Saturday, December 31, 2005
Beards Make you Look More Scary.
Of course I love to stir up trouble...it's what I do. It's a science experiment gone RIGHT. I've also come to the conclusion that if you have a beard, you look like a scary mother fucker. If you don't have a beard, you look like you are trying to be a bad ass.
I mean look at me in these two pictures. One guy you would not want to see in a dark alley. The other you REALLy wouldn't want to see in a dark alley.
Everyone should and will grow beards. This I command.
Thursday, December 29, 2005
He's Mad as Hell. By NSA JOHN
This was accidentally read and posted on an old one but it is a voice and I thought I'd share it. Here's a link to the original post that started it all.
Old Shit
After I take my Vegas vacation by driving about 30 seconds to Las Vegas Blvd. (thanks fuckhead), I'd love to address all this controversy.
This whole mainstream media vilifies Republicans thing is so much horseshit it stinks to hell. Amazing how the mainstream media that supposedly hates GW agreed to sit on the whole NSA spying story for a nice long while.
NSA JOHN point 1
The "mainstream media" didn't attempt to counter any of Bush's claims about WMDs in Iraq in the months of run up to that quagmire. Where were all the Republican haters in the media then? Where are they in covering the war protests? If you believe what you see on TV you'll probably think there haven't been any. Where have they been in reporting on the recent General Accounting Office report on the massive vote fraud from Diebold machines in the last election.
Martha Stewart is famous. End of story. Therefore, she gets treated nice by the media. Ken Lay is infamous, therefore he gets "dragged over the coals." If someone wipes out my retirement I would hope they get their asses more than dragged over any coals available. I would much rather have the media investigate that any day.
If the media were really doing their jobs, instead of reprinting practically verbatim what's said on government press releases, we'd have some more accountability in government. It's amazing how much mainstream media stuff is out there to indicate the truth about 9/11 but none of our media outlets seem able to draw the logical conclusion.
NSA JOHN point 2
We live in a Democracy that is slowly being transformed into a fascist state. Corporate control and consolidation of the media is part of this. The lib left and the cons right are just distractions to keep us fighting amongst ourselves while Bush's cabal attempts to consolidate power. Luckily for us, they're incompetent!
Whether they actively planned and participated in the events of 9/11 or just sat back and allowed them to happen, the fact remains that 3,000 + people were allowed to die so that our current administration could benefit from it politically.
If you look critically at the facts, the anomalies and the HARD SCIENCE of what went down on 9/11 you would quickly realize the official story is a lie at best and a myth at worst.
But, hey, that's not important right now. Did you hear the news is nice to democrats but mean to republicans?
It's a double standard!
Old Shit
After I take my Vegas vacation by driving about 30 seconds to Las Vegas Blvd. (thanks fuckhead), I'd love to address all this controversy.
This whole mainstream media vilifies Republicans thing is so much horseshit it stinks to hell. Amazing how the mainstream media that supposedly hates GW agreed to sit on the whole NSA spying story for a nice long while.
NSA JOHN point 1
The "mainstream media" didn't attempt to counter any of Bush's claims about WMDs in Iraq in the months of run up to that quagmire. Where were all the Republican haters in the media then? Where are they in covering the war protests? If you believe what you see on TV you'll probably think there haven't been any. Where have they been in reporting on the recent General Accounting Office report on the massive vote fraud from Diebold machines in the last election.
Martha Stewart is famous. End of story. Therefore, she gets treated nice by the media. Ken Lay is infamous, therefore he gets "dragged over the coals." If someone wipes out my retirement I would hope they get their asses more than dragged over any coals available. I would much rather have the media investigate that any day.
If the media were really doing their jobs, instead of reprinting practically verbatim what's said on government press releases, we'd have some more accountability in government. It's amazing how much mainstream media stuff is out there to indicate the truth about 9/11 but none of our media outlets seem able to draw the logical conclusion.
NSA JOHN point 2
We live in a Democracy that is slowly being transformed into a fascist state. Corporate control and consolidation of the media is part of this. The lib left and the cons right are just distractions to keep us fighting amongst ourselves while Bush's cabal attempts to consolidate power. Luckily for us, they're incompetent!
Whether they actively planned and participated in the events of 9/11 or just sat back and allowed them to happen, the fact remains that 3,000 + people were allowed to die so that our current administration could benefit from it politically.
If you look critically at the facts, the anomalies and the HARD SCIENCE of what went down on 9/11 you would quickly realize the official story is a lie at best and a myth at worst.
But, hey, that's not important right now. Did you hear the news is nice to democrats but mean to republicans?
It's a double standard!
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
The Most Over Rated Holiday in History
I've been hearing "Next year. 2006 will be my year." The thing is...how do you know this? I'm sure in 2004 the same people were saying, "2005, this is my year." It seems that some people always remember the bad things towards the end of the year that they are so anxious for the New Year. I mean, in all honesty it's easier to remember the shitty things rather than remembering the sweet, wonderful great things. It's just how most Americans think.
So by the end of the year people are so ready for a "New Year," for this "new start" that people like to remind you on how bad that year was for them and can't wait for 01-01-06. I just don't see how there is a big difference between 12-31-05 to 01-01-06. It's just another day in my life. It's just another day. I guess if people were always that optimistic about the next day, everyone would be a doctor, a Nobel Peace Prize winner or me.
The real kicker is that there is no escaping this. You can try and hide but this holiday always finds you. No matter where you are at; bar, lame ass house party, church social...that when it's close to midnight you stop what you are doing and gather around the TV. and watch other people celebrating New Year's Eve. That's another thing that always bothers me…you turn off the music, you stop talking with your friends to see someone else count down. Maybe people do this so it's an official time but for the most part I tend to go away from the crowd.
"Ok, everyone lets count."
10
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
And people start singing. They sing the New Year's song that no one knows the name to (I don't either but I really don't care), that no one knows the lyrics to. People hug you, people you don't know. You are supposed to kiss someone and drink champagne. Wow, it's becoming clear to me now. I think it's getting to me because New Year's Eve is the same no matter what year it is. There is a fixed formula that you go by and I think that this formula sucks. After 30 seconds of celebrating you go back to drinking, fucking or sleeping. It's really a very anti-climatic event.
I've tried really hard to understand this. I've tried really hard to understand the importance of it all and please don't get me started on New Year's Resolutions...
Last Year's Ramblings
Most people look forward to celebrating this after Christmas but in my eyes, I look forward to it being over with.
10
9
8
7
6
5
4
Is this post done yet?
3
2
Almost. We are almost done.
1
We survived another Post.
So by the end of the year people are so ready for a "New Year," for this "new start" that people like to remind you on how bad that year was for them and can't wait for 01-01-06. I just don't see how there is a big difference between 12-31-05 to 01-01-06. It's just another day in my life. It's just another day. I guess if people were always that optimistic about the next day, everyone would be a doctor, a Nobel Peace Prize winner or me.
The real kicker is that there is no escaping this. You can try and hide but this holiday always finds you. No matter where you are at; bar, lame ass house party, church social...that when it's close to midnight you stop what you are doing and gather around the TV. and watch other people celebrating New Year's Eve. That's another thing that always bothers me…you turn off the music, you stop talking with your friends to see someone else count down. Maybe people do this so it's an official time but for the most part I tend to go away from the crowd.
"Ok, everyone lets count."
10
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
And people start singing. They sing the New Year's song that no one knows the name to (I don't either but I really don't care), that no one knows the lyrics to. People hug you, people you don't know. You are supposed to kiss someone and drink champagne. Wow, it's becoming clear to me now. I think it's getting to me because New Year's Eve is the same no matter what year it is. There is a fixed formula that you go by and I think that this formula sucks. After 30 seconds of celebrating you go back to drinking, fucking or sleeping. It's really a very anti-climatic event.
I've tried really hard to understand this. I've tried really hard to understand the importance of it all and please don't get me started on New Year's Resolutions...
Last Year's Ramblings
Most people look forward to celebrating this after Christmas but in my eyes, I look forward to it being over with.
10
9
8
7
6
5
4
Is this post done yet?
3
2
Almost. We are almost done.
1
We survived another Post.
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
This is All I Get? What a Downer.
Hey guys...I know, I'm not writing much today. I'm going to go to bed soon and I have to get up in the morning to deal with the insurance company. My laptop got a killer virus in it and I have to start over from scartch with the web page. I still plan to have something up on the first but please don't expect much. I feel really good about the New Year. I'm sure everyone says that but this time...this time I really mean it.
Friday, December 23, 2005
Happy Holidays
Happy Holidays. I do realize that a lot of you will be spending time with your family the next couple of days and will have no time or need to read this. I just wanted to say thank you so much for a great year. Thanks for keeping me motivated to write. It's tough sometimes, wondering if you have any talent, if you have anything. This blog has really boosted my moral a lot and I see very good things for myself, for the whole crew of At The Corner Bar. Tiz the season to be jolly.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY RANDY!!! 29 years ago today his parents decided they should do the wild thing and they did, only to do it at least two more times after that.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY RANDY!!! 29 years ago today his parents decided they should do the wild thing and they did, only to do it at least two more times after that.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Flowing Read Waves
I don't care what you say...Writer's Block is a bullshit lie.
Telling me that you can't write.
Telling me that you can't post on this because you are scared or that you aren't as good as a writer is all an excuse.
Please, I don't want to hear it anymore.
I also don't want to hear why you are still in your dead-end job.
I don't want to hear about why you are still with that girl/boy because "there are things you don't know them."
I don't want to hear it because frankly, my ears are starting to bleed.
It is coming out of my earlobe, dripping on the pavement.
The puddle is starting to grow.
It's getting deep, so deep that a current is forming.
The waves crash against my feet.
I am falling in, trying to stay a float but it's ok because I crawl out.
I will not drown this time because of you.
I will not see my maker because I don't have a reason, an excuse to fall to the bottom as I take in the last breath.
An excuse to fail.
I will not fail.
I will not fail.
I will not fail this time because time is not on my side anymore.
I got to take that step.
The spotlight is off me as I walk out in the cold air, watching my breathe in the cool, night sky and I still love it.
It's me.
I'm leaving it all behind me.
So long, look at me waving.
This time I mean it.
This time I'm not gonna hold your hand.
It's now or never because I never know if now is right.
Scream if it's the only way I'll hear you.
Make my ears bleed, make me drown because I will not go down.
I will only know that you tried.
That you did it.
You did it because you felt it in your gut.
And I wake up.
I wake up because I want the easy way out.
I won't face my nightmares.
I try too hard to avoid them when I'm awake.
I wake up and the sun is rising and it feels ok on my face.
Just ok because who really likes to wake up?
I'm going back to bed.
I'm going back to my slumber to dream and don't wake me up.
Not this time.
Let me sleep in.
Telling me that you can't write.
Telling me that you can't post on this because you are scared or that you aren't as good as a writer is all an excuse.
Please, I don't want to hear it anymore.
I also don't want to hear why you are still in your dead-end job.
I don't want to hear about why you are still with that girl/boy because "there are things you don't know them."
I don't want to hear it because frankly, my ears are starting to bleed.
It is coming out of my earlobe, dripping on the pavement.
The puddle is starting to grow.
It's getting deep, so deep that a current is forming.
The waves crash against my feet.
I am falling in, trying to stay a float but it's ok because I crawl out.
I will not drown this time because of you.
I will not see my maker because I don't have a reason, an excuse to fall to the bottom as I take in the last breath.
An excuse to fail.
I will not fail.
I will not fail.
I will not fail this time because time is not on my side anymore.
I got to take that step.
The spotlight is off me as I walk out in the cold air, watching my breathe in the cool, night sky and I still love it.
It's me.
I'm leaving it all behind me.
So long, look at me waving.
This time I mean it.
This time I'm not gonna hold your hand.
It's now or never because I never know if now is right.
Scream if it's the only way I'll hear you.
Make my ears bleed, make me drown because I will not go down.
I will only know that you tried.
That you did it.
You did it because you felt it in your gut.
And I wake up.
I wake up because I want the easy way out.
I won't face my nightmares.
I try too hard to avoid them when I'm awake.
I wake up and the sun is rising and it feels ok on my face.
Just ok because who really likes to wake up?
I'm going back to bed.
I'm going back to my slumber to dream and don't wake me up.
Not this time.
Let me sleep in.
Monday, December 19, 2005
If I Wasn't A Celebrity, Would You Still Wanna Hang With Me?
I got a text message from someone I used to work with telling me that the Foo Fighters were going to be at the Aladdin Casino at eight to check in. Later on that night it was rumored that they were going to a party at the Palms and that I could probably get in and when asked if I wanted to go I said,
"When push comes to shove I'm not gonna stalk my favorite band. I greatly appreciate the info and invite."
Yes, I had a possible chance to be in the same room with Dave Grohl but I like to think that I'm a realistic person. I know that I wasn't going to walk up to him and we wouldn't instantly become best friends. I would have been in a group of a thousand other fans trying to talk to him, to make their conversation memorable so the next time they ran into him he would say, "Hey I remember you from Las Vegas. Let’s fucking rock out."
It also brings me to the point that people are obsessed with celebrities. So much to the point that they sell magazines telling us "normal" people how much celebrities are just like us.
"Britney drinks coffee just like us."
"Tom drives a car just like us."
"Julia has massive diarrhea attacks just like us."
Am I touched by lyrics and music to the point that sometimes I almost break down and cry because it brings me to a point in my life where I was most vulnerable? Yes but I won't get a Christmas card from the Foo Fighters (at this point it looks like I won't get any cards except from Randy), they aren't going to be at the birth of my first child and they aren't going to be the ones responsible for my first million.
I think that some of us look for something to hold on to, to make life a little bit easier and I see nothing wrong with that. This world is tough and to find an escape, to find some peace in something is alright. However, I don't see the need to follow someone who wrote a great song, trying to get a picture, yelling their name out loud. They are in the public eye but how would you feel if you were trying to eat dinner with someone and people kept walking up to you trying to get you to sign something because "they loved how you taught high school gym," or "How they thought that you were the best gas pumper they had ever seen." It gets old after awhile and call me crazy, I feel that I should just leave these people alone. They don't know me, I don't know them and that's alright by me because I know in the long run they are still going to make movies, music, write books and do porn and I'm still gonna watch and read it, even if they don't personally address me next time they are on TV.
"When push comes to shove I'm not gonna stalk my favorite band. I greatly appreciate the info and invite."
Yes, I had a possible chance to be in the same room with Dave Grohl but I like to think that I'm a realistic person. I know that I wasn't going to walk up to him and we wouldn't instantly become best friends. I would have been in a group of a thousand other fans trying to talk to him, to make their conversation memorable so the next time they ran into him he would say, "Hey I remember you from Las Vegas. Let’s fucking rock out."
It also brings me to the point that people are obsessed with celebrities. So much to the point that they sell magazines telling us "normal" people how much celebrities are just like us.
"Britney drinks coffee just like us."
"Tom drives a car just like us."
"Julia has massive diarrhea attacks just like us."
Am I touched by lyrics and music to the point that sometimes I almost break down and cry because it brings me to a point in my life where I was most vulnerable? Yes but I won't get a Christmas card from the Foo Fighters (at this point it looks like I won't get any cards except from Randy), they aren't going to be at the birth of my first child and they aren't going to be the ones responsible for my first million.
I think that some of us look for something to hold on to, to make life a little bit easier and I see nothing wrong with that. This world is tough and to find an escape, to find some peace in something is alright. However, I don't see the need to follow someone who wrote a great song, trying to get a picture, yelling their name out loud. They are in the public eye but how would you feel if you were trying to eat dinner with someone and people kept walking up to you trying to get you to sign something because "they loved how you taught high school gym," or "How they thought that you were the best gas pumper they had ever seen." It gets old after awhile and call me crazy, I feel that I should just leave these people alone. They don't know me, I don't know them and that's alright by me because I know in the long run they are still going to make movies, music, write books and do porn and I'm still gonna watch and read it, even if they don't personally address me next time they are on TV.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Can I Ask You Something?
I don't care how you look at it, I don't care how you say it, whatever angle you use, how you write it or mime it, but "Why you are still single?" or "Why aren't married yet?" may be one of the stupidest questions on the face of the Earth. Yes I did say one of the stupidest questions and when I say it like that I don't mean it on the same level as when someone says, "This is the funniest thing I've ever seen." It really isn't one of the funniest scenes you've ever seen, it's just an over used expression. If you think that someone tripping over their shoe is one of the funniest moments in your life, the whole time you've been born, it's time to end it. My point is, those types of questions are fucking stupid.
To me, people who ask you these questions are the people who like to talk during a movie that you just spent ten bucks to see (damn you after six p.m. prices). They love brining up politics at at someone's wake. These are the same people that you always end up in an elevator, with some strange body odor and you are forced to stay on it all the way to the top floor. These are the people you don't want to grow up to be "just like."
So why is it dumb? Well, you should know the answer to that question but just in case you are reading this and you are one of those people who do ask that type of question, let me spell it out for you in as many letters as I can.
Nobody likes to be alone. I enjoy spending time by myself but in the long run I want to get married and have kids. Am I going to date any girl just because I feel the pressure from society? Fuck no. Am I gonna marry her because she's hot, I mean really hot that men get instant boners from? No (ask me when I'm drunk because I may have a different answer to that). The reason why I am on still on the "active list" is because I want to be with someone who knows me. She's not the kind of person I have to explain myself to because she really knows and understands me. I can't help it that I want quality. I can't help it that I'm not the easiest person to understand. That I don't make sense. That I can't explain myself at times, times when I really have to and the only words that come out of my mouth are, "Uh...um..."
Why the fuck do people ask that? Let me ask you a question,
"Why the fuck are you dating that shitty boyfriend? Does he still beat you?"
"Only because he loves me."
I am not sure if this is that person's chance to try and one up you, because you are so much better than they are in so many ways but I seem to get that feeling, that vibe anytime I hear it. It makes me...it really makes me want to sock that person in the face because if they really knew me, if they really KNEW me they wouldn't bother to ask that question and I wouldn't have to be writing about it right now and in the long run that's what it comes down to. So please, to all you dumb ass mo-fo's who are reading this, spread the word to all of your friends. Tell them to stop asking these types of question or the next kind of question your loved ones will be hearing is, "Is this his/her body?" which by now is not one of the stupidest questions on the Earth, it's the GREATEST.
To me, people who ask you these questions are the people who like to talk during a movie that you just spent ten bucks to see (damn you after six p.m. prices). They love brining up politics at at someone's wake. These are the same people that you always end up in an elevator, with some strange body odor and you are forced to stay on it all the way to the top floor. These are the people you don't want to grow up to be "just like."
So why is it dumb? Well, you should know the answer to that question but just in case you are reading this and you are one of those people who do ask that type of question, let me spell it out for you in as many letters as I can.
Nobody likes to be alone. I enjoy spending time by myself but in the long run I want to get married and have kids. Am I going to date any girl just because I feel the pressure from society? Fuck no. Am I gonna marry her because she's hot, I mean really hot that men get instant boners from? No (ask me when I'm drunk because I may have a different answer to that). The reason why I am on still on the "active list" is because I want to be with someone who knows me. She's not the kind of person I have to explain myself to because she really knows and understands me. I can't help it that I want quality. I can't help it that I'm not the easiest person to understand. That I don't make sense. That I can't explain myself at times, times when I really have to and the only words that come out of my mouth are, "Uh...um..."
Why the fuck do people ask that? Let me ask you a question,
"Why the fuck are you dating that shitty boyfriend? Does he still beat you?"
"Only because he loves me."
I am not sure if this is that person's chance to try and one up you, because you are so much better than they are in so many ways but I seem to get that feeling, that vibe anytime I hear it. It makes me...it really makes me want to sock that person in the face because if they really knew me, if they really KNEW me they wouldn't bother to ask that question and I wouldn't have to be writing about it right now and in the long run that's what it comes down to. So please, to all you dumb ass mo-fo's who are reading this, spread the word to all of your friends. Tell them to stop asking these types of question or the next kind of question your loved ones will be hearing is, "Is this his/her body?" which by now is not one of the stupidest questions on the Earth, it's the GREATEST.
Monday, December 12, 2005
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Send Cards To...
It is that time of year again where the annual McCauley/Cotton Christmas Card competition has begun. Right now Lorraine is winning as she has the last two years. This year, I want to taste victory. I know a lot of you read this so I'm asking you to make my Christmas wish come true. Let me taste it again, the sweet taste of a championship title. I ask you, my loyal and dedicated readers, help a brotha out.
Dan McCauley
2951 Siena Heights Dr Apt 4511
Henderson, NV
89052
Remember...only two more weeks till Christmas.
Dan McCauley
2951 Siena Heights Dr Apt 4511
Henderson, NV
89052
Remember...only two more weeks till Christmas.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
I'm Not That Dumb But I Can Pretend
I looked down at my leg today and I noticed that there's a cut on it. It isn't a small cut, a cut that you'd get from rubbing against a branch. It's a deep cut. It's a cut I should have reacted to when I got it. I should have felt the pain. I should have acknowledged it. I should have said, "Ow." I should have said, "Oh dear God. Oh fuck that hurts." I didn't do anything. I didn't even realize that I was injured until today.
Pain does that. Pain is a son of a bitch because it picks and chooses when it will allow you to notice it. Ever sprain your ankle, a really bad sprain but you are still ok to play on it? A day later it's purple, it's swollen and you can't put pressure on it. You can't understand how you were ok the day before but today, today you are so bruised that you can't even stand up. You can only sit there and wait patiently and hope that the pain goes away so someday you'll be ok to walk again.
I look down at this cut and it's irritated. A mixture of dark and light red covers my skin as it fills in the gap. The hole that was left there by some unknown object, thing, person. At this point it's too late to cover it with a band-aid. At this point why hide it? Why hide the pain because I'd only be fooling myself. It's best that the cool air blows over it, to keep the blood dry. To make a protective wall of molecules and white blood cells.
I don't know if it will ever heal, leaving a scar to remind me of this event. I don't know if that scab will ever fall off. All I know is that I'll stare at it to remind me that I'm not as invincible as I thought I was, hoping the next time I bleed, the next time I get cut, I won't ignore it.
Pain does that. Pain is a son of a bitch because it picks and chooses when it will allow you to notice it. Ever sprain your ankle, a really bad sprain but you are still ok to play on it? A day later it's purple, it's swollen and you can't put pressure on it. You can't understand how you were ok the day before but today, today you are so bruised that you can't even stand up. You can only sit there and wait patiently and hope that the pain goes away so someday you'll be ok to walk again.
I look down at this cut and it's irritated. A mixture of dark and light red covers my skin as it fills in the gap. The hole that was left there by some unknown object, thing, person. At this point it's too late to cover it with a band-aid. At this point why hide it? Why hide the pain because I'd only be fooling myself. It's best that the cool air blows over it, to keep the blood dry. To make a protective wall of molecules and white blood cells.
I don't know if it will ever heal, leaving a scar to remind me of this event. I don't know if that scab will ever fall off. All I know is that I'll stare at it to remind me that I'm not as invincible as I thought I was, hoping the next time I bleed, the next time I get cut, I won't ignore it.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Monday, December 05, 2005
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Panty Raid
Why is it that men tend to have ten good pairs of underwear, plus a couple close to retirement and women have their own dresser drawer filled with silk, see through and satin panties? I sometimes wonder if they bought two pair and those two pair fucked like jack rabbits and reproduced until there was no more room. Maybe women feed their panties after midnight, breaking the sacred rule. I really don't know. I do know that women go panty shopping. They leave the house to spend hours looking for something that no body's gonna see except for themselves, husband/boyfriend/girlfriend and the occasional rapist.
It's hard to invision myself going to the mall with my guy friends, holding up a pair of boxer briefs and asking, "I think this is cute. Do you think it would look good on me?"
In no way am I saying this is stupid because lord knows I spent my fare share of time at Best Buy looking through the horror section, wondering if I would like Ginger Snaps, I'm just saying that it boggles my mind...panties that is, not the game Boggle. I do love them so keep buying them ladies. Keep up the good work.
It's hard to invision myself going to the mall with my guy friends, holding up a pair of boxer briefs and asking, "I think this is cute. Do you think it would look good on me?"
In no way am I saying this is stupid because lord knows I spent my fare share of time at Best Buy looking through the horror section, wondering if I would like Ginger Snaps, I'm just saying that it boggles my mind...panties that is, not the game Boggle. I do love them so keep buying them ladies. Keep up the good work.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Tiss the Season
It is here. The time has now come where we look and search for the best Christmas or Hanukah presents in the world. We search every store, every internet site, every dark alley to find the gift that best represents our feelings towards the person we are buying the gift for. In a couple of weeks I know some of you will be handing out gifts to friends and family, eagerly waiting to see their faces after they open their gifts. In a couple of weeks some of you will be getting an envelope from these same people who you got the wonderful gifts for, open them up and see...a gift certificate.
Now I don't know where this idea came around where people thought that this is a good idea but it is not. Gift Certificates should only be handed out during Church raffles and Senior Prom, not during the holiday season. I have to say that it may be one of the biggest cop-outs in the history of the world.
"Well I didn't know what to get you so I got you a twenty dollar gift card to Target. I hope you can find something you like there,"
And this would be the part of the story where I stare back at you, just staring getting angry because I had to wait in line for twenty minutes while a mother of three in front of me thought the best way to shut her bastard kids up was by saying, "Shut up you kids!"
"But it's the thought that counts. The thought."
Fuck the thought because if it was the thought you wouldn't be handing me this gift card, you would be handing me over a gift that you spent some time thinking about, showing that you actually pay attention. Here's an idea, and I’ll save you some time in the future, and just hand me over the twenty in cash. I'll go to the titty club, buy one over-priced Jack and Sprite, stare at some coke whore's tits and go home. Merry Holidays.
Now I don't know where this idea came around where people thought that this is a good idea but it is not. Gift Certificates should only be handed out during Church raffles and Senior Prom, not during the holiday season. I have to say that it may be one of the biggest cop-outs in the history of the world.
"Well I didn't know what to get you so I got you a twenty dollar gift card to Target. I hope you can find something you like there,"
And this would be the part of the story where I stare back at you, just staring getting angry because I had to wait in line for twenty minutes while a mother of three in front of me thought the best way to shut her bastard kids up was by saying, "Shut up you kids!"
"But it's the thought that counts. The thought."
Fuck the thought because if it was the thought you wouldn't be handing me this gift card, you would be handing me over a gift that you spent some time thinking about, showing that you actually pay attention. Here's an idea, and I’ll save you some time in the future, and just hand me over the twenty in cash. I'll go to the titty club, buy one over-priced Jack and Sprite, stare at some coke whore's tits and go home. Merry Holidays.
See You in the Morning
As you can tell I've promised someone that I would write everyday this week. It's been tough but I seem to have managed it. Some quality, some quantity. Tonight on the other hand has not been the case. I've done a lot of different things to try and spark my creativity, as you can tell none have them worked because I'm writing about how I can't write. I'm on my second Mickey's and there isn't anything. Nothing. I don't feel sad. I don't want to pour out my soul to you. The only thing I can think of is how writing is organic. I have forced a lot of things out this week, a lot, and in my eyes it has been shit. I don't care if you think that they were good because in my eyes it has not been up to par. I'm 2 over par right now and though it's not a bad score, there's always room for improvement.
I've come to realize that writing and relationships are the same. They both have to be organic or there's always gonna be something in the back of your mind that makes you wonder.
"What could be better? How can I change this?"
It's hard to force feelings for someone because you know they like you, they just have to be there. You can't force a story out on paper because you think you have to write. A story should flow on paper, like talking with a girl for an hour and not even knowing the time. There shouldn't be the pressure, there shouldn't be a bead of sweat. Yes, I do think that writing is tough. If it was easy everyone would do it and they would do it great. They would do it fucking fantasticly (yes I know that's not a "real" word"). I guess if dating was easy everyone would be doing it. There would be random acts of,
"Hey you, I'm dating you now!!!"
"Oh, ok. Thanks."
But I don't see women doing that for me or pieces of paper. So I have to approach it in a nice, non-threatening way. Let it know that I'm there to make us both compliment each other. That I wouldn't do it unless I knew I could and I ignore it. I ignore it like it was never born. Stare at the ceiling. Stare at my drink. Stare. I do that until I feel it. I dive right in, head first, knowing that it's a six foot deep pool and write. I write till my knuckles bleed. I write till I know that it's safe to sleep. That it's safe to close my eyes and that time has come. It's time for me to put my head on my pillow, dream. Dream of tomorrow when I know I have to do this all over again and I can't wait to wake up.
I've come to realize that writing and relationships are the same. They both have to be organic or there's always gonna be something in the back of your mind that makes you wonder.
"What could be better? How can I change this?"
It's hard to force feelings for someone because you know they like you, they just have to be there. You can't force a story out on paper because you think you have to write. A story should flow on paper, like talking with a girl for an hour and not even knowing the time. There shouldn't be the pressure, there shouldn't be a bead of sweat. Yes, I do think that writing is tough. If it was easy everyone would do it and they would do it great. They would do it fucking fantasticly (yes I know that's not a "real" word"). I guess if dating was easy everyone would be doing it. There would be random acts of,
"Hey you, I'm dating you now!!!"
"Oh, ok. Thanks."
But I don't see women doing that for me or pieces of paper. So I have to approach it in a nice, non-threatening way. Let it know that I'm there to make us both compliment each other. That I wouldn't do it unless I knew I could and I ignore it. I ignore it like it was never born. Stare at the ceiling. Stare at my drink. Stare. I do that until I feel it. I dive right in, head first, knowing that it's a six foot deep pool and write. I write till my knuckles bleed. I write till I know that it's safe to sleep. That it's safe to close my eyes and that time has come. It's time for me to put my head on my pillow, dream. Dream of tomorrow when I know I have to do this all over again and I can't wait to wake up.
Friday, December 02, 2005
Does the Fun Ever Start?
Look. I mean really look at this picture. What do you see wrong? No, it's not that someone has the nerve to park a Toyota Corolla in my apartment complex, but the sheer fact that they have the balls to put something like this on their car.At first I thought that this had to be something important. Like those yellow bands that symbolize your support for the cure of cancer. It never crossed my mind that some people are stupid fucks and would actually find this to be funny.
I needed to find the answer so I researched the net. I typed in "Katrina Survivor bumper sticker" in Google and the only sites that came up were those funny web sites that sell goofy shit. I did come across ONE article that said, and let me paraphrase this, "Katrina took a lot, but it did not take away their sense of humor." You are right. Who wouldn't find your dead brother's body floating down the street HAlarious? I know I would. I'm just waiting for "Concentration Camps helped me pass my S.A.T.'s" or "I lost my virginity on 9/11" bumper stickers and t-shirts.
So how did this happen? Dollar bills yall. I really think that people wait for catastrophes so they can cash in on them. Ever notice how many American flags were sold after 9/11? A shit load because they were everywhere. It's just some mother fucker making money off of a shitty event. I know they aren't donating the money that they get from selling products like these and if they are, it's a fraction of their profits and the only reason would be for a tax write off.
Most things annoy the fuck out of me. Most things don't bother me but for some reason this one makes my stomach sick. It doesn't remind me of what the survivors went through, or the people who weren't as fortunate to get out alive. It reminds me that this country is based on money and we will do whatever we can to make a quick buck, to get the money to buy that Plasma T.V., to take that vacation in the Bahamas. I am no saint in any means, in fact I can be a bastard at times, but when I weigh situations like these out on the scale of reason I find that my conscious out weighs anything else and that my friends is something you can never sell…well, unless I get my asking price on EBay and I’ll let you know when my auction closes in an hour.
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