Kids Tip: Don’t eat pre-chewed gum you find on the ground

I was thinking about starting up a website. You know, idle hands + boredom = website. Thinking maybe have music reviews, movie reviews a weekly/bi-weekly/monthly web comic, message board and various free pornography. So, basically, a site that’s like every other site on the web, because originality died in 6785 B.C. Specifically on March 36th 6785 B.C. That’s right, they had more days per month back then. Little known fact that amuses me to make up.

It would be like a “multi-blog” where people would be free to post whatever they want, however they want, whenever they want. Provided they follow the etiquette of “proper spelling and grammar.”

Good Idea, Bad Idea?

I’m not funny anymore.

I, upon a pang of nostalgia read through my old blog that I shared from a short while with The Good Colonel. I was kinda clever and witty. Now I just cover it up by saying “fuck” a lot. Sometimes I’ve been tempted to use variations of the word “fuck” as the verbs, adjectives and even, nouns. “Fuck the fucking fuckers.” Humour has been replaced with a self-conscious vulgarity.

Oh well, ces’t la vie, non?

Parthian Collapse

I don’t think that humanity has an identity. Not one of it’s own. It has the identity of mass media, not of personality. You see individuals trying to blend into society by standing out as much as possible. What better way to be like everyone else than to be anything but yourself? Those that still have thought of their own and have the balls to speak their minds are viewed as trouble makers.

It’s shocking to have something or someone challenge your belief system [or lack thereof] and it can hit you like a sack of bricks to the gut. Personally I enjoy having any system of belief I may have the audacity to hold on to ripped apart. I may not take it well at the moment, but it always leads to me thinking things over. That’s how things should be done.

The world today is an amalgamation of lack of thought. A consistent day break for the hypnotist, like an ostrich with it’s head in the sand.

Does this mean we should take our hands off of our dicks? In the opinion of this blogger, most definitely yes.

As per requested.

Sorry Christy, no panty shots.

Tick-Tick-Tick-Tock

I sit here listening to Coldplay – A Rush of Blood to the Head, an album I haven’t listened to in ages. Which begs the question, where in the hell did Parachutes go? Who did I lend it to and how long ago? And when can I get it back? Ah well, no biggie, Coldplay is far from the Top 5 list of favourite Bands.

I was sitting outside today smoking as is my regular basis of the morning. It’s funny, the only time I go outside is to have a cigarette, or to get into another building. Stupid nature. I got to thinking about 7th grade for some reason, don’t ask why, it just popped into my head. Grade 7 was cool. I was, for a time, one of the “cool kids.” I remember now, that it was in grade 7 that I had my first taste of liquor and a cigarette. A buddy of mine had stolen some bottles from his mom [You know the ones that you find in hotel mini bars?] and a couple smokes. It was winter and we snuck to the far end of the track field and tried for what seemed forever to light the fucking cigarette.

So there we sat, smoking and chocking, while I had my first taste of Barcardi Rum. Liquid fire, how it burned, I thought my eyes were gong to pop out of my head. But we were badasses. Total heavy-fucking-metal man.

It’s funny, the next school year, I opted to no longer be a “cool kid”. I wanted to be a loser again, a nerd, the one that got picked on, because then I could be myself. I didn’t want to be a pretentious asshole even back then, so I hung around with the one most hatred kid in school for my last year of elementary school. It was fun though, I was neutral territory, got along with everyone.

I remember in grade 6, playing “Star Wars” with Peter, Neil and Chris. The cool kids that liked Star Wars. Peter broke a wooden gun over the top of my head. Good times.

Changes

Yeah. So. I. Added. Google. Ads. And? So? But? Therefore?

Anyway, if I notice that the ads are annoying, or that they are advertising things that I think are retarded, they’re gone. So if anyone ever notices anything that seems a little out of line, such as Crazy Eddies Penis Mightier’s or something to that regard, drop me a line and I’ll look into it.

Here’s my reasoning behind this; people by now have the ability to ignore ads, I personally rarely read them or pay attention. I think I’ve click maybe 3 in my life, 2 which were accidents. Also, I don’t have a job. I may make maybe 10 bucks a month on this, thus buying me one pack of cigarettes a month.

Eh?

Yup, that’s me, always thinking about the oral fixation.

OH NOES! The word “oral” may inadvertently cause some sort of oral pornography ad! I’m fine with that.

This motherfuckers drunk

First of off, I’d like to apologize for any possible spelling mistakes or gramaritical errors, because at the moment I am quite inebriated.

Tonight is the first time I’ve consumed any alcohol in copious amounts since since about, October. I’m watching SNL and it’s a repeat. Jason Bateman is hosting. He fucking rules, his sitcom Arrested Development is by far the finest show to come out in the last few years.

Anywho, I got a call from my ex’s [Pam] friend Jessica, which is odd, because I kinda had a thing for her before me and Pam began going out. But forget Pam, she couldn’t hold a conversation about anything besides drinking alcohol. Which in my current state is quite ironic. My fingers are so fat [or so they seem to me at least] that I can’t push the right keys.

This is odd, because today I helped my very good friend The Good Doctor Colonel’s sister move some things today. She’s 26 and quite, very much so, stunning. I shouldn’t be writing this because The Good Colonel will more than likely be reading this within the next few days.

She’s 26 and she’s moving to British Columbia within the next few weeks. That aside, she’s WAY the fuck out of my league. She’s a professional, she’s been to college/university.

Jesus-titty-fucking-Christ I’m gong to shut the fuck up right the fuck now.

Molson Kick is by the far the greatest invention God has ever made. It combines CAFFEINE AND ALCOHOL in the same drink. Brilliant.

Make the whore machine work: Redux

I have to agree with raine from the good blog of Thought Storm with his comments regarding anonymity online. If you’re going to disagree with someone, attach your name. Don’t slander behind a shroud. At least Angie didn’t hide.

What Mr. Anon had to say:….And this is why I am the only guy i know with a girlfriend.shut the hell up and die then you whiny bastards. if you aren’t happy and you believe you never will be then i have run out of pity for you. Get out from behind your computer screens and do something. Not ever girl is like every other girl; just like not every guy is like you.

Ok. First of all I don’t plan on shutting up. This is my outlet for whatever the fuck I feel like rambling about. You don’t like it, don’t read. Second of all, as per the laws of nature, yes, I will die at some point, thank you for giving me permission.

Whiny bastard? Yeah, I suppose I am. Your point?

I like how I got told to get out from behind my computer screen, when in reality my computer is my outlet, it’s my WORD PROCESSOR. It has this wonderful thing called a spell checker, in the rare case i make a spelling mistake. I don’t spend my time slandering [edit – sorry, if it’s written it’s ‘libel’, my bad] people across the internet, so frankly Mr. Anon, get out from behind your computer screen.

And the rest of that I already pretty much responded to that in the little comment box. Anyways, enough on that subject.

The best part is when people don’t get the point of sarcasm mixed with experience.

Make the whore machine work.

Whores. A short essay.

Going over the facts of things in the past is something I do on a regular basis in moments of boredom, which have been plentiful as of late. I haven’t dated many girls and frankly, I don’t want to date many girls. Just one would be fine. I came to realize today that 66% if not 100% of the women I’ve had relationships with have, at some point or another had sex with people behind my back.

And people wonder why misogyny is so common place in my every day to day language. I’m the sort of person that can’t have faith withoutclear and blatant evidence. Without said evidence there is no reason for me to believe in anything, because how could such things exist? If all someone sees is women that are whores, then by default they will hold women in a rather low regard in the terms of relationships. To be more specific, there could be no trust. I doubt if I will ever trust any girl I date or even possibly fall in love with in the future.

I’m not going to get fucked over again.

I had an interesting conversation with my friend Micah about this today[yesterday] and another similar topic with The Good Colonel Doctor earlier in the day, so I figured a good old blog entry would be fun to do on this subject.

It’s no that I don’t want to trust, it’s that I CAN’T trust. It’s not something that I have in me anymore. I’m fine with that. I like being alone, more time to wonder aimlessly.

I just want to know this; what the fuck is the problem with all the fucking sluts these days? Is there no honour left in these girls? Is life one big fuck fest with everyone another cock or tongue?

Fuck that, if that’s the world of today and of tomorrow, I want no part of it what-so-ever

Carpe Diem and all that Latin shit.

It’s not really the individuals that are the problem. It’s the system, however it can be argued that the system is the way it is because the individuals allow it to remind in it’s status quo. The system cannot exist without the individuals and vice versa. The individuals allow the system to remain in it’s status quo because they have become complacent with the status quo. It would be too much work to fight the system in the name of the individual which is what the system’s foundation is.

So basically that entire paragraph disproved the first sentence.