It is now 3:27 in the a.m. I know it's late because I'm listening to Stern... first run (they re-air it at six). That's always a bad sign. The next bad sign is when I can see the sun begin to shine through my window. Luckily, that won't be for a couple more hours.
Being born in 1977, I was never able to see all of the original Star Wars movies in the theater. I do remember seeing Return of the Jedi with my mom and brothers. I didn't know what was going on, but I loved it. Tonight marks the end of the new, original trilogy. It was everything that I had hoped for and more. Why? Well the main reason is that I was so sick of hearing people, mainly older friends, complain how badly episodes I and II were, that this one will hopefully put their foot in their mouth. With any story, there is an act I, II and III. I don't know what people expected. I'm sure they wanted Lucas to jump right to Darth Vader. When you look at it in the long run, everything makes sense. Lucas had his mind set and whether you want to accept it or not, they are there.
I could go on all night but I'm not. You can tell me that Jar-Jar Binks was a fucking waste of space. The love story was pointless. But this guy's not hearing it. So go out, enjoy the third movie. Don't fear it. Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. I sense much fear in you. So stop it already. Why are you still reading this? GO!!!
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Dave Chappelle, You So Crazy.
Wow...that was one of my more popular posts. In fact, I think it is the most popular one. Wow, the pressure. Now people are going to expect that kind of quality out of me each and every time now. What should I do? Will I break down? Can I handle the pressure? I'm not sure...I may have to commit myself into a mental health facility in South America...wait...somebody already did that. Dave Chappelle. Did you like that lead in...I am quite proud of myself.
Comedy Central has postponed season three of the Chappelle Show…twice. Apparently there is no say on whether or not it will ever see the light of day. It is not certain on why he did this. Of course the rumors are flying; drug rehab, mental break down, etc. I mean a fifty million dollar check would put a lot of pressure on anyone. I put pressure on myself to make people laugh and I do it for free…sometimes I even pay them to laugh at me. But do you want to know my theory? I think he is sick. I really do… sick of people coming up to him and saying, “I’m Rick James, bitch!” or asking “So do you like to piss on your wife too, just like you sang about when you made fun of R. Kelly?” I’d get sick of that too.
In all honesty, I see celebrities as people. So when I see them out in public I don’t go up and talk to them. Why? Because I don’t know them. I wouldn’t want random people I didn’t know coming up and talking to me. Why? Because I don’t know them. The press says that it’s part of their duties as being a celebrity. To please their fans and their audience. Nobody forced them to become actors and yes that is true, but they found something that they really enjoy doing. I know it's not brain surgery, but it's a job. I really don't care if "Britney washes her own car," or "Brad drinks coffee just like us." No shit, ya think, because I do the same thing. I'm just like them.
My point being is that pressure can be good, pressure can be bad. It's like drinking...a beer or two is good for the heart, but if you drink ten beers every day for a month, not so good. So Dave, I'm sure everyone and their mother has given you advice and suggestions...but fuck em. What do they know. If checking yourself into a mental institution is what floats your boat and will help you find peace, more power to you...bitch!
Comedy Central has postponed season three of the Chappelle Show…twice. Apparently there is no say on whether or not it will ever see the light of day. It is not certain on why he did this. Of course the rumors are flying; drug rehab, mental break down, etc. I mean a fifty million dollar check would put a lot of pressure on anyone. I put pressure on myself to make people laugh and I do it for free…sometimes I even pay them to laugh at me. But do you want to know my theory? I think he is sick. I really do… sick of people coming up to him and saying, “I’m Rick James, bitch!” or asking “So do you like to piss on your wife too, just like you sang about when you made fun of R. Kelly?” I’d get sick of that too.
In all honesty, I see celebrities as people. So when I see them out in public I don’t go up and talk to them. Why? Because I don’t know them. I wouldn’t want random people I didn’t know coming up and talking to me. Why? Because I don’t know them. The press says that it’s part of their duties as being a celebrity. To please their fans and their audience. Nobody forced them to become actors and yes that is true, but they found something that they really enjoy doing. I know it's not brain surgery, but it's a job. I really don't care if "Britney washes her own car," or "Brad drinks coffee just like us." No shit, ya think, because I do the same thing. I'm just like them.
My point being is that pressure can be good, pressure can be bad. It's like drinking...a beer or two is good for the heart, but if you drink ten beers every day for a month, not so good. So Dave, I'm sure everyone and their mother has given you advice and suggestions...but fuck em. What do they know. If checking yourself into a mental institution is what floats your boat and will help you find peace, more power to you...bitch!
Sunday, May 08, 2005
The Atkins-Friendly Diet is No “Friend” of Mine.
“Why don’t you go on a diet?”
“Because I like to eat. Is that such a crime?”
Jack Black – School of Rock
I was at a friend’s place the other night and he offered me some ice cream. Having a sweet tooth I took him up on it. Mint Chocolate Chip, one of my favorites, but after the first bite I started looking for the hidden cameras. This is not Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream, this is not even food. The chocolate chips tasted like chalk and even though the ice cream was frozen, it tasted room temperature in my mouth.
“What’s wrong with this ice-cream?,” I ask in a confused state of mind.
“Oh, it’s Atkins-Friendly ice cream.”
“Why does it taste so bad?”
“It’s not that bad.”
Oh but it was that bad. In fact ladies and gentlemen, it was terrible. Why would they want to make ice cream taste bad? Why would they want to make it look like ice cream was good for you? And this event opened my eyes. It was like I was in a slumber for a very, very long time and I started to notice other things around me.
I was at Burger King waiting in line, waiting to buy a nice greasy chicken sandwich and some onion rings (because that’s what you do at a fast food place). It was when I looked to my right and saw that they had an Atkins-Friendly burger.
First of all, it’s taboo to eat a burger without the bun. Second, it’s a burger from Burger King. I doubt that it’s the cream of the crop of meat so just because there are no carbs in it, it doesn’t mean that it’s gonna be great for the ol’ ticker
There was another time I was sitting on the couch drinking a delicious Coca-Cola when I saw a commercial on t.v. for the new C2, which is a new Coke product that has half the carbs of a regular Coke. It had people jumping out of their cars, with “I Want to Break Free” by Queen in the back ground, revolting from the harsh days of regular Coke and it’s “evil” carbs.
They are trying to make C2 look healthier then Coke, which I guess in some weird way it is, but in the long run people, IT’S STILL SODA. This isn’t something that your body needs to survive. You can either have a really sugary soda with lots of carbs, or you can have a really sugary soda with half the carbs. It’s your choice.
And the list goes on and on and on of junk food type related items. They even have low-carb beers. The last thing I’m thinking about when I drink a beer is my carb intake. It is as pointless as buying non-alcoholic beer.
So why am I seeing these junk food items presented to me in an Atkins healthy manner? This was starting to look like one of those get rich scams. You know the type where they say, “It’s really easy to do, there is little work involved and the final results will amaze you.” In all honesty I have seen people lose some weight on it. So it can’t be that bad can it? So I emailed my good friend Bram Spitael and asked why we needed carbohydrates and why is the Atkins diet so popular and this is what he replied,
“In a nutshell, your body NEEDS carbohydrates because it's our number one source of energy. But maybe even more importantly, if you don't care about having energy, you will have one heck of a hard time getting the proper nutrition (i.e. vitamins, minerals, fiber, etc.) from a predominantly protein rich diet. It's your fruits, veggies, legumes, beans, whole grains that contain most of the bulk of these all important nutrients that you simply can not replace by popping a multi-vitamin/mineral supplement while on the Atkins diet. A balanced diet helps your immune system, metabolism, reduces heart disease, lowers risk of certain cancers, energy system,
The problem with the Atkins diet is that it works. People LOVE results and will sacrifice the above mentioned benefits from a balanced diet for the quick fix Atkins diet. Who doesn't LOVE a breakfast of eggs, ham, bacon every morning? A cheeseburger for lunch and a big juicy steak for dinner? See ya in the hospital in about 5 years when all that artery clogging saturated fat finally blocks your arteries!
Bottom line, get OFF your LAZY FAT ASS and do some MODERATE exercise, EAT healthy 5 or 6 days a week, and PIG OUT once or twice a week and vegetate.”
And that paragraph did it for me. There is a difference between eating good and dieting. Eating good is a nice chicken breast, some rice and some steamed vegetables. Dieting is something people do as a New Years resolution or right before it’s time to go to the beach for the Summer. It’s something that you kind of want to do but not put the time into it and this is why the Atkins diet is such a big craze. That’s why it hasn’t faded away like other things such as tight rolling jeans and parachute pants.
The Atkins diet is the lazy man’s diet and that’s why they are gearing it towards people who like to eat. These big time corporations distribute these “friendly” foods for you. The Atkins diet allows you to eat whatever you want, as much as you want, just as long as you don’t eat carbs.
So why do I hate this Atkins diet so much? Well besides the fact that it’s not good for you and is totally going against the Four Food groups that everybody learned in first grade, remember the one that told us to eat our fruits and vegetables, dairy, meat and oh yeah, grains? It’s tainting one of the last pure things that I have left in my life, and that is junk food. It’s one of my guilty pleasures and I want to enjoy a Snickers bar from time to time and don’t want to worry about how many carbs are in it.
I’m not one to preach but you got to open your eyes America. It’s time to take back what is ours. It’s time to say, “I got to break free,” from this Atkins diet and come back to reality. You can’t have both. You can’t have junk food that’s good for you. It’s time to make a choice. I don’t care what they say to you, no matter what, you can’t have your cake and eat it too, even if it is Atkins-Friendly.
“Because I like to eat. Is that such a crime?”
Jack Black – School of Rock
I was at a friend’s place the other night and he offered me some ice cream. Having a sweet tooth I took him up on it. Mint Chocolate Chip, one of my favorites, but after the first bite I started looking for the hidden cameras. This is not Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream, this is not even food. The chocolate chips tasted like chalk and even though the ice cream was frozen, it tasted room temperature in my mouth.
“What’s wrong with this ice-cream?,” I ask in a confused state of mind.
“Oh, it’s Atkins-Friendly ice cream.”
“Why does it taste so bad?”
“It’s not that bad.”
Oh but it was that bad. In fact ladies and gentlemen, it was terrible. Why would they want to make ice cream taste bad? Why would they want to make it look like ice cream was good for you? And this event opened my eyes. It was like I was in a slumber for a very, very long time and I started to notice other things around me.
I was at Burger King waiting in line, waiting to buy a nice greasy chicken sandwich and some onion rings (because that’s what you do at a fast food place). It was when I looked to my right and saw that they had an Atkins-Friendly burger.
First of all, it’s taboo to eat a burger without the bun. Second, it’s a burger from Burger King. I doubt that it’s the cream of the crop of meat so just because there are no carbs in it, it doesn’t mean that it’s gonna be great for the ol’ ticker
There was another time I was sitting on the couch drinking a delicious Coca-Cola when I saw a commercial on t.v. for the new C2, which is a new Coke product that has half the carbs of a regular Coke. It had people jumping out of their cars, with “I Want to Break Free” by Queen in the back ground, revolting from the harsh days of regular Coke and it’s “evil” carbs.
They are trying to make C2 look healthier then Coke, which I guess in some weird way it is, but in the long run people, IT’S STILL SODA. This isn’t something that your body needs to survive. You can either have a really sugary soda with lots of carbs, or you can have a really sugary soda with half the carbs. It’s your choice.
And the list goes on and on and on of junk food type related items. They even have low-carb beers. The last thing I’m thinking about when I drink a beer is my carb intake. It is as pointless as buying non-alcoholic beer.
So why am I seeing these junk food items presented to me in an Atkins healthy manner? This was starting to look like one of those get rich scams. You know the type where they say, “It’s really easy to do, there is little work involved and the final results will amaze you.” In all honesty I have seen people lose some weight on it. So it can’t be that bad can it? So I emailed my good friend Bram Spitael and asked why we needed carbohydrates and why is the Atkins diet so popular and this is what he replied,
“In a nutshell, your body NEEDS carbohydrates because it's our number one source of energy. But maybe even more importantly, if you don't care about having energy, you will have one heck of a hard time getting the proper nutrition (i.e. vitamins, minerals, fiber, etc.) from a predominantly protein rich diet. It's your fruits, veggies, legumes, beans, whole grains that contain most of the bulk of these all important nutrients that you simply can not replace by popping a multi-vitamin/mineral supplement while on the Atkins diet. A balanced diet helps your immune system, metabolism, reduces heart disease, lowers risk of certain cancers, energy system,
The problem with the Atkins diet is that it works. People LOVE results and will sacrifice the above mentioned benefits from a balanced diet for the quick fix Atkins diet. Who doesn't LOVE a breakfast of eggs, ham, bacon every morning? A cheeseburger for lunch and a big juicy steak for dinner? See ya in the hospital in about 5 years when all that artery clogging saturated fat finally blocks your arteries!
Bottom line, get OFF your LAZY FAT ASS and do some MODERATE exercise, EAT healthy 5 or 6 days a week, and PIG OUT once or twice a week and vegetate.”
And that paragraph did it for me. There is a difference between eating good and dieting. Eating good is a nice chicken breast, some rice and some steamed vegetables. Dieting is something people do as a New Years resolution or right before it’s time to go to the beach for the Summer. It’s something that you kind of want to do but not put the time into it and this is why the Atkins diet is such a big craze. That’s why it hasn’t faded away like other things such as tight rolling jeans and parachute pants.
The Atkins diet is the lazy man’s diet and that’s why they are gearing it towards people who like to eat. These big time corporations distribute these “friendly” foods for you. The Atkins diet allows you to eat whatever you want, as much as you want, just as long as you don’t eat carbs.
So why do I hate this Atkins diet so much? Well besides the fact that it’s not good for you and is totally going against the Four Food groups that everybody learned in first grade, remember the one that told us to eat our fruits and vegetables, dairy, meat and oh yeah, grains? It’s tainting one of the last pure things that I have left in my life, and that is junk food. It’s one of my guilty pleasures and I want to enjoy a Snickers bar from time to time and don’t want to worry about how many carbs are in it.
I’m not one to preach but you got to open your eyes America. It’s time to take back what is ours. It’s time to say, “I got to break free,” from this Atkins diet and come back to reality. You can’t have both. You can’t have junk food that’s good for you. It’s time to make a choice. I don’t care what they say to you, no matter what, you can’t have your cake and eat it too, even if it is Atkins-Friendly.
Dead? To Be Continued...
Like Pogs and Slammers and Fruity St. Ides...my blog has lost the powerful force that drove it. Why is this?
Friday, May 06, 2005
Route 66
You know what's really weird is seeing someone you haven't seen in a long time. You know what's weirder then that? Seeing a girl you haven't seen in a long time. And do you want to know what tops that? What tops it all? It’s seeing a girl, that you used to sleep with, that you haven't seen in a long time, and meeting her finance for the first time two days before their wedding.
The countdown has begun. They are coming to Vegas to get married. They have a kid together. They are happy and for some strange reason, all I can think of is that I was the last person she slept with before the guy she's going to marry. I’m the last representation of her single life. Now call me egotistical. Call me paranoid. Call me Dan. All I'm saying is that it's going to be an interesting situation. I don't know how open their relationship is. I don't know what he knows about me. All I know is that he doesn't know me, he's big and strong and I don't know what kind of guy he is after a couple of drinks.
I can say that we didn't date (well she may tell you a different story, since women tend to think differently then men), she's a great person (I mean I wouldn't still chat with her if she wasn't) and that they are getting married (that is self explanatory) And It's not that I wasn't important in her life, it's that there's another 1,897,446,000,984,322,400 miles left on her journey and I'm just a big, fat, juicy bug on the windshield, not slowing her down, but just a reminder of the previous miles she's traveled.
The countdown has begun. They are coming to Vegas to get married. They have a kid together. They are happy and for some strange reason, all I can think of is that I was the last person she slept with before the guy she's going to marry. I’m the last representation of her single life. Now call me egotistical. Call me paranoid. Call me Dan. All I'm saying is that it's going to be an interesting situation. I don't know how open their relationship is. I don't know what he knows about me. All I know is that he doesn't know me, he's big and strong and I don't know what kind of guy he is after a couple of drinks.
I can say that we didn't date (well she may tell you a different story, since women tend to think differently then men), she's a great person (I mean I wouldn't still chat with her if she wasn't) and that they are getting married (that is self explanatory) And It's not that I wasn't important in her life, it's that there's another 1,897,446,000,984,322,400 miles left on her journey and I'm just a big, fat, juicy bug on the windshield, not slowing her down, but just a reminder of the previous miles she's traveled.
Monday, May 02, 2005
A New Recipe For Preparing Eggs. by Dave
Alright gang, I'm back from L.A. I have some good stuff for you but we'll have to wait until I catch up on some beauty sleep. Lord knows I need it, a lot of it. So until then, enjoy this delicious recipe by a good friend of ours here At The Corner Bar.
Everyone has eaten eggs before, everyone knows how to prepare eggs for a tasty “anytime” treat. Simply crack an egg into a hot pan and let it cook until the “white” becomes solid, and depending on your personal preference, it can be flipped or simply removed from the pan without any need to turn it over and cook its top side. These egg preparation techniques are called “over easy” and “sunnyside” up respectively. Or, depending upon how long left to cook after flipped, “over medium” and “over hard.”
Well, I must report that I’ve discovered a new way to prepare these tasty little menstrual cycle byproducts. I don’t simply throw the little lost hopes of life into a hot frying pan. First I pull out a bowl and crack the egg and put it, yoke and all, into the bowl. The great thing about this recipe is that you can use as many eggs as you desire. Simply include in the bowl a tablespoon of milk per aborted chicken fetus. I really don’t know how much milk to include, I just poor from the gallon until it feels right. But I’m guessing that equals about a tablespoon, or quarter cup per egg.
Then take out a fork and vigorously stir the eggs and milk together. Don’t go to long or it will turn to butter. You didn’t know that every time you enjoy a slice of butter you are contributing to the deaths of untold numbers of unborn baby chickens? Did you, you heartless bastard.
Now for the first time you heat up your frying pan and poor the concoction of death inside. Grab a spatula, and as the flesh begins to cook scrap it off the pan’s bottom. Don’t worry about damaging the eggs, they are dead anyway. Just mix those little snuffed out beating hearts up while they cook in the pan. They will slowly begin to turn from the yellow blood like liquid into a light chunky mass. When done they look like fluffy yellow clouds on a clear summer day.
Your eggs are ready to enjoy. Remove them from the pan, placing them on a small dinner plate. They are best served with a slice of toast. You may want to add some salt and pepper.
I call them, “mixed up eggs,” you heartless, baby killing, fuck.
Enjoy!
Everyone has eaten eggs before, everyone knows how to prepare eggs for a tasty “anytime” treat. Simply crack an egg into a hot pan and let it cook until the “white” becomes solid, and depending on your personal preference, it can be flipped or simply removed from the pan without any need to turn it over and cook its top side. These egg preparation techniques are called “over easy” and “sunnyside” up respectively. Or, depending upon how long left to cook after flipped, “over medium” and “over hard.”
Well, I must report that I’ve discovered a new way to prepare these tasty little menstrual cycle byproducts. I don’t simply throw the little lost hopes of life into a hot frying pan. First I pull out a bowl and crack the egg and put it, yoke and all, into the bowl. The great thing about this recipe is that you can use as many eggs as you desire. Simply include in the bowl a tablespoon of milk per aborted chicken fetus. I really don’t know how much milk to include, I just poor from the gallon until it feels right. But I’m guessing that equals about a tablespoon, or quarter cup per egg.
Then take out a fork and vigorously stir the eggs and milk together. Don’t go to long or it will turn to butter. You didn’t know that every time you enjoy a slice of butter you are contributing to the deaths of untold numbers of unborn baby chickens? Did you, you heartless bastard.
Now for the first time you heat up your frying pan and poor the concoction of death inside. Grab a spatula, and as the flesh begins to cook scrap it off the pan’s bottom. Don’t worry about damaging the eggs, they are dead anyway. Just mix those little snuffed out beating hearts up while they cook in the pan. They will slowly begin to turn from the yellow blood like liquid into a light chunky mass. When done they look like fluffy yellow clouds on a clear summer day.
Your eggs are ready to enjoy. Remove them from the pan, placing them on a small dinner plate. They are best served with a slice of toast. You may want to add some salt and pepper.
I call them, “mixed up eggs,” you heartless, baby killing, fuck.
Enjoy!
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Will This Make Your Blog? by Jeff
Ok people, here's the first of many that I've gotten. I hope you enjoy. Keep sending them in to atthecornerbar@yahoo.com.
I've always wanted to know why Martha Stewart was
treated so well by the media, but Ken Lay, CEO of
Enron, was practically skewered. Is that a
double-standard or what? They're both crooks. They
should both be punished.
So why does Martha get a slap on the wrist? She
defrauded people, too.
I'll tell you what I think it is: Martha is part of
the popular clique. She's famous. She gives money to
Democrats. Therefore the media loves her.
Ken Lay? Oh no. He ran a big evil corporation. He's
associated with *gasp* Republicans. He must be the
devil. And he got dragged over the coals.
It's a double-standard.
I've always wanted to know why Martha Stewart was
treated so well by the media, but Ken Lay, CEO of
Enron, was practically skewered. Is that a
double-standard or what? They're both crooks. They
should both be punished.
So why does Martha get a slap on the wrist? She
defrauded people, too.
I'll tell you what I think it is: Martha is part of
the popular clique. She's famous. She gives money to
Democrats. Therefore the media loves her.
Ken Lay? Oh no. He ran a big evil corporation. He's
associated with *gasp* Republicans. He must be the
devil. And he got dragged over the coals.
It's a double-standard.
Sunday, April 24, 2005
Guest Writers Needed
Feel like you have something to say but don't feel like keeping it updated daily? Something on your mind and need to get it off? Have topics you want to touch base on, but don't feel like posting them on your blog? At the Corner Bar welcomes you with open arms, and then some. Contact me at atthecornerbar@yahoo.com with your stories or suggestions. If this doesn't work, I won't cry...much. God speed.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
I'll Have to Look Into this More.
So the other night I was at the drive through ATM. This is when I noticed that there was Braille on it. I found this odd because I wasn't sure that blind people could drive, but as soon as I got done with that thought, a blind man drove up to the ATM next to me. How do I know that he was blind? He rolled down the window and said,
"Hey can you see where the ATM is, I'm a little blind?" in a very condescending voice.
To which I could only reply,
"Yeah, it's to the left of you."
"Oh hey...thanks there buddy," he said as he took a swig from a forty of Mickey's he had in his other hand.
I wasn't sure what was going on but I knew something was up. I knew a chance like this would never happen again so I yelled over to the guy.
"I don't mean to be rude or anything, but it appears that you are blind...and drunk."
"Yeah, isn't it great?"
"Well if you don't mind me asking, how do you know where to go? I mean, how can you drive?"
"Did you ever read Daredevil? All blind people are like that. Ha, just kidding there buddy," he said as he took another swig and mumbles, "That never gets old."
All of these questions ran through my mind; How did he know if they were the right bills he was getting back? Did he really have Daredevil-like powers or was it just blind luck? Why was he drinking and driving? Why am I drinking and driving?
And then it dawned on me. I wasn't drinking and driving. I was laying, passed out in a trunk of a car pissing my pants. I must have had one too many shots and dared someone that I could sit in the trunk of a car. I don't remember now. I don't even remember how I got here. I don't even remember having to piss, but these are things that I don't ask the questions too because I'm still trying to figure out why there is Braille on the drive through ATM's.
"Hey can you see where the ATM is, I'm a little blind?" in a very condescending voice.
To which I could only reply,
"Yeah, it's to the left of you."
"Oh hey...thanks there buddy," he said as he took a swig from a forty of Mickey's he had in his other hand.
I wasn't sure what was going on but I knew something was up. I knew a chance like this would never happen again so I yelled over to the guy.
"I don't mean to be rude or anything, but it appears that you are blind...and drunk."
"Yeah, isn't it great?"
"Well if you don't mind me asking, how do you know where to go? I mean, how can you drive?"
"Did you ever read Daredevil? All blind people are like that. Ha, just kidding there buddy," he said as he took another swig and mumbles, "That never gets old."
All of these questions ran through my mind; How did he know if they were the right bills he was getting back? Did he really have Daredevil-like powers or was it just blind luck? Why was he drinking and driving? Why am I drinking and driving?
And then it dawned on me. I wasn't drinking and driving. I was laying, passed out in a trunk of a car pissing my pants. I must have had one too many shots and dared someone that I could sit in the trunk of a car. I don't remember now. I don't even remember how I got here. I don't even remember having to piss, but these are things that I don't ask the questions too because I'm still trying to figure out why there is Braille on the drive through ATM's.
I'll Have to Look Into this More.
So the other night I was at the drive through ATM. This is when I noticed that there was Braille on it. I found this odd because I wasn't sure that blind people could drive, but as soon as I got done with that thought, a blind man drove up to the ATM next to me. How do I know that he was blind? He rolled down the window and said,
"Hey can you see where the ATM is, I'm a little blind?" in a very condescending voice.
To which I could only reply,
"Yeah, it's to the left of you."
"Oh hey...thanks there buddy," he said as he took a swig from a forty of Mickey's he had in his other hand.
I wasn't sure what was going on but I knew something was up. I knew a chance like this would never happen again so I yelled over to the guy.
"I don't mean to be rude or anything, but it appears that you are blind...and drunk."
"Yeah, isn't it great?"
"Well if you don't mind me asking, how do you know where to go? I mean, how can you drive?"
"Did you ever read Daredevil? All blind people are like that. Ha, just kidding there buddy," he said as he took another swig and mumbles, "That never gets old."
All of these questions ran through my mind; How did he know if they were the right bills he was getting back? Did he really have Daredevil-like powers or was it just blind luck? Why was he drinking and driving? Why am I drinking and driving?
And then it dawned on me. I wasn't drinking and driving. I was laying, passed out in a trunk of a car pissing my pants. I must have had one too many shots and dared someone that I could sit in the trunk of a car. I don't remember now. I don't even remember how I got here. I don't even remember having to piss, but these are things that I don't ask the questions too because I'm still trying to figure out why there is Braille on the drive through ATM's.
"Hey can you see where the ATM is, I'm a little blind?" in a very condescending voice.
To which I could only reply,
"Yeah, it's to the left of you."
"Oh hey...thanks there buddy," he said as he took a swig from a forty of Mickey's he had in his other hand.
I wasn't sure what was going on but I knew something was up. I knew a chance like this would never happen again so I yelled over to the guy.
"I don't mean to be rude or anything, but it appears that you are blind...and drunk."
"Yeah, isn't it great?"
"Well if you don't mind me asking, how do you know where to go? I mean, how can you drive?"
"Did you ever read Daredevil? All blind people are like that. Ha, just kidding there buddy," he said as he took another swig and mumbles, "That never gets old."
All of these questions ran through my mind; How did he know if they were the right bills he was getting back? Did he really have Daredevil-like powers or was it just blind luck? Why was he drinking and driving? Why am I drinking and driving?
And then it dawned on me. I wasn't drinking and driving. I was laying, passed out in a trunk of a car pissing my pants. I must have had one too many shots and dared someone that I could sit in the trunk of a car. I don't remember now. I don't even remember how I got here. I don't even remember having to piss, but these are things that I don't ask the questions too because I'm still trying to figure out why there is Braille on the drive through ATM's.
Banana Split Anyone?
My brain is sweating right now. I mean, inside...it's sweating. I need Gatorade for my brain. Why do you ask? I'm trying to write. It's not coming out right. I got the late night going on. I got Gwen whispering, "The shit is bananas. B, A, N, A, N, A, S."
I'm trying Gwen. I guess I just don't understand what you are trying to tell me. I really am trying to figure it out. I know you can slip on banana peels. You can also cut them up and put them in Cheerios. But what the fuck is your shit being like bananas mean? That's almost as bad as the time when I was hanging out on the North side of Kalamazoo and these two white girls came up to the porch we were hanging out at and started calling us, "fruit." Is fruit coming back as a "hip" word? Is fruit good or bad? Man I'm so out of the loop and my TRL isn't helping me at all, it's only encouraging it. Someone help me please?
"I got my orange all up in your kiwi. Back the fuck up or I'll slap you with my pineapple. I AM THE SHIT! I AM THE GRAPE!"
Does this make me hip and cool now? Because all it's really doing is making me hungry and not only am I hungry for fruit...but for knowledge. Delicious.
I'm trying Gwen. I guess I just don't understand what you are trying to tell me. I really am trying to figure it out. I know you can slip on banana peels. You can also cut them up and put them in Cheerios. But what the fuck is your shit being like bananas mean? That's almost as bad as the time when I was hanging out on the North side of Kalamazoo and these two white girls came up to the porch we were hanging out at and started calling us, "fruit." Is fruit coming back as a "hip" word? Is fruit good or bad? Man I'm so out of the loop and my TRL isn't helping me at all, it's only encouraging it. Someone help me please?
"I got my orange all up in your kiwi. Back the fuck up or I'll slap you with my pineapple. I AM THE SHIT! I AM THE GRAPE!"
Does this make me hip and cool now? Because all it's really doing is making me hungry and not only am I hungry for fruit...but for knowledge. Delicious.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
I Give Myself (10-13-97)
My heart to a boxer because it is always getting some sort of beating My chest to Pandora My knuckles to a sandwich My eyes to a blind man My bones to an old dog to chew on My smile to a dark room My personality to a magician because now you see it, now you don't My stomach to an ulcer so it will have a place to live My heels to Achilles My ears to Van Gogh My hands to a sinner, these hands have sinned at least once a day My blood to a vegetarian My back to you My flesh to the father, the son and the Holy Ghost My spine to a jelly fish My mouth to a black hole My tongue to taste My arms to a newborn baby to cradle in My mind to my money and my money to my mind My nose, nails and any left over parts to bologna My body to the ground which made me
Trouble, Oh No Trouble Writing a Catchy Tune
Even though Cat Stevens was denied access into the United States a couple of months ago and he is on the F.B.I.'s "to watch" list(http://www.blogsofwar.com/archives/2004/09/21/cat-stevens-denied-entry-to-us/) it doesn't mean that he doesn't mean that he couldn't write a fantastic song back in the day.
That's the beauty of writing a song, or a movie, or even a child's book. You can be fucking crazy, high on drugs or straight edge. All that matters is that when a reader reads something, or hears it or feels it, he/she can relate. It's that connection, that special bond that the artist makes with his or her audience.
I know I've gotten sidetracked from my normal rants and raves, but for the moment I'm in right now, at one thirty five in the morning on a wednesday, listening to Sheryl Crow's "I Shall Believe," I feel that it is important to continue passing on the good word. Keep it up my children and fight the power.
Trouble
Trouble oh trouble set me free
I have seen your face
And it's too much for me
Trouble oh trouble can't you see
You're eating my heart away
And there's nothing left of me
I've drunk your wine
You have made your world mine
So won't you be fair
So won't you be fair
I don't want no more of you
So won't you be kind to me
Just let me go where
I have to go there
Trouble oh trouble move away
I have seen your face
And it's too much for me today
Trouble oh trouble can't you see
You have made me a wreck
Now won't you leave me in my misery
I have seen you eyes
And I can see death's disguise
Hanging on me
Hanging on me
I'm beat I'm torn
Shattered and tossed and worn
Too shocking to see
Too shocking to see
Trouble oh trouble move from me
I have paid my debt now
Won't you leave me in my misery
Trouble oh trouble please be kind
Don't wan't no fight
And I haven't got a lot of time
That's the beauty of writing a song, or a movie, or even a child's book. You can be fucking crazy, high on drugs or straight edge. All that matters is that when a reader reads something, or hears it or feels it, he/she can relate. It's that connection, that special bond that the artist makes with his or her audience.
I know I've gotten sidetracked from my normal rants and raves, but for the moment I'm in right now, at one thirty five in the morning on a wednesday, listening to Sheryl Crow's "I Shall Believe," I feel that it is important to continue passing on the good word. Keep it up my children and fight the power.
Trouble
Trouble oh trouble set me free
I have seen your face
And it's too much for me
Trouble oh trouble can't you see
You're eating my heart away
And there's nothing left of me
I've drunk your wine
You have made your world mine
So won't you be fair
So won't you be fair
I don't want no more of you
So won't you be kind to me
Just let me go where
I have to go there
Trouble oh trouble move away
I have seen your face
And it's too much for me today
Trouble oh trouble can't you see
You have made me a wreck
Now won't you leave me in my misery
I have seen you eyes
And I can see death's disguise
Hanging on me
Hanging on me
I'm beat I'm torn
Shattered and tossed and worn
Too shocking to see
Too shocking to see
Trouble oh trouble move from me
I have paid my debt now
Won't you leave me in my misery
Trouble oh trouble please be kind
Don't wan't no fight
And I haven't got a lot of time
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
Finding Yourself From the Past
You know in a way it's been hard for me to find inspiration to write. Some say wait for the moment and when it comes, pour your soul out. Others say that you should always write. At least when you are writing, you have things to fall back on. To correct. To make better.
I...I find myself somewhere in the middle. A limbo of both views. It wasn't until recently, when one of my oldest friends, after a span of fives years of not talking with each other found ourselves on the same path again. And it wasn't that we got in a fight, or that we stopped finding things in common to talk about, it was just one of those instances where we both walked in complete opposite directions. Many years of us just doing our own thing.
And then out of nowhere, Dave's sister missed her flight from San Diego to Kalamazoo and ended up in my backyard called Las Vegas. From there I had his number and swore to call him that week and three months later, I did. And with that phone call, I found something clicking in my brain again.
With anything, a strong foundation is what will make or break whatever you are building. In my case, I only had part of my foundation built, that being my friend Nate. Through thick and thin, through good times and bullshit, Nate and myself have always been there for each other, whether we liked it or not. A bond of brothers. But as I started to build, it seemed that my building always leaned to the left. It wasn't quite centered. This of course was always something that ate at me.
Others always considered myself as a writer but I wasn't buying into the hype. I had always thought that it was something I was decent at. Putting letters to form words. Putting words to form sentences. Putting sentences together to form paragraphs. Until eventually I had a story.
It wasn't until I started talking to Dave that we came to the subject of they type of writers we were many years ago. He gave me a compliment saying that I still had the same voice and that he seemed to have lost his. That he didn't write as good as he once did, but this where he was wrong. In those sentences he wrote to me, I saw the Dave that I grew up. The Dave that pushed me to be a good writer. That gave me back something that I had been missing. And with our friendship, along with Nate, I find myself builing to the heaven's above. Beyond the sun, to places that have yet to be discovered. And I will keep on building and building and building until my hands start to bleed because I know I have the friends to pick me up and put that pen back into my hand.
I...I find myself somewhere in the middle. A limbo of both views. It wasn't until recently, when one of my oldest friends, after a span of fives years of not talking with each other found ourselves on the same path again. And it wasn't that we got in a fight, or that we stopped finding things in common to talk about, it was just one of those instances where we both walked in complete opposite directions. Many years of us just doing our own thing.
And then out of nowhere, Dave's sister missed her flight from San Diego to Kalamazoo and ended up in my backyard called Las Vegas. From there I had his number and swore to call him that week and three months later, I did. And with that phone call, I found something clicking in my brain again.
With anything, a strong foundation is what will make or break whatever you are building. In my case, I only had part of my foundation built, that being my friend Nate. Through thick and thin, through good times and bullshit, Nate and myself have always been there for each other, whether we liked it or not. A bond of brothers. But as I started to build, it seemed that my building always leaned to the left. It wasn't quite centered. This of course was always something that ate at me.
Others always considered myself as a writer but I wasn't buying into the hype. I had always thought that it was something I was decent at. Putting letters to form words. Putting words to form sentences. Putting sentences together to form paragraphs. Until eventually I had a story.
It wasn't until I started talking to Dave that we came to the subject of they type of writers we were many years ago. He gave me a compliment saying that I still had the same voice and that he seemed to have lost his. That he didn't write as good as he once did, but this where he was wrong. In those sentences he wrote to me, I saw the Dave that I grew up. The Dave that pushed me to be a good writer. That gave me back something that I had been missing. And with our friendship, along with Nate, I find myself builing to the heaven's above. Beyond the sun, to places that have yet to be discovered. And I will keep on building and building and building until my hands start to bleed because I know I have the friends to pick me up and put that pen back into my hand.
Friday, April 08, 2005
Vagina Pack
Living in Las Vegas I get the courtesy of seeing many things; People passed out on the side walk at three a.m, homeless men throwing back change at people because it wasn't enough. But the one thing that I wish I didn't get to see are those damn fanny packs.
I see them on everyone. I see them on hot women, fat guys, little kids. It just won't end. And all I'm thinking to myself is, "Why are you wearing that?" In all honesty, I really don't see why they are that popular. Trust me, it's not that they look fucking stupid. I really don't see that little pouch holding a lot.
"Ok here hunny, we have our camera, our wallets, this mace, our keys, our coupon book, our sun tan lotion, our drugs, our beer, our car, our brains."
This is something that I thought would die out, like Pogs and Slammers, but it just wouldn't fade away. And then, I found something out about the word fanny. Something magical. Apparently in the United Kingdom, the word fanny is another word for Vagina. All of these years, we've been calling these things Vagina Packs. All of these years I've found these things stupid but once I found out the TRUE meaning, I fell in love with them. How could you hate fanny? I mean, fanny is what drives all men. I mean, you can never have enough fanny...or can you?
I see them on everyone. I see them on hot women, fat guys, little kids. It just won't end. And all I'm thinking to myself is, "Why are you wearing that?" In all honesty, I really don't see why they are that popular. Trust me, it's not that they look fucking stupid. I really don't see that little pouch holding a lot.
"Ok here hunny, we have our camera, our wallets, this mace, our keys, our coupon book, our sun tan lotion, our drugs, our beer, our car, our brains."
This is something that I thought would die out, like Pogs and Slammers, but it just wouldn't fade away. And then, I found something out about the word fanny. Something magical. Apparently in the United Kingdom, the word fanny is another word for Vagina. All of these years, we've been calling these things Vagina Packs. All of these years I've found these things stupid but once I found out the TRUE meaning, I fell in love with them. How could you hate fanny? I mean, fanny is what drives all men. I mean, you can never have enough fanny...or can you?
Monday, April 04, 2005
I'll Take Two Adults and One, Two Month Old Baby Please...
I love nothing more then to go watch a movie by myself. Call me a loner, a rebel, but it's just what I like to do. There are a couple of things I don't like about going to a movie theater. The first thing I don't like is that I get there early and I will be the only person in the theater and then a couple will walks in. Out of all the seats in the theater, they decide to sit right behind me, pop corn asses and all. Not a row or two behind me...right behind me. I'm afraid that sometimes people don't feel comfortable unless they sit in groups, which is understandable. They aren't loners like me, and who wouldn't want to sit by me? I mean, come on, I reek of awesomeness.
The second thing I absolutley hate. HATE! HATE!! HATE!!! I hate when people decide it's a good idea to bring a baby to the movies. It's one thing if you have a two year old and a new born when you go see something along the lines of Shrek, cause lord knows there's going to be a ton of little kids running around and talking throughout the movie. It's expected, it's a kid's movie. What I don't like is when they bring a new born into a rated R movie. The funny thing is, they don't give a shit if the baby's crying throughout the movie. It's apparent that they don't really think much of other people or they wouldn't have brought the baby in the first place, so when it cries, why would they bring it out of the theater?
I don't understand why theater's allow this either. If it's because it would discriminating, then it's fucking stupid. It's not as if they had an immaculate consumption. They chose to make love, or fuck or whatever the kids call it these days. I don't feel bad if they've been at home for two weeks straight. Get a fucking babysitter. Put it up for adoptoin. Leave the baby in a cage. I don't care. Just don't bring it to the theater.
The second thing I absolutley hate. HATE! HATE!! HATE!!! I hate when people decide it's a good idea to bring a baby to the movies. It's one thing if you have a two year old and a new born when you go see something along the lines of Shrek, cause lord knows there's going to be a ton of little kids running around and talking throughout the movie. It's expected, it's a kid's movie. What I don't like is when they bring a new born into a rated R movie. The funny thing is, they don't give a shit if the baby's crying throughout the movie. It's apparent that they don't really think much of other people or they wouldn't have brought the baby in the first place, so when it cries, why would they bring it out of the theater?
I don't understand why theater's allow this either. If it's because it would discriminating, then it's fucking stupid. It's not as if they had an immaculate consumption. They chose to make love, or fuck or whatever the kids call it these days. I don't feel bad if they've been at home for two weeks straight. Get a fucking babysitter. Put it up for adoptoin. Leave the baby in a cage. I don't care. Just don't bring it to the theater.
Friday, April 01, 2005
I RETIRE!!!!
I am done writing. I want to thank everyone who has had a voice in my life. Who has read my stuff and has encouraged me to keep on truckin' but I am done writing after this. I have found that this has just made me feel empty inside. That I worry too much on what people think about my views and my voice that it keeps me up at night, that I can't sleep all over some stupid fucking words. So I wanted to thank you for a great couple of months and I hope you all get what you want in life. Even if it's something impossible, go for it and reach it. Thanks again. Dan.
If you believed that shit. Stop reading my blog mother fucker. April Fools.
If you believed that shit. Stop reading my blog mother fucker. April Fools.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
