to call Beard Envy. I define it as “A little known psychological defect amongst humans who wish to grow a bitchin’ beard, but do not or cannot.” Either that, or it is pogonophobia, fear of beards. People are scared of the unknown and the mysterious. And, a beard is mysterious because it is rare. People don’t really know much about them and they are too frightened to learn…woah, this is getting way too philosophical. I bet fifteen bucks I already lost half of my readers. PARIS HILTON! BRITNEY SPEARS! Okay, they are back.
Growing a beard is a very liberating experience. You totally let go and a beard shows others that you won’t do something simply because others tell you to. It is about freedom of expression, and it shows you are willing to do what makes you happy, despite others objections. You won‘t conform to society for your job or because your boss tells you to. Personally, I’d never take a job where they could tell me how my own face could look. Unless it was in porn. Why would you let someone else tell you how to run your life, down to something as major as your own face? Same thing with relationships. I have talked to people who get into arguments about their beards with their wives. Listen, if your loved one is willing to get mad and break up with you over a beard, the problems are much deeper. Perhaps she is mad you spent the last months grocery expenditure solely on “booze and gamblin.” Maybe your beard is telling you both it’s time to move on. Growing a beard brings out not only your true self and true nature, but does the same for anyone else around you.
On a similar note, I find that you can discover who is open minded and who is close minded simply by having a beard on your face. I have noticed four people who have not ragged on me whatsoever about my beard: My mom, my dad, and my two sisters. Not once. My gram does because she thinks it looks dirty. But, she’s old, so fuck her. Her opinion doesn’t matter, she‘ll be dead soon anyway. It’s odd, but you really get to see who your true loved ones are simply by how they react to hair growing on your face.
I want to point something out. Because I seem to hear, “What’s with the beard?” quite often, I feel obligated to let you in on a little fact. Allow me to turn this on you, and flip your mind here. I never ask people, “What’s with the shaven face?” It says something about society and humans in general when we have evolved so far that we are at the point where the weird people are the ones who DON’T take a sharp metal object to their face and cut off the hair that grows naturally from it. I’m not quite sure what is says, but something along the lines of, “We are fucked up” seems about right.
Of course, there are quirky things that you will never have happen unless you have a beard. On Monday, August 11, 2008, I zipped my beard. Yes, I actually kept track of that. I seem to find beard hairs all over the bathroom now. Eating has become a bit more difficult. For instance, no matter what you eat, you always need a napkin. I have noticed it has been getting increasingly harder to eat doughnuts. Especially the white powdered ones. Usually when I’m done with a pack of those, it looks like I went down on the Pillsbury Doughboy. Try eating a grinder without biting off half of your mustache hairs. The other day, I actually had corn in my beard. Through the process, I’ve also discovered the acne solution. When you have a beard you don’t get pimples, and even if you do, you can’t notice them. Fuck ProActiv. I might not be quite on level with some of the other great thinkers with beards, but I’m working my way there.
I tend to hear many more descriptive adjectives come my way. In addition to the usual “asshole,” “freak,” and “tool” lately, I have been described as, “Bill Walton - the early years” “the kid with the glasses and the beard,” “the mountain man,” “Paul Bunyan,” “The Geico Caveman,” “leprechaun,” “Alexander Supertramp,” “a homeless guy,” and “lumberjack.”
I recommend growing a beard to anyone. It‘s a journey. This beard has seen a lot. The end of my relationship with a girl I was in love with, the wedding of my sister, the guy I killed the other ni…whoops, you weren’t supposed to know about that. The fact is that even if I want to shave it, I can’t. I bet my sister 100 bucks I wouldn’t shave it off for a year.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
The Tuesday, December 9, 2008 Edition Of The Metro Boston Bothered Me
Here's Why:
On the front page, a descriptive headline read: “Pregnant girlfriend of Dorchester man, accused or raping a 10-year-old girl, learns sordid truth at his arraignment” Doesn’t it sound like the pregnant girlfriend did the raping? This headline does not need, “learns sordid truth” because it sounds like the man was not only accused of the rape, but charged with committing it, which isn’t true. The subject in this sentence is supposed to be the pregnant girl. Therefore, as goofy as it sounds, the correct title should read: "Pregnant girlfriend learns sordid truth of Dorchester boyfriend being accused of raping a 10-year-old-girl."
Also, there was an article, “If Jim Morrison had survived to his 65th.” Why does anyone care?! Why did they waste the time researching this and coming up with a computerized image of what he would look like today? I’m a music fan, but this just doesn‘t have a purpose. And, why is this in my newspaper? Is this necessary or relevant? No. And, is it news? No. It’s fantasy. Which takes me to...
I also read that a man was charged with child pornography for a spoof of The Simpsons characters having sex. No joke, he was actually charged with kiddie porn for animation of Simpsons characters fucking. What the fuck? It’s a cartoon. It’s not reality. It’s called a fantasy. What is next? Are they going to charge people with child porn for fantasizing about fucking their 17 year old daughter’s friends? Are they going to get inside people’s minds and charge them with shit just for thinking it? The Simpsons are not real characters, this makes no sense whatsoever.
I also have to note that I read a story about a study done on procrastinating. It said, “…many are not necessarily idle or indecisive - rather they are impulsive and are easily distracted by other things.” Yes, just like squirrels. We have the attention span of rodents. This, at least is noteworthy. However, I already realized it just by spending time amongst people for more than 5 minutes.
I also read my horoscope. It said, “Get ready for a surprise.” That’s not vague at all. A surprise? Wow. Mind altering. I better be ready for that. Also, the dates for my horoscope, Aries, are from March 21 to April 19. That’s not vague either. A month of time and everyone born within that is supposed to have the same horoscope. Who thinks of this, and more importantly, who follows it? Sadly, enough people to the point where it is always printed in the newspaper. I have a problem with that. Why is it in a news paper? It’s not news at all. It’s fantasy. Stick to the news, let the hokey books be published about this astrological bullshit. Is someone actually getting paid to write these horoscopes? And, why is ink and valuable newspaper space being wasted on such an idiotic idea? I’ll never understand this stuff.
One last thing, I was reading an ad about a book and it’s seminar called “Rich Dad Poor Dad: What The Rich Teach Their Kids About Money - That The Poor And Middle Cass Do Not!” I think the author failed to realize that the poor and middle class don’t have enough money to know and learn about money themselves. How are the poor supposed to teach their kids about money when they don’t know anything about it? The poor don’t have any money to learn about in the first place, so they can’t pass that knowledge onto their children, they don’t have the knowledge themselves. This book, and the seminar about it, is supposed to teach one how to attain money, budget it properly and keep it long term. If the author had that much money, and was good with it, he wouldn’t need to write a book to pick up extra cash. One last thing about this that jumped out to me as odd. It says, “Having two dads as advisors offered me the perspective of contrasting points of view: one of a rich man and one of a poor man.” So, did this guy grow up with gay married lovers? Or, is this a fictitious story? If it’s legit and he grew up with a gay couple, one good with money and the other bad, it sounds like an interesting story. Plus, how do you have two dads anyway? You need an egg in there somewhere to produce a child. I’m really confused and I just might go to this seminar to find out about this stuff.
On the front page, a descriptive headline read: “Pregnant girlfriend of Dorchester man, accused or raping a 10-year-old girl, learns sordid truth at his arraignment” Doesn’t it sound like the pregnant girlfriend did the raping? This headline does not need, “learns sordid truth” because it sounds like the man was not only accused of the rape, but charged with committing it, which isn’t true. The subject in this sentence is supposed to be the pregnant girl. Therefore, as goofy as it sounds, the correct title should read: "Pregnant girlfriend learns sordid truth of Dorchester boyfriend being accused of raping a 10-year-old-girl."
Also, there was an article, “If Jim Morrison had survived to his 65th.” Why does anyone care?! Why did they waste the time researching this and coming up with a computerized image of what he would look like today? I’m a music fan, but this just doesn‘t have a purpose. And, why is this in my newspaper? Is this necessary or relevant? No. And, is it news? No. It’s fantasy. Which takes me to...
I also read that a man was charged with child pornography for a spoof of The Simpsons characters having sex. No joke, he was actually charged with kiddie porn for animation of Simpsons characters fucking. What the fuck? It’s a cartoon. It’s not reality. It’s called a fantasy. What is next? Are they going to charge people with child porn for fantasizing about fucking their 17 year old daughter’s friends? Are they going to get inside people’s minds and charge them with shit just for thinking it? The Simpsons are not real characters, this makes no sense whatsoever.
I also have to note that I read a story about a study done on procrastinating. It said, “…many are not necessarily idle or indecisive - rather they are impulsive and are easily distracted by other things.” Yes, just like squirrels. We have the attention span of rodents. This, at least is noteworthy. However, I already realized it just by spending time amongst people for more than 5 minutes.
I also read my horoscope. It said, “Get ready for a surprise.” That’s not vague at all. A surprise? Wow. Mind altering. I better be ready for that. Also, the dates for my horoscope, Aries, are from March 21 to April 19. That’s not vague either. A month of time and everyone born within that is supposed to have the same horoscope. Who thinks of this, and more importantly, who follows it? Sadly, enough people to the point where it is always printed in the newspaper. I have a problem with that. Why is it in a news paper? It’s not news at all. It’s fantasy. Stick to the news, let the hokey books be published about this astrological bullshit. Is someone actually getting paid to write these horoscopes? And, why is ink and valuable newspaper space being wasted on such an idiotic idea? I’ll never understand this stuff.
One last thing, I was reading an ad about a book and it’s seminar called “Rich Dad Poor Dad: What The Rich Teach Their Kids About Money - That The Poor And Middle Cass Do Not!” I think the author failed to realize that the poor and middle class don’t have enough money to know and learn about money themselves. How are the poor supposed to teach their kids about money when they don’t know anything about it? The poor don’t have any money to learn about in the first place, so they can’t pass that knowledge onto their children, they don’t have the knowledge themselves. This book, and the seminar about it, is supposed to teach one how to attain money, budget it properly and keep it long term. If the author had that much money, and was good with it, he wouldn’t need to write a book to pick up extra cash. One last thing about this that jumped out to me as odd. It says, “Having two dads as advisors offered me the perspective of contrasting points of view: one of a rich man and one of a poor man.” So, did this guy grow up with gay married lovers? Or, is this a fictitious story? If it’s legit and he grew up with a gay couple, one good with money and the other bad, it sounds like an interesting story. Plus, how do you have two dads anyway? You need an egg in there somewhere to produce a child. I’m really confused and I just might go to this seminar to find out about this stuff.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
I Wish I Had Some Cool Special Effects For This Title So You Would Want To Read It
I know this is a new one, but enough of these stupid graphic novel movies already. I’m calling these out before they get too popular.
Sin City and 300 were enough, but to my joy, there is a new one coming out called, “The Spirit.” Those responsible for these movies cannot get any more pompous. They think because they produce movies with weird visual and lighting CGI effects, they can get away with boring, pointless plotlines that make no sense. The only thing that makes less sense is anyone bothering to watch one of these “graphic novel adaptations.”
Don’t trying mixing animated film and live action film to be different just for the sake of being different. This isn’t “Who Framed Roger Rabbit.” That came out in 1988 and the special effects were more believable. Oh, and by the way, employing half of Hollywood to star in these movies doesn’t get me motivated to see them either.
If I wanted to watch a comic book come to life, I’d take some acid and read one. Seriously, watching these movies is like being stuck in a bad trip. I just want it to end, but the weird colors won’t stop spinning, nothing makes any sense, and it slows down when I least want it to. I tend to throw up at the end too.
I watched the theatrical trailer to “The Spirit,” but I have no clue what it’s about. It showed a bunch of people running around getting shot at doing backflips in slow motion. Also included: lots of girls in skimpy outfits, oversized guns, and outlandish makeup. It looks like a transvestite gay pride parade meets an NRA convention.
I also saw the TV commercial, which had a Christmas song playing. I guess it was trying to put me in “The Spirit” of the holiday season. Not necessary. If I wanted to feel cheated out of my money and depressed because I have to sit through something I don‘t want to, I’m already spending the holidays with the in-laws.
This Frank Miller jerk-off has to be stopped. Someone, somewhere, please, dress up in a goofy douche bag outfit, wear tons of unnecessary makeup and jewelry, bring along a nonexistent creature (that is placed in a setting that is supposed to be reality), and shoot him in slow motion with an extra large gun (make sure this is all filmed in black and white tones so that the red blood shows up even more). Try to do this all in front of a green screen so we can add some cool stuff afterward.
You want to make a good movie based on a comic book? Watch Superman: The Movie or Superman II. And you know what, screw it, watch III and IV. Superman IV is awesome. I don’t care what you say, the Nuclear Man is the shit. Frank Miller could also do himself a favor by watching the original 1989 Batman or the two newer versions with Christian Bale. That’s how you turn a comic book into a movie.
Sunday, December 7, 2008.
Sin City and 300 were enough, but to my joy, there is a new one coming out called, “The Spirit.” Those responsible for these movies cannot get any more pompous. They think because they produce movies with weird visual and lighting CGI effects, they can get away with boring, pointless plotlines that make no sense. The only thing that makes less sense is anyone bothering to watch one of these “graphic novel adaptations.”
Don’t trying mixing animated film and live action film to be different just for the sake of being different. This isn’t “Who Framed Roger Rabbit.” That came out in 1988 and the special effects were more believable. Oh, and by the way, employing half of Hollywood to star in these movies doesn’t get me motivated to see them either.
If I wanted to watch a comic book come to life, I’d take some acid and read one. Seriously, watching these movies is like being stuck in a bad trip. I just want it to end, but the weird colors won’t stop spinning, nothing makes any sense, and it slows down when I least want it to. I tend to throw up at the end too.
I watched the theatrical trailer to “The Spirit,” but I have no clue what it’s about. It showed a bunch of people running around getting shot at doing backflips in slow motion. Also included: lots of girls in skimpy outfits, oversized guns, and outlandish makeup. It looks like a transvestite gay pride parade meets an NRA convention.
I also saw the TV commercial, which had a Christmas song playing. I guess it was trying to put me in “The Spirit” of the holiday season. Not necessary. If I wanted to feel cheated out of my money and depressed because I have to sit through something I don‘t want to, I’m already spending the holidays with the in-laws.
This Frank Miller jerk-off has to be stopped. Someone, somewhere, please, dress up in a goofy douche bag outfit, wear tons of unnecessary makeup and jewelry, bring along a nonexistent creature (that is placed in a setting that is supposed to be reality), and shoot him in slow motion with an extra large gun (make sure this is all filmed in black and white tones so that the red blood shows up even more). Try to do this all in front of a green screen so we can add some cool stuff afterward.
You want to make a good movie based on a comic book? Watch Superman: The Movie or Superman II. And you know what, screw it, watch III and IV. Superman IV is awesome. I don’t care what you say, the Nuclear Man is the shit. Frank Miller could also do himself a favor by watching the original 1989 Batman or the two newer versions with Christian Bale. That’s how you turn a comic book into a movie.
Sunday, December 7, 2008.
Friday, December 5, 2008
The World Is Fucked Up
Men who stand around for a portion of the year playing an outdoor game are paid millions of dollars. Men who rush into burning down houses year round to save people’s lives are not paid at all.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Whoring It Up For Carlin
On Tuesday, November 25th, George Carlin’s DVD, “It’s Bad For Ya” was released. Watch it!George Carlin died four months after filming this show, but I’m not promoting it because he’s dead. I’d be doing so anyway. There is nothing worse than special treatment to dead people just because they are dead. As Carlin once said, “Fuck the dead!”
This is Carlin’s fourteenth HBO special that was filmed, the last recorded before his death. Even at the age of 70, Carlin is still the best at what he does.
“It’s Bad For Ya” deals with all the bullshit in the world, and more specifically, America. Carlin claims that, “bullshit is the glue that binds us as a nation.” As always, his love of language, his biting social satire, his great writing ability, and his hilarious comedic abilities shine. Carlin is always questioning the world we live in, and continues to do so on this show by pushing and evolving thought. He is the philosopher of our generation.
Although the show isn’t as harsh as his previous 2005 effort, “Life Is Worth Losing” it’s just as funny. He is able to maintain the cynic attitude but keep his attitude upbeat. Carlin, as always, holds nothing back. During this show, he attacks our belief systems about death and the afterlife, obsessed parents and their children, stupid and boring people, national pride, God, religion, and our rights as humans.
If you are uptight, easily offended, or unwilling to think, George Carlin isn’t for you. But, if you want to hear the truth and to laugh at jokes that also have a purpose, check this out. I was privileged enough to see him perform the one hour set live twice before his death. Since you can’t do that, do the next best thing and watch this DVD.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Holy Confusion
I always thought that Holy Communion, or The Eucharist, is one of the funniest, dumbest, and least studied rituals to come out of religion. For those uninformed, it's the time where you go up and eat a wafer and drink some wine, in remembrance of the last supper of Jesus and his disciples.
This usually takes place on Sunday morning. I'm always thinking, "I had a nice breakfast, I’m not really up for a cracker right now." Is this stuff is supposed to be filling? A quarter size piece of wafer and a sip of wine. This is church, I just put 5 bucks in the offering plate, can I at least get a decent meal? I guess I'll just wait for the doughnuts at "coffee hour." (always my favorite part of church)
Everyone from the church goes up to the front and kneels at the altar. The priest becomes a bartender for the next 10 minutes, but, he doesn’t even get a tip. First, he hands you a little wafer. This is the body of Christ. Some people think it literally becomes the body of Christ when the priest blesses it. I'm not kidding. These people are cannibals by definition, and they are eating their own savior. I thought they loved Jesus, now they are eating his dead remains. If you think that is bad, next up is the "blood of Christ" which you are supposed to drink. I know it sounds absolutely absurd and ridiculous, which it is, but it's all true. Church wants you to be a vampire for your own god. My question: How'd they find his body? I was always told, "On the third day he rose again in accordance with the Scriptures." Yeah, I just quoted the Nicene Creed without having to look it up.
You get to wait, tongue out like a dog waiting to be fed (more like a sheep), and watch as everyone before you sips wine out of the same cup. The priest wipes off the cup from one person to the next. He, and everyone else around, acts like that actually cleans it off. Maybe it does, we are in church remember, so it could be one of those "miracles." At this point, I usually look at the people to my right and have a little mental breakdown as I realize I am going to be sipping out of the same cup as the whole congregation. I shared less saliva on my seventh grade basketball team when I passed my gatorade around. If you are drinking out of the same cup as that odd guy who plays the bagpipes, wears a kilt for fun, and takes my teenage sister for a plane ride alone, maybe god doesn't quite have his priorities straight with you.
I usually eat the wafer and by the time the priest gets to me with the wine, I am so full, I tell him, “I’m good man. Totally full. Had enough of the body. Jesus is surprisingly filling.” Jesus Christ. Literally.
After he passes me by, I watch as he serves wine to the seven year old to my left. Church is the only place that can provide children with alcohol and get away with it. I used to think those few idiotic parents in high school who let all the teenagers come to their house to party were bad.
Next time you're at church, have a drink on me, and remember to tip your bartender.
This usually takes place on Sunday morning. I'm always thinking, "I had a nice breakfast, I’m not really up for a cracker right now." Is this stuff is supposed to be filling? A quarter size piece of wafer and a sip of wine. This is church, I just put 5 bucks in the offering plate, can I at least get a decent meal? I guess I'll just wait for the doughnuts at "coffee hour." (always my favorite part of church)
Everyone from the church goes up to the front and kneels at the altar. The priest becomes a bartender for the next 10 minutes, but, he doesn’t even get a tip. First, he hands you a little wafer. This is the body of Christ. Some people think it literally becomes the body of Christ when the priest blesses it. I'm not kidding. These people are cannibals by definition, and they are eating their own savior. I thought they loved Jesus, now they are eating his dead remains. If you think that is bad, next up is the "blood of Christ" which you are supposed to drink. I know it sounds absolutely absurd and ridiculous, which it is, but it's all true. Church wants you to be a vampire for your own god. My question: How'd they find his body? I was always told, "On the third day he rose again in accordance with the Scriptures." Yeah, I just quoted the Nicene Creed without having to look it up.
You get to wait, tongue out like a dog waiting to be fed (more like a sheep), and watch as everyone before you sips wine out of the same cup. The priest wipes off the cup from one person to the next. He, and everyone else around, acts like that actually cleans it off. Maybe it does, we are in church remember, so it could be one of those "miracles." At this point, I usually look at the people to my right and have a little mental breakdown as I realize I am going to be sipping out of the same cup as the whole congregation. I shared less saliva on my seventh grade basketball team when I passed my gatorade around. If you are drinking out of the same cup as that odd guy who plays the bagpipes, wears a kilt for fun, and takes my teenage sister for a plane ride alone, maybe god doesn't quite have his priorities straight with you.
I usually eat the wafer and by the time the priest gets to me with the wine, I am so full, I tell him, “I’m good man. Totally full. Had enough of the body. Jesus is surprisingly filling.” Jesus Christ. Literally.
After he passes me by, I watch as he serves wine to the seven year old to my left. Church is the only place that can provide children with alcohol and get away with it. I used to think those few idiotic parents in high school who let all the teenagers come to their house to party were bad.
Next time you're at church, have a drink on me, and remember to tip your bartender.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Happy Thanksgiving
Today is Thanksgiving. If you didn’t know, that means you are supposed to give thanks. Break the word down. Thanks. Giving. Giving thanks. So, start giving thanks…asshole! It’s a good day to hang out with family and friends and remember what is important. It’s one of those necessary days for people, because no one ever stops to think about what is important in their life. Never mind worrying about getting laid, being considered cool, and making a lot of money, and realize there are many more important things. Sit down, relax, and remember what, or more importantly, who, is important, and make sure to let them know. While you are eating a slaughtered turkey and watching a bunch of roided freaks throw around a ball, make sure you take the time to look around and realize how much you have.
If you are reading this, you are lucky enough to have the internet. Some people aren’t even able to eat food. Your petty little problems about your girlfriend dumping you for a circus animal are nothing compared to not being able to eat. If there is anyone reading this that has nowhere to go and no one who cares, call me up. Ask for John Pitroff. 413 207 2745. I guarantee you a warm place to stay, a meal to eat, and some cool people to hang out with. No one should have to spend a holiday like this alone. I’m thankful for a lot of stuff in my life, namely everything I have. I don’t want to gloat about everything I have and everything I am thankful for, because I’d be here writing this until the holiday is over. But, if you need someone to care, somewhere to go, and something to eat, let me know.
Have a Happy Thanksgiving and let everyone know how thankful you are. Peace and love.
If you are reading this, you are lucky enough to have the internet. Some people aren’t even able to eat food. Your petty little problems about your girlfriend dumping you for a circus animal are nothing compared to not being able to eat. If there is anyone reading this that has nowhere to go and no one who cares, call me up. Ask for John Pitroff. 413 207 2745. I guarantee you a warm place to stay, a meal to eat, and some cool people to hang out with. No one should have to spend a holiday like this alone. I’m thankful for a lot of stuff in my life, namely everything I have. I don’t want to gloat about everything I have and everything I am thankful for, because I’d be here writing this until the holiday is over. But, if you need someone to care, somewhere to go, and something to eat, let me know.
Have a Happy Thanksgiving and let everyone know how thankful you are. Peace and love.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Trix
Growing up, I always rooted for the Trix Rabbit to get some of the Trix. Still do. That poor rabbit only wants some Trix. What’s the big deal? Give the mother fucker some Trix already. Actually, they did a poll to learn if kids wanted to see him eat it, and kids voted in favor of him getting some. So, in one commercial, he had a scoop. But, why can’t he just eat Trix all the time? Why are the kids in the commercials so selfish? Give the hungry rabbit some food. Trix aren’t even that good. If I was one of those kids, I’d give the rabbit some Trix if he asked me. If a cartoon rabbit has the ability to walk erect on two legs into my house, speak directly to me, and try to fool me into giving him Trix by getting into a disguise, I’d say he deserves some just for the effort. Apparently, Trix aren’t for kids, they are for selfish, glutinous brats.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Untitled (working out)
I’ve finally got motivated to go to the gym. Well, it’s not really that I got motivated. I got a free two week membership at Bally’s. Oh, and the fact that I don’t have a job so I have nothing better to do. But, I guess I’m doing something good getting my ass off the couch where I spend countless hours writing this shit.
The only reason I’m going is to look good. That’s it. I’m not fat, but I used to be. Right now, I have so much extra skin, if it was 1950, I’d be a prime target for Ed Gein. I go with the Lester Burnham weight loss goal of, “I want to look good naked.” My goals do not include getting strong, being in good cardiovascular shape, or being able to bench a certain amount. I don’t even want to, “have increased strength and flexibility.” I’m simply trying to shed my moobs and get some abs.
I start by doing cardio. My dad can do 2 hours on the treadmill, and he’s 59. You know how long I can do? 30 minutes, tops. By the time I am sweating more than a priest at a boy scout meeting, I cool down and try to get back to reality. I hit a peek where I’m in a trance listening to my music, running, and staying focused on my workout, I forget to check out that girl bending over right in front of me. Once I can focus again, I head over to the weights…well, after I check out that girl.
Then, I start my weight training. I’m used to lifting up Twix peanut butter bars to my mouth, not dumbbells to my chest. How much can I bench? I don’t really know, but it’s a good place to sit down and relax. I work out my chest, abs, and arms. I haven’t really worked on my back. And, my legs…who needs those? I’d work out my deltoid if I knew what it was. Triceps? Since I have three, you would think I would know where at least one of them is. I’d make some lame joke about the heart being the biggest muscle in the human body and equating that with the heart to get in the gym and exercise, but I won’t do that to you. By the way, why do human muscles sound like prehistoric dinosaurs?
Going to the gym is hard. The workout itself it tough, but, do you know the hardest part? Clicking all the buttons on the machines. Why can’t I just turn the thing on and go? No, I have to pick a setting, put in my weight, decide if I want to do cardio, go up hills, or become Lance Armstrong. Things have changed since the last time I went to the gym. Apparently, there have been great advances in the industry in the last 23 years.
Another hard part about the gym is not so much the lifting, but figuring out how to get into the machines without killing myself. If I’m successful at that, I still have to figure out what each machine is supposed to do. In addition to losing weight, I wouldn’t be surprised if I also lost a leg.
There are distractions at the gym. It’s hard not to fall off the treadmill seeing hot chicks in tight spandex walking by every few seconds. Why are these girls working out? Everyone already wants them. Maybe they just have big hearts (sorry, I couldn’t help it). Then, there are the loud muscle heads lifting more than their doubled IQ. I have to turn my iPod all the way up just to stop hearing some guy grunting so much it sounds like a he’s making a homemade porn.
These guys make me look bad by comparison. I’m over in the corner lifting up the equivalent of my 15 month old nephew, they’re strapping machines to other machines then lifting them both. The fact is, I’m out of my comfort zone in a gym, so, I take solace in the fact that I’m probably smarter than all of them. It makes me feel better about myself. I think there is a reason they are called dumbbells.
One last thing about the gym experience; what’s with all the personal trainers walking around everywhere you look? These guys follow around their clients all over the gym. I’d get one, but I’m just not ready for a relationship yet. “Excuse me, sir, I don’t really consider lifting my dick to piss part of my routine, so can you please get out of the stall?!” How do I go about getting a career lying on top of hot women bending their legs backwards? These personal trainers are lucky guys. Then again, they also have to deal with the likes this:
I think I’ll just take ‘roids.
November 20, 2008
The only reason I’m going is to look good. That’s it. I’m not fat, but I used to be. Right now, I have so much extra skin, if it was 1950, I’d be a prime target for Ed Gein. I go with the Lester Burnham weight loss goal of, “I want to look good naked.” My goals do not include getting strong, being in good cardiovascular shape, or being able to bench a certain amount. I don’t even want to, “have increased strength and flexibility.” I’m simply trying to shed my moobs and get some abs.
I start by doing cardio. My dad can do 2 hours on the treadmill, and he’s 59. You know how long I can do? 30 minutes, tops. By the time I am sweating more than a priest at a boy scout meeting, I cool down and try to get back to reality. I hit a peek where I’m in a trance listening to my music, running, and staying focused on my workout, I forget to check out that girl bending over right in front of me. Once I can focus again, I head over to the weights…well, after I check out that girl.
Then, I start my weight training. I’m used to lifting up Twix peanut butter bars to my mouth, not dumbbells to my chest. How much can I bench? I don’t really know, but it’s a good place to sit down and relax. I work out my chest, abs, and arms. I haven’t really worked on my back. And, my legs…who needs those? I’d work out my deltoid if I knew what it was. Triceps? Since I have three, you would think I would know where at least one of them is. I’d make some lame joke about the heart being the biggest muscle in the human body and equating that with the heart to get in the gym and exercise, but I won’t do that to you. By the way, why do human muscles sound like prehistoric dinosaurs?
Going to the gym is hard. The workout itself it tough, but, do you know the hardest part? Clicking all the buttons on the machines. Why can’t I just turn the thing on and go? No, I have to pick a setting, put in my weight, decide if I want to do cardio, go up hills, or become Lance Armstrong. Things have changed since the last time I went to the gym. Apparently, there have been great advances in the industry in the last 23 years.
Another hard part about the gym is not so much the lifting, but figuring out how to get into the machines without killing myself. If I’m successful at that, I still have to figure out what each machine is supposed to do. In addition to losing weight, I wouldn’t be surprised if I also lost a leg.
There are distractions at the gym. It’s hard not to fall off the treadmill seeing hot chicks in tight spandex walking by every few seconds. Why are these girls working out? Everyone already wants them. Maybe they just have big hearts (sorry, I couldn’t help it). Then, there are the loud muscle heads lifting more than their doubled IQ. I have to turn my iPod all the way up just to stop hearing some guy grunting so much it sounds like a he’s making a homemade porn.
These guys make me look bad by comparison. I’m over in the corner lifting up the equivalent of my 15 month old nephew, they’re strapping machines to other machines then lifting them both. The fact is, I’m out of my comfort zone in a gym, so, I take solace in the fact that I’m probably smarter than all of them. It makes me feel better about myself. I think there is a reason they are called dumbbells.
One last thing about the gym experience; what’s with all the personal trainers walking around everywhere you look? These guys follow around their clients all over the gym. I’d get one, but I’m just not ready for a relationship yet. “Excuse me, sir, I don’t really consider lifting my dick to piss part of my routine, so can you please get out of the stall?!” How do I go about getting a career lying on top of hot women bending their legs backwards? These personal trainers are lucky guys. Then again, they also have to deal with the likes this:
I think I’ll just take ‘roids.
November 20, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
UFC: Ultimate Fake Championship
Brock Lesnar won the Ultimate Fighting Championship heavyweight title Saturday night. He beat up some old guy that no one cares about to win it. Fans were booing Lesnar and cheering his opponent. Why? Because Lesnar was a fake pussy pro wrestler and he was fighting a legit badass MMA fighter (who ended up getting pounded). I was glad to see him win. The main reason? I’m a pro wrestling fan and I get sick of these UFC fans who think they are better because their “sport” is “real.” You also hear these skull jellies call wrestling “fake fighting.” Hey, guys, Brock Lesnar, a man with three previous MMA fights, one of them a loss, came into your sport and destroyed your champion in less than two rounds.
How fake is that a guy with a three pro fights to his name can come in and fight the champ? I mean, Ultimate Warrior’s promos made more sense than this.
In addition, what does that say for the prestige of the heavyweight title? I just beat up my younger sister, can I get a UFC title fight now? The title belt I made out of a tin pan and duct tape when I was 12 has more credibility. C’mon, UFC promoters, at least make this believable. The last time WWE gave away a title shot so quickly, it was ironically, to Brock Lesnar, roughly six months after debuting on TV. The fact that Brock Lesnar was eligible for a shot at the UFC title after only three fights should be totally insulting to UFC fans. But, it was a smart move by UFC promoters. More on why later.
What these MMA nuts forget to realize is the fact that pro wrestling is an art. It’s drama. It’s not meant to be a real sporting event. It’s meant to be a show. Entertainment. That’s why WWE creates characters. The goal is to have wrestlers that the fans will to pay to see kick asses and wrestlers that the fans will to pay to see get their asses kicked. Good wrestling promoters create characters that people can identify with and characters that people care about.
Creating meaningful characters is something MMA can’t do. 90% of the time, it’s two no-names fighting. Those are called jobbers in wrestling, and fans couldn’t care less. You now how many fighters I remember from Saturday night? Two. Brock Lesnar, who I already knew (from wrestling), and Randy Couture, that old guy I mentioned earlier who got beat up. Problem is, he’s probably done with MMA now, so it doesn’t matter that I remember him. Building up-and-coming stars and “putting over” younger talent on your way out. I guess UFC is paying attention and learning from pro wrestling.
The aim of entertainment, whether that be a sporting event or a drama, is to make money. Lesnar is money. That is the reason he was at the top of the card. He didn’t deserve to be there after three fights. UFC, although they like to crap on pro wrestling as an inferior product, should be thanking pro wrestling. They sold this PPV on the name of Brock Lesnar. That was the selling point. And, the only reason he is a household name is because WWE made him a star.
Creating stars that people want to see is what WWE does. Do you think I would cared if Brock wasn’t on this card? No, I would have been at some other bar that wasn’t a total sausage fest. This PPV was expected to be the UFC’s biggest draw yet. Coincidence? No. How many buys were registered for this PPV simply because of pro wrestling fans wanting to see Lesnar fight?
Lesnar vs. Couture. Pro wrestling vs. MMA. Pro wrestling wins again. As it always will. It’s a better show, and it makes more money. At the core, pro wrestling is just a smarter form of MMA. Wrestling promoters learned early on you could have the same affect and sell just as my tickets without the guys actually trying to hurt each other.
MMA and UFC needs to step up their game. They need entrance videos, they need guys with charisma, they need higher production values, better video packages, and more pyrotechnics. Plus it probably wouldn’t hurt UFC to start planning the outcomes according which guys will bring in the most money (which, I hate to say, could be what they did Saturday night). Then, I will want to watch it. But, then again, if they do all that, they are pretty much pro wrestling anyway.
Monday, November 17, 2008
How fake is that a guy with a three pro fights to his name can come in and fight the champ? I mean, Ultimate Warrior’s promos made more sense than this.
In addition, what does that say for the prestige of the heavyweight title? I just beat up my younger sister, can I get a UFC title fight now? The title belt I made out of a tin pan and duct tape when I was 12 has more credibility. C’mon, UFC promoters, at least make this believable. The last time WWE gave away a title shot so quickly, it was ironically, to Brock Lesnar, roughly six months after debuting on TV. The fact that Brock Lesnar was eligible for a shot at the UFC title after only three fights should be totally insulting to UFC fans. But, it was a smart move by UFC promoters. More on why later.
What these MMA nuts forget to realize is the fact that pro wrestling is an art. It’s drama. It’s not meant to be a real sporting event. It’s meant to be a show. Entertainment. That’s why WWE creates characters. The goal is to have wrestlers that the fans will to pay to see kick asses and wrestlers that the fans will to pay to see get their asses kicked. Good wrestling promoters create characters that people can identify with and characters that people care about.
Creating meaningful characters is something MMA can’t do. 90% of the time, it’s two no-names fighting. Those are called jobbers in wrestling, and fans couldn’t care less. You now how many fighters I remember from Saturday night? Two. Brock Lesnar, who I already knew (from wrestling), and Randy Couture, that old guy I mentioned earlier who got beat up. Problem is, he’s probably done with MMA now, so it doesn’t matter that I remember him. Building up-and-coming stars and “putting over” younger talent on your way out. I guess UFC is paying attention and learning from pro wrestling.
The aim of entertainment, whether that be a sporting event or a drama, is to make money. Lesnar is money. That is the reason he was at the top of the card. He didn’t deserve to be there after three fights. UFC, although they like to crap on pro wrestling as an inferior product, should be thanking pro wrestling. They sold this PPV on the name of Brock Lesnar. That was the selling point. And, the only reason he is a household name is because WWE made him a star.
Creating stars that people want to see is what WWE does. Do you think I would cared if Brock wasn’t on this card? No, I would have been at some other bar that wasn’t a total sausage fest. This PPV was expected to be the UFC’s biggest draw yet. Coincidence? No. How many buys were registered for this PPV simply because of pro wrestling fans wanting to see Lesnar fight?
Lesnar vs. Couture. Pro wrestling vs. MMA. Pro wrestling wins again. As it always will. It’s a better show, and it makes more money. At the core, pro wrestling is just a smarter form of MMA. Wrestling promoters learned early on you could have the same affect and sell just as my tickets without the guys actually trying to hurt each other.
MMA and UFC needs to step up their game. They need entrance videos, they need guys with charisma, they need higher production values, better video packages, and more pyrotechnics. Plus it probably wouldn’t hurt UFC to start planning the outcomes according which guys will bring in the most money (which, I hate to say, could be what they did Saturday night). Then, I will want to watch it. But, then again, if they do all that, they are pretty much pro wrestling anyway.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Heaven Or The Hidden Carnival Ride?
Imagine waiting in line for a carnival ride. The ride is inside a tent, and you are outside waiting for it. While waiting in line, you are told it is there, but you have no proof. You can see the tent, but not inside. Others who have not been inside assure you that it is there. They assure you that the ride is inside the tent. They have no proof either, but they let you know the ride exists.
If you are religious, you cannot wait to get there, into that ride. You cannot wait for that fun. If you are a realist, if you don’t believe in an afterlife, you say, well maybe the ride isn’t even in there. Maybe we are all waiting here for nothing, isn’t that possible? But, to the religious person, that is nonsense. They are going to be rewarded for their time waiting in line. However, I would not sit by and be bored and wait. I know that I will get there eventually anyway. I am going to die, I know that, and I know that I will get to the ride if it is actually there. The religious person wastes their life in line waiting for the ride. I want to leave my spot to play games, and enjoy my life. But, no, not the religious person. They can’t leave their place in line, even though they will get to the ride later on if they want to. They have to make sure they stay in line and be good so they are rewarded with what is behind the tent, the ride. While I am off having fun and enjoying life, they are standing in line waiting for something they don’t know is there for sure.
Finally, they get to the end of the line. After they have wasted years of their lives standing around doing absolutely nothing except standing in line so that they can get into the ride, they go into the tent. To their surprise, it was all a big hoax. There is no ride to have fun on. They have just wasted their entire life trying to get to the fun part of it that should have been this ride. However, the ride is nonexistent. I was off living life and having fun, while they sat in line waiting for their reward by sitting in line. I went and found my ride in life, you waited for your ride behind a curtain that has never been there all along. To their surprise, being in line was actually the ride (life). The big reward ride at the end inside doesn’t exist (afterlife). So, while I enjoyed my time while waiting for death (the ride), I was actually on the ride all along, but I just didn’t know it. They sat in line waiting and missed on the only thing they get in life, a life. They wasted their life trying to get to another. They wasted the only thing they had in hopes of getting to another one. So sad.
If you are religious, you cannot wait to get there, into that ride. You cannot wait for that fun. If you are a realist, if you don’t believe in an afterlife, you say, well maybe the ride isn’t even in there. Maybe we are all waiting here for nothing, isn’t that possible? But, to the religious person, that is nonsense. They are going to be rewarded for their time waiting in line. However, I would not sit by and be bored and wait. I know that I will get there eventually anyway. I am going to die, I know that, and I know that I will get to the ride if it is actually there. The religious person wastes their life in line waiting for the ride. I want to leave my spot to play games, and enjoy my life. But, no, not the religious person. They can’t leave their place in line, even though they will get to the ride later on if they want to. They have to make sure they stay in line and be good so they are rewarded with what is behind the tent, the ride. While I am off having fun and enjoying life, they are standing in line waiting for something they don’t know is there for sure.
Finally, they get to the end of the line. After they have wasted years of their lives standing around doing absolutely nothing except standing in line so that they can get into the ride, they go into the tent. To their surprise, it was all a big hoax. There is no ride to have fun on. They have just wasted their entire life trying to get to the fun part of it that should have been this ride. However, the ride is nonexistent. I was off living life and having fun, while they sat in line waiting for their reward by sitting in line. I went and found my ride in life, you waited for your ride behind a curtain that has never been there all along. To their surprise, being in line was actually the ride (life). The big reward ride at the end inside doesn’t exist (afterlife). So, while I enjoyed my time while waiting for death (the ride), I was actually on the ride all along, but I just didn’t know it. They sat in line waiting and missed on the only thing they get in life, a life. They wasted their life trying to get to another. They wasted the only thing they had in hopes of getting to another one. So sad.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Don’t Read This If You Want To Have Time To Enjoy The Sunlight Or Read It Later At Night (Hell, You Got Long Enough)
This daily savings time shit is starting to piss me off. Why is it dark by 4:30 pm? Christ, I just got up 3 hours ago. I don’t feel like this is necessary. This is depressing. More depressing than the fact that I can’t find my way in the dark in this new area to the drug store to pick up my anti-depression pills. I’d do the research on why we do this, but I don’t care what the reason is. Plus, by the time I found out, it’d be dark out again.
It’s stupid anyway you cut it. Since there is no such thing as time and we make it all up anyway, why not let it stay light until 9 all the time? I’m going to have to get in contact with God about this shit. I know the days get shorter in the winter, but move the clocks the other way so we get more hours in the day. That’s what I’m going to do. Fuck your “schedule,” “meetings,” and “appointments.” If I’m ever late, you know why.
Daylight savings time is just another reason I hate the winter. I’m a summer person, because it’s hot out, there’s no snow, I don’t have to wear winter clothes, and it stays light later. The only thing depressing about the summer is some of the people you see going shirtless (and, yes, I include myself on this list).
Now, at 7 pm, its been dark for 2 ½ hours. I feel like I should be in bed by nine. What am I, 19 again? I mean, my mom isn’t even here to tuck me into my beddy-bye. Plus, my favorite yellow blanky and Hulk Hogan stuffed wrestler are all the way back in storage in North Adams.
As I’m writing this, it’s now 5:28 and outside it’s blacker than a chain smoker’s lungs. I really have to get going to bed so that I can wake up and enjoy tomorrow (night). Have a nice (long) night.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
It’s stupid anyway you cut it. Since there is no such thing as time and we make it all up anyway, why not let it stay light until 9 all the time? I’m going to have to get in contact with God about this shit. I know the days get shorter in the winter, but move the clocks the other way so we get more hours in the day. That’s what I’m going to do. Fuck your “schedule,” “meetings,” and “appointments.” If I’m ever late, you know why.
Daylight savings time is just another reason I hate the winter. I’m a summer person, because it’s hot out, there’s no snow, I don’t have to wear winter clothes, and it stays light later. The only thing depressing about the summer is some of the people you see going shirtless (and, yes, I include myself on this list).
Now, at 7 pm, its been dark for 2 ½ hours. I feel like I should be in bed by nine. What am I, 19 again? I mean, my mom isn’t even here to tuck me into my beddy-bye. Plus, my favorite yellow blanky and Hulk Hogan stuffed wrestler are all the way back in storage in North Adams.
As I’m writing this, it’s now 5:28 and outside it’s blacker than a chain smoker’s lungs. I really have to get going to bed so that I can wake up and enjoy tomorrow (night). Have a nice (long) night.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Monday, November 10, 2008
Religulous Review
---NOTE: Just a quick review of Religulous. Wrote this one pretty quick. Not as funny as it should be, but I don't feel like writing a shitload of jokes, I just wanted to let you all know you should go see this movie.---
Last night I watched Religulous, a religious documentary by comedian, social commentator, and television host Bill Maher. Most of what I write is very similar to what this movie is about. It’s actually a movie I wanted to produce. But, Bill got to it first, since he’s in Hollywood and I’m living out of a shared living room in south Boston. Maybe one day I’ll get to make my own version, as long as the second coming (which, I must say, would be a good name for a porn involving the man himself) doesn’t happen first and most of us are wiped off the planet. By most, I mean the non Jesus loving scum of the Earth; like myself.
I cannot explain how bad I wanted to see this movie. I had been researching it ever since I heard about it. I wanted to go opening day, but it didn’t screen in all theaters. It is the one movie that should have. I guess I’m in the minority, because I usually don’t want to just be entertained, I want to hear a solid point of view and learn something. It was either Religulous or Beverly Hills Chihuahua. See, I get laughed at for going to see Religulous, while you can’t suppress your hard-on for the release of the 2,598 installment of the Bond series (yes, that was a diss at you Alex).
Bill Maher goes to most of the religious hotspots in the world and interviews all types of religious people. This includes higher ups who aren’t too pussy to be on camera, and everyday pee-on folk like you and me. He even interviews Jesus Christ himself. No, I’m not kidding. And, I’m not talking about the Jesus impersonator you probably saw in the previews. He mainly just asks questions and really doesn’t come off as holier than thou. I’m not going to go into detail, but it’s informative, funny, and sometimes frightening. I have been doing research on the religion topic for years now, and I learned a lot from this. Plus, I laughed quite a bit.
This movie could have been better. He covered Judaism, Christianity, and Islam very well. But, he should have focused on some of the more progressive Asian religions. Then again, I’d sit there all day watching a movie like this. He did have to cut it down to a regular movie length. Hopefully the DVD has a bit more, including extended interviews. Some of the people he interviewed just didn’t work out. Why interview that rapper, Bill? Some of the interviews were extremely funny, while others fell flat. I’d be laughing for an entire interview, then they’d move to the next, and the guy was such a charismatic black hole that I didn’t laugh once. Plus, Bill felt the need to interview some pothead who made pot part of his religion. Really not necessary…like me continuing this paragraph.
People have been calling it very offensive. Was it offensive? I don’t know. That’s subjective. Nothing religious offends me because I don’t care about any of it. I guess if the truth offends, then it was offensive. I don’t think the Pope was lining up to see this though. Actually, he wouldn’t even be interviewed for it and had Bill kicked out. I think it could have been a hell of a lot more offensive. If George Carlin had made it, I’m sure it would have been a bit more scathing. But, he’s rotting in hell anyway. If I made it, it would have been a total attack on religion which probably would have gotten me crucified by the Christians.
This is required viewing for everyone. I guarantee you will learn something. If you go into it with an open mind and don’t let your beliefs get in the way of the facts, you might actually have to question your own belief system. I don’t think this movie will convert anyone, though. If some of the tenets of your own religion haven’t made you think, “What the fuck am I thinking,” and converted you, then this won’t either. But, maybe it will help the quiet Atheists, or, at least those that admit, “I don’t know” come out of the closet.
See you in hell.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Last night I watched Religulous, a religious documentary by comedian, social commentator, and television host Bill Maher. Most of what I write is very similar to what this movie is about. It’s actually a movie I wanted to produce. But, Bill got to it first, since he’s in Hollywood and I’m living out of a shared living room in south Boston. Maybe one day I’ll get to make my own version, as long as the second coming (which, I must say, would be a good name for a porn involving the man himself) doesn’t happen first and most of us are wiped off the planet. By most, I mean the non Jesus loving scum of the Earth; like myself.
I cannot explain how bad I wanted to see this movie. I had been researching it ever since I heard about it. I wanted to go opening day, but it didn’t screen in all theaters. It is the one movie that should have. I guess I’m in the minority, because I usually don’t want to just be entertained, I want to hear a solid point of view and learn something. It was either Religulous or Beverly Hills Chihuahua. See, I get laughed at for going to see Religulous, while you can’t suppress your hard-on for the release of the 2,598 installment of the Bond series (yes, that was a diss at you Alex).
Bill Maher goes to most of the religious hotspots in the world and interviews all types of religious people. This includes higher ups who aren’t too pussy to be on camera, and everyday pee-on folk like you and me. He even interviews Jesus Christ himself. No, I’m not kidding. And, I’m not talking about the Jesus impersonator you probably saw in the previews. He mainly just asks questions and really doesn’t come off as holier than thou. I’m not going to go into detail, but it’s informative, funny, and sometimes frightening. I have been doing research on the religion topic for years now, and I learned a lot from this. Plus, I laughed quite a bit.
This movie could have been better. He covered Judaism, Christianity, and Islam very well. But, he should have focused on some of the more progressive Asian religions. Then again, I’d sit there all day watching a movie like this. He did have to cut it down to a regular movie length. Hopefully the DVD has a bit more, including extended interviews. Some of the people he interviewed just didn’t work out. Why interview that rapper, Bill? Some of the interviews were extremely funny, while others fell flat. I’d be laughing for an entire interview, then they’d move to the next, and the guy was such a charismatic black hole that I didn’t laugh once. Plus, Bill felt the need to interview some pothead who made pot part of his religion. Really not necessary…like me continuing this paragraph.
People have been calling it very offensive. Was it offensive? I don’t know. That’s subjective. Nothing religious offends me because I don’t care about any of it. I guess if the truth offends, then it was offensive. I don’t think the Pope was lining up to see this though. Actually, he wouldn’t even be interviewed for it and had Bill kicked out. I think it could have been a hell of a lot more offensive. If George Carlin had made it, I’m sure it would have been a bit more scathing. But, he’s rotting in hell anyway. If I made it, it would have been a total attack on religion which probably would have gotten me crucified by the Christians.
This is required viewing for everyone. I guarantee you will learn something. If you go into it with an open mind and don’t let your beliefs get in the way of the facts, you might actually have to question your own belief system. I don’t think this movie will convert anyone, though. If some of the tenets of your own religion haven’t made you think, “What the fuck am I thinking,” and converted you, then this won’t either. But, maybe it will help the quiet Atheists, or, at least those that admit, “I don’t know” come out of the closet.
See you in hell.
Monday, November 10, 2008
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