This is too cool

Okay, here is a link to a blog for the character Mark Wahlberg played in I (heart) Huckabees. I don't know who actually writes it but I found out about it on the I (heart) Huckabees dvd, so I assume it's legit.
Or as legit as the blog of a fictional character can be.

Introducing...

As per Michael Kelly, I thought I’d dig up an early attempt at fiction of my own. When I was a boy, I invented a superhero named, if I recall correctly, Powerman. Now, Powerman was somewhat unremarkable as a superhero, save his extraordinary origins, which I wrote in complete sincerity.
You see, his story begins in the future, when a man and a robot were walking along the beach together. Suddenly, they were attacked by a lion! Terrified, they fled into the ocean, only to be followed by the persistent beast. Then, (oh no!) they were attacked by a shark! So now, the man, the robot, the lion and the shark are all locked in a life or death struggle when (oh no!) they are attacked by an eagle! You’d think that would be as bad as things could get but then, the whole party is struck by lightning! The lightning strike fuses all five creatures/machines into one extraordinary person: Powerman! With the strength of a lion, swimming skills (?) of a shark, flight of an eagle and super-tough skin of a robot, he is set to… I don’t know, fight crime, presumably.
Now, seen through the lens of maturity, I will concede that there are some troubling elements in this scenario.

1)What exactly is the relationship of the man and the robot? Did the man build the robot? That would be kind of poignant; he built himself a companion. Are they just friends? What a marvelous future, where you can meet robots socially and invite them for a walk on the beach!

2)The robot. Now, at the end of the story, Powerman is blessed with armor-like skin, thanks to the robot. We can infer from this that the robot himself was super-tough. Yet, when confronted with a lion, the nigh-invulnerable robots first reaction is: "Christ! Let’s run for it!" You’d think he could deal with a lion relatively easily… Also, as a robot would his first instinct be to run into the ocean? You don’t generally think of robots as being creatures of the sea.

3)The lion. Okay, this is a future where robots are readily available, but apparently they have not found a way to stop lions from attacking you at the beach? I don’t think lions are really much of a hazard today, so I’d like to think that in the future we could have the lion-attack problem pretty much licked. Maybe, between now in the future there will be some sort of lion baby boom and our beaches will be lousy with them. That being said, wouldn’t you avoid the beach in that case? Maybe the man thought he was safe because he was with a robot, and didn’t realize that his robot was such a sniveling coward.

4)The ocean. Presumably, the man and the robot did not go deep enough to avoid the lion, which was probably not a terrific swimmer. However, they were out deep enough that a shark could swim up and join the fun. Maybe it was an unusually aquatic lion, or a very small shark.

5)The eagle. Now I don’t know a lot about eagles, but I don’t think they routinely zero in on robot/man/lion/shark melees as the ideal prey. Maybe this was a really gung-ho, balls-out kind of eagle, who just liked to fuck shit up. In that case he would prove an excellent addition to the Powerman menagerie

6)The lightning. This is just stupid.

7)The powers. Well, for one thing, I’m not sure lions are really that strong. I mean, I’m sure they are stronger than humans, but probably not by much. So Powerman is only relatively strong than other people. The contribution of the shark is also troubling, as being able to swim is also not a terrifically effective crime fighting ability. Then there is the eagle. While I never had a really clear image of what Powerman looked like, I know he was never meant to have wings. Somehow, the eagle would pass along the ability to fly sans wings; an ability the eagle itself had failed to master.

So, yes, I’ll agree there are some kinks I need to work out. This I promise you, though, in 2007 you will be lining up to see Powerman: the Movie. Hear me and obey!

Decoy

This is actually a fake post that I will post anyway because what the fuck but actually about three feet behind me two of my coworkers who are dating are having a fight and I am eavesdropping but I'm trying not to be obvious so I figure if I'm typing something I can't be eavesdropping at the same time, right? Wrong, motherfuckers! I am totally listening to you. I am listening to your fight and you cannot stop me and perhaps the workplace is not the best place for domestic quarrels, hmmmm? Hmmmmm? What do you think? Now I am going to pause and pretend to ponder what I have written.

Ha! Actually I was pausing to eavesdrop more effectively! I cannot be stopped! No door is closed to me! You will hear me and obey. Lalalalalalalaa. Gibberish. Gobberish. Booberish. Boobs. Eavesdropping! Eavesdropping!
Okay, they're gone. Thanks, internet, I needed an excuse.

Nick:1 Wine: 7

Ha! This week I have finally bested wine. On Monday I drank two bottles of wine and remained conscious. So take that, wine! You smug, pompous bastard. You think you're better than me? You think you are better than me? Fuck you! Fuck you, wine! Fuck you wine with your tastings and your sipping and your colour and your Sideways. Fuck you!
Well, okay, I was conscious. But I wasn't good conscious. Not the kind of conscious we like. It was the kind of conscious that makes us... uncomfortable. It leaves us... unsettled.
So yeah, fuck you wine. Except Australian wines, which have amusing names like Wally's Hut, or Little Penguin.

An amusement skeleton

I just found this link on blacktable. It's all these weird little flash... well, not games per se. They're just kind of amusements. But they are very clever.

Found magazine

This is pretty old news, as I've known about this for a long time, as has the entire world, but FOUND magazine is pretty great. It's so funny and sad and strange, and I don't know why but it fills me with hope.

Get together

Just found this site: meetup.com.
Basically it displays various groups of people in a given area with common interests, and lets you organize meetings. O-kay. That's all well and good, but some of the groups in my area are pretty broad. VW owners? What the fuck do they talk about? "Boy, they sure are round, huh?" "Yes, they certainly are." Pug owners?
On the other hand, some of them are incredibly specific. You have the ex-jehovahs witnesses, for example, or expatriated British citizens.
So check it out, and see who in your area shares your interests!
Of course, actually going to one of these meetings sounds like a living hell, to me.

I am aware I post under a pseudonym

Tonight I might be meeting an acquaintance at a club. I don't like clubs, and normally I would decline this invitation, but apparently this acquaintance has a friend nicknamed "Night Train." I don't know why, but I'm very excited at the prospect of meeting someone called "Night Train." I have no expectations for the man himself, I just want to shake his hand and say: "Nice to meet you, Night Train."
God, how does someone even get a nickname like "Night Train"? I mean, I could just start calling myself "Night Train," but I guarantee you my friends would never use it. What kind of person can say "My name is Night Train," and everyone is like: "Yeah, I could see that. He seems like a Night Train."
Hmm. Maybe I am curious about the actual dude...

Pet peeves

I'm in a cantankerous mood today, so here goes.
1: People who stand in front of doors.
It's a fucking door. Of course people are going to walk through the door, that's what they're for. Don't give people a dirty look for bumping into you. You are standing in front of a door, you rotten bastards.
2: People ignoring their screaming children.
Although I have no children o' me own, I am aware that at some point children have to be taught that you can't always get your way. I am also aware that the only way to do it, heartbreaking though it might be, is to ignore their tantrums. What I am not entirely certain about, though, is that the best place to do this is in fucking public. When people walk by you they are not thinking "My! What a conscientious and savvy parent this person is!" They are thinking: "Shut your kid up, asshole." You rotten bastards.
3: People who stand on stairs.
See #1, but exchange "stairs" for "door".
Oh, and exchange "walk through" with "walk up." Or I guess "walk down."
Then it should work. You rotten bastards.
4: Shoving.
God-dammit. Did you think that I just forgot I was standing in a lineup? That I just decided to stand there for no good reason? That you are somehow helping the situation by pushing me into the back of the person in front of me? You rotten bastards.
5: Banging on the door of a public bathroom, and yelling "hurry up!"
What are you thinking? I'm all done and I'm just hanging out? Oh right, because public washrooms are so fucking pleasant, I want to spend as much time in there as possible, right? Right? You rotten bastards.
6: Lounging at the bar when there is a crowd behind you.
My God, you're just so stylish, aren't you? You've bought your drink and now it's time to pose. That's right, just lean there on the bar, in repose, because God knows there aren't twenty people also trying to get drinks at the same bar who now have to squeeze into the 12 inches of bar you have allowed for them. You rotten bastards. Note: This one is related to #4.

I'm not sure if this is relevant, but I spent last night in a bar, and I walked to work today, which might explain why I felt the need to make this list. You rotten bastards.

In praise of older websites

This is mosttly for my own benefit, but i wanted to put up some links to some of my favorite pieces from mcsweeneys.

"Move over, Mr. Starchpants!"

"It means I am in hell"

"I'm Sick Of You, Wichita. I'm Sick Of You And I'm Sick Of Your Shit."

"Hey, let's cut this baby in half and see if that settles things!"

"This is one of the great torture sequences in '80s children's films"

This stuff makes me ashamed to write.

A profundity

I had a thought the other day when I saw a little toddler on the street, all bundled up against the cold. She had on a snowsuit, and scarves and mittens and big little boots and the whole thing, and she was toddling along with her arms out at right angles. It occurred to me that she looked like an astronaut, which she kind of was. She was exploring this strange new hostile alien environment, experiencing everything for the first time. And it then occurred to me that astronauts are like babies, too, swaddled up against the elements.
Pro-found.

Dutch Bradley

Alright, I'm bored. I took a recent post, and run it through an english to dutch translator a few times. Here's the original post:

"So I've been drinking a lot of wine recently. I was never much of a wine drinker, possibly a result of my vaguely catholic upbringing. I've run into a bit of a brick wall, though, as I can't seem to drink two bottles without blacking out. I know! If I drink just one bottle, well, it just doesn't do. But whenever I pop that second bottle... I'm going to lose a few hours. I think I'm making progress, though; last night I made a conscious effort to pace myself on the second bottle, and I only blacked out for about three hours. Still, it's getting to be kind of a pain in the ass.Also, wine stains! I'm a sloppy, clumsy drunk, which is normally no big deal as I drink beer or cocktails, which are easily cleaned. But fuck! My apartment is fast becoming covered in little purple splatters, like I have an infant who has yet to master drinking juice. I mean, it's bad enough all my furniture smells like beer, maybe I should switch to white... "

And here's what the dutch think:

"Thus drank I a recently wine has. I was never much of a wijndrinker, perhaps a result of my vague catholic education. I a small barge wall in the functioning has introduced, although, since the bottles of I cannot seem two without blacking of to spirits. I weet it! If I drink only one bottle, well, it does not do only. But when I that second bottle... deflagratie I will lose couple hours. I think the progress of I reach, although; previous night supplied I an aware effort on the second bottle for to have designated, and I blacked only of approximately three hours. Still, it becomes pleasantly of a pain in the rest is.Also, wine spots! I am careless, awkward drunk, which normal no large agreement as I is drink beer or the parties of the cocktail party party, which are easily cleaned. But fuck! My plain is rapidly treated in small purpere splatters, as I it has it zuigeling of whom juice for drinking still has to master. I mean, it is my meubilairfragrances such as beer badly already enough, perhaps toestel I on spatie must change concerning... "

The only phrase that survived unharmed is "But fuck!"
Also, I really must start using the phrase "I weet it!"instead of "I know!"

More Musings from Vincent Gallo

Alright, I'm in a mood. Here's more interviews with Mr. Gallo.

Here's an interview with a cycling magazine.
"Q: JFK Jr. rides.
VG: He’s an asshole, so it doesn’t even count. I can name a bunch of assholes who ride bikes."

Here's an interview at a site called IFQ.
"IFQ: Many people tell me you have great taste in music.
VG:: Who are these people? I wish people would stop talking about me behind my back."

"IFQ: In the credits of Buffalo '66 it states Chris Hanley as the producer. Can you tell me about him and why you chose not to work with him again or most of your crew from Buffalo '66?
VG: ... Chris Hanley couldn't organize the shipment of a postcard and his dreadful partner/wife is one of the most repulsive people I've ever met. But her daddy is rich. And so the Hanleys exist, feeding off the carcasses of desperate filmmakers. I shit on both of them."

Here's one at a site called EInsiders.
"EI: Since control is so important to you in all aspects of your life, who do you allow to get close to you? Who do you trust?
VG: ...I’m really the kind of guy who when I die in my apartment like an animal, no one will find me for three months until someone comes knocking on my door because they need to borrow money and eventually they find me."

From Film Freak Central.
"FFC: [Angelica Huston] was pretty vocal in her displeasure with you.
VG: ...And at some point I told her some things like, 'Listen, baby. We got your name, that's all I needed, I got my money. I'll put your wig on a fat truck driver and shoot him from the back.' And that's when we had a falling out."

This is actually interesting. Courtesy of Anne Mcnally.
"AM: When did you get into art?
VG: I had a nervous breakdown and wanted to kill myself, but I wanted to leave a legacy. I had made a cassette of twelve instrumental songs and written a dozen poems to go with them, so I decided to do twelve small paintings. I worked very hard on these pieces, and in the process I found a little sanity. When you do something with your hands, even washing dishes, it settles you down. I didn't kill myself. Instead I created a life where I always had a million things to do."

From Greencine.
"GC:It seems like people misunderstand what you do, and it seems like a lot of things you do get misperceived. With the whole sex thing, people are so suspicious about your motivations.
VG: ...There was a Belgian filmmaker who insulted me about the opening credits and at one point I just said to him, 'You know what, man? You live in a fucking country where you show up at your own pace, at your own time. A country where there's no real chaos and no real risk. Try to make a fucking movie in America and see what it's like, fucking asshole.'"

From mondofausto.
"MF: Having directed your first film, after all the other things you've done in your life, do you now think of yourself as a "filmmaker"?
VG: I’ve always thought of myself as a hustler, a control freak. Being in a movie has a certain amount of impact: it has social status, it has freedom, money, recognition, it gives me the ability to meet other people that I find interesting, it allows me to introduce myself to women easier, it gives me validation, it allows me to take revenge on my mother and father, who doubted me - I mean, that’s the real attraction."

"MF: In some of your earlier interviews you would give the names of girls you knew in high school and ask them to contact you. Have you heard from any of them?
VG: Yes I did. A lot of them came to the premiere. Somewhere in my mind I became incapable of loving or being loved without an incredible amount of fear and hate and discomfort. So the only memories I have of being excited by girls in a nice way - they were so cute, those Sweet Home girls that I went to school with, the way girls did their hair then, those halter tops, that long straight shiny hair. Girls don’t dress like that anymore. It’s not the youth - I’m not really interested in teenage girls. I just like that more simple, more natural, less Gap, mall-dressing that they started doing later on. Those girls that I liked in high school have stuck out in my mind - I’ve never gotten over those first attractions. "

"MF: Are you getting along with your family now?
VG: I had a big catharsis in writing the script, and an even bigger one making the movie. I've grown fond of all the people in my family over the years. I haven’t forgotten really about the, uh, problematic relationships I had as a child, but I’ve certainly forgiven and moved on. I’m fairly resolved in those feelings - it’s not the main point of my basic nature anymore. My identity is not Vincent Gallo the resentful, angry, distrustful person that I was when I left home. I've just become this other asshole for other reasons."

That's probably enough, for now. Obviously these quotes are all out of context. Read the interviews. He's actually pretty thoughtful and intelligent. But he's also crazy, God bless him.

Vincent Gallo is Dancing Madly

I have a quasi obsession with actor/writer/director/model/painter/lunatic Vincent Gallo. I've only seen him in a few films, and I thought his first film, Buffalo 66, was just okay, and I haven't even seen his new film, The Brown Bunny (but Christ I want to). But the man himself is out of his mind; just crazy in this gorgeous, fascinating way. Here's a link to an interview with a group of journalists about his new film. He really loses it around page 4:

"Do I have a big ego? Yes, because I think I know what’s the most beautiful. Am I difficult to work with? Yes, I’m an asshole. I’m screaming at everybody all the time. Am I controlling? Yes. Am I a narcissist? Please, I don’t even have a fucking mirror in my house. Give me a break, give me a break. Narcissist?"

Fantastic.

Redhead Part 3

(Readez-vous part un et deux, motherfucker.)
So I admit this is kind of a limp postscript to this thrilling saga, but here goes... Sure enough I ran into these girls again last night. Pretty chilly reception, the redhead more or less completely ignored me. Unsurprising, considering my behavior last time. Once again; clap...clap...clap. Braaaa-vo.
An interesting note, however, is that I finally got a good look at the redhead in the chilling light of sobriety (never a good idea). The last two times I met her I was pretty much drunk to the point of blindness (always a good idea), so afterwards I couldn't get a clear mental picture of her face. For some reason my brain transplanted the image of the daughter from Six Feet Under. Now I find that actress pretty hot, so that's part of the reason I've been kicking myself for fucking this up twice. But seen clearly, the redhead actually doesn't really look that much like the actress; my brain was just fucking with me. Admittedly, this thinking is reminiscent of "the fox and the grapes," but whatever; fuck you, you don't know me. Stop spreading lies about me.
Some more good news, though; last time I was at these girls' apartment I could have sworn I broke something as I was being hastily ushered out. I distinctly recall the sound of glass breaking. But, I brought it up last night and they insisted there was nothing broken; hell, maybe they were just trying to get rid of me.
All in all, this should be an ongoing story, as apparently these girls are planning to come back to my neighborhood pub on a regular basis, so let the awkward conversation commence! That's actually kind of a treat, as for some perverted reason I find awkwardness really, really funny. I'm a sick fuck.

A lawless wasteland

I learned from a friend and neighbor tonight that the caretakers for my apartment building have quit. Actually they apparently slunk off in the middle of the night. This isn’t really upsetting, or surprising, as these caretakers were completely useless. I’m serious; all they accomplished was jack shit. They only came on a few months ago, too, but managed to create a dazzling impression.
Every request from me resulted in the caretaker, with all due haste, doing jack shit. My favorite incident involved a notice slipped under my door that the caretaker would be checking my smoke detector Thursday night. It was very important that I be there Thursday, because Thursday is when he would come. Thursday. So Friday morning he knocks on my door; I was, of course, a wreck from the previous night. He checks my smoke detector, successfully.

He: Uh… hey, man, do you... Uh… do you have a pen I can borrow?
Me: Huh, oh yeah, I guess so. Here.
He: Oh, thanks, man, thanks! Uh… could I… could I borrow this pen? Just for like ten minutes? I’ll bring it right back!
Me: Yeah, sure, no problem.
He: Thanks, man, thanks!

Of course he didn’t come back. Four hours later I left my apartment to go run an errand or something and I spot him on the street. He gets this panicked deer-in-the-headlights look when he sees me.

He: Oh! Oh! Wait here! I’ll be right back! I’ll just grab your pen and be right back!
Me: Relax, it’s just a pen.
He: Hey, thanks, man, thanks!

That was my only pen. I needed that fucking pen. I had to go out and buy a fucking pen. What a knob; I'm not surprised a man such as he fled in the night.
Anyway, now my building is unsupervised, and it’s time for the inmates to run the asylum! Toga!

Would you like some cheese with that?

So I've been drinking a lot of wine recently. I was never much of a wine drinker, possibly a result of my vaguely catholic upbringing. I've run into a bit of a brick wall, though, as I can't seem to drink two bottles without blacking out. I know! If I drink just one bottle, well, it just doesn't do. But whenever I pop that second bottle... I'm going to lose a few hours. I think I'm making progress, though; last night I made a conscious effort to pace myself on the second bottle, and I only blacked out for about three hours. Still, it's getting to be kind of a pain in the ass.
Also, wine stains! I'm a sloppy, clumsy drunk, which is normally no big deal as I drink beer or cocktails, which are easily cleaned. But fuck! My apartment is fast becoming covered in little purple splatters, like I have an infant who has yet to master drinking juice. I mean, it's bad enough all my furniture smells like beer, maybe I should switch to white...

No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to die...

You know, I’m a huge fan of James Bond movies, primarily because of their freshness. As each movie comes out, they are always so new, so unique. "Wow, a sports car with gadgets. Never seen that before!" "Double intendres! Gosh!" "Another fucking super-villain with a goofy plan to take over the world. Wow!"
But as much fun as James Bond is, he's not really a realistic portrayal of intelligence agents, at least as I understand it. So here are a few of my as-yet unsold treatments for James Bond films with a gritty, hard-edged realism.

Tomorrow is Never Enough
This one is a real departure. Basically, at the beginning of the film, James captures a terrorist in an exciting blockbuster stunt… thing. Then he spends the next 90 minutes torturing the terrorist with genital electrodes, while calmly sipping martinis. At the end of the film, when the terrorist finally cracks, James shoots him with a silenced pistol. Then he drives a fancy car and fucks a model.

Never is Too Soon
In this one, James needs a family as cover. So he seduces a woman with three kids, and pretends to just be a regular guy. Its like James Bond meets True Lies meets… I don’t know, Mrs. Doubtfire. Then, the family finds out he is actually a secret agent, so he kills them all with a silenced pistol. Then he drives a motorcycle and fucks a model.

What Time is it There?
In this one, for some reason, James has to set fire to an orphanage and then shoot the orphans as they run out. Then he takes a helicopter and fucks a model. Then he goes back and shoots some more orphans. I admit this one is still a bit sketchy.

Forever is Coming Too Fast
In this one, James actually marries a woman in all sincerity. He settles down to domestic life, but then old enemies emerge to threaten his peaceful existence. He kills his wife with a silenced pistol, so she won’t prove a liability, then he kills his enemies in protracted, grisly ways. Then he fucks a model. A male model! Woah! Then he fucks a, y’know, lady model so people don’t get weirded out.

Eh? Eh? Pretty good, no? Yes, my finger is firmly on the pulse of… you know, society and stuff.

God's Love

So, Saturday afternoon around 4, I was on my way to meet a friend at a bar. While stopped at a corner, I noticed a group of fresh-faced youngsters with a bunch of thermos' (thermi?). One of them approached me with a styrofoam cup:

She: Would you like some hot chocolate?
Me: Uh... okay. Thanks.
She: Just so you know... we're with a mission group, and we're handing out hot chocolate to show God's love!
Me: Okay. Uh... thanks.

So, off I went to drink and gamble and defend gay marriage. Take that, Christianity!
That being said, the defense of same-sex marriage was incidental; it wasn't originally in the agenda. When I got to the bar, a friend of a friend of a friend showed up and immediately after sitting down made some derogatory remark about gay marriage. I called him on it, no big deal; it didn't come to blows or anything. But then, I went and gambled and won ten dollars, which I see as God's affirmation of my opinions. I was, after all, filled with His love. Amen.

The Lost Art of Seduction

Courtesy of a very funny man named Michael Kelly; a guide to dating.

My fellow Bloggers

So, as you know, I enjoy frequenting other blogs. It’s a great way to connect with other people, and learn something at the same time! Anyway, here are some entries from various blogs I visit that I find inspiring or uplifting:

"God, I’m so stupid. I don’t know why I bother writing anything because nobody reads it, anyway. Even if they did they would just comment to say, "You’re stupid," which I am. That’s why I don’t blame Stephanie for breaking up with me. I’m surprised she ever went out with me, at all, I’m such a loser. I smell, too, and I have that thing on my back, that growth or whatever. The cream isn’t working. I’m not even smart, or anything, I should just go away and stop bothering everyone. I’m going to start a town called Loserville, and I’ll be the mayor. Only losers will live there, and they’ll hate me too. Our main export will be loss, and our baseball team will always lose. I’m just so retarded! I suck! I really suck!"
coolmikey27, who runs the Sunshine blog

"Okay, Britney, you need to shut the fuck UP because you don’t know anything about anything and your just a HOOCH and BJ told me you have totally snowballed him and your just a LIAR so you need to get real. And Tiffany? FUCK you, Tiffany, because your so OVER and you’re such bullshit and you think your so cool but you are not cool and you should stop acting cool because it’s not cool. So fuck you and stop spreading lies about me. You too, Brandon, you totally have a small dick and everyone knows it so it’s not even a big deal that I told everyone. Your a total liar and your so WACK and everyone knows it. You are so last week. Brenda? You bitch! Fuck you and stop spreading lies about me. Everyone’s laughing at you. They are laughing at you, you cheap stupid bitch so shut up. No one believes you, ANYWAY, since you told everyone that you blew the guy who played "Chunk" in the Goonies. You are so full of shit! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! FUCK YOU!"
Amber22 at the Fuzzykitten blog.

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh! Aaaaaaaahhhhhh! Ahhh! Ahhh! I’m in hell! Aaaaaahhhhhhh! Aaaaaaahhhhh! Aaaaaahhhh! Oahhhhhhwwww! Oaaaaaaahhhhhhhh! Ahhh! Hell! Aahhhh!
Oh God! Oh God! Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! Aaaaaaaaahhhh! Ahh!"
Clifton19 at the Divorced Dad blog

"Dude! Sorry I haven’t posted in a while but I’ve been so busy fucking hotties! College is awesome! I had a totally killer weekend. I was at the bar and this fag touched my arm, so me and my bros totally beat the fuck out of him. It was awesome! He was seriously injured! He’s totally in the hospital, now. The bouncer tried to kick us out but Groenuts totally pulled a gun! That dude is so crazy! So Groenuts shot the bouncer in the leg. It was awesome! He’s in jail now, which sucks, because he is a serious bro. Whatever, dude! At least I wasn’t nailed as an accessory! Dude! Than me and Brandon went to the Tequiliria and got totally bombed! Than he totally picked up these hotties! He is the man. If I was a chick I would so fuck him. I can imagine how it would go, too. I think about it like all the time.
So I fucked this hottie and I totally came first! Woo! I am the man! I am! Then she got all bitch on me. She’s like: "will I see you again?" And I’m like: "Woah! Did we get married and I just missed it. Fuck you!" She totally started crying. It was awesome! Anyway, I just did some meth so I’ve got to go study now. Woooh! Med school!"
Curtis3546 at the Young Christian Student blog

"Hey, Mr. Bush, would you mind telling us where Osama Bin Laden is? ‘Cuz I don’t seem to see him, anywhere. How is the war on terror going? I know the war on the people of Iraq is going badly. At least the war on the truth is going well! So is the war on the youth of America! We’re killing more of them than ever! Congratulations Mr. Bush! Osama Bin Bush! When are you going to tell us the truth, Mr. Bush? When do the American people hear the truth? I guess never! I guess we’ll have to make up the truth just like you do EVERY FUCKING DAY! EVERY DAY YOU FUCKING LIAR! AAAAAAHHHHH! AAAAAAAAHHHH! AAAAAHHHH! Why did she leave me? AAAAAAAHHHHH! AAAAAHHH!"
Leon666 at the My Casual Musings Blog

Ho ho ho. Reading these blogs always makes me appreciate the rich tapestry of human experiences. Isn’t that what blogs are all about? Yes, it is.

Herb and Flois: the first date

(Flois is seated at a table in a restaurant. Herb enters, and sits)
Herb: Hi! You must be Flois.
Flois: Uh, yes. Herb?
H: Yeah. Hey you sound different than you did on the phone.
F: And you look different than your photo.
H: It’s an old photo. So, tell me...
F: You had hair in the photo.
H: Yeah, old photo. So…
F: And both eyes.
H: Oh, ha! Yeah, the patch. That is fairly recent.
F: And I think you were taller.
H: It’s been a rough year. So have you been waiting long?
F: Actually, kind of, yes. I… what is that smell?
H: Hmm? Oh, ha, yes, that’s me. I got in a fight with a dog on my way here. It got a little messy. You know how it is.
F: No, I really don’t.
H: Hmm.
(awkward silence)
F: So what do you do for a living? Your ad said a stockbroker, but that can’t…
H: No, that was a slight fabrication on my part. I actually gut fish down on the docks.
F: You gut fish? That’s actually a job?
H: More like my living hell. All day, hacking and yanking and screaming and hacking. Tearing and pulling. The smell, the blood, the handfuls of guts. It’s a nightmare.
F: Well, why don’t you quit.
H:(pause) I don’t have an answer for that.
F: O-kay. Um...
(Oh, the silence)
H: So what do you do?
F: Me? Oh, I’m a social worker.
H: Oh, social work. Okay. So, I guess you work with prostitutes?
F: Uh, sometimes, yes.
H: Well that’s one thing we have in common. Ha!
F: Heh, uh….
(waiter mercifully interrupts)
H: So, Lois…
F: Flois.
H: I’m sorry?
F: Flois. With an ‘f’.
H: Well that’s a hell of a weird name, isn’t it?
F: I… guess. My parents were kind of eccentric. They wanted me to be different.
H: Christ, my parents were the opposite. "Herb, what the hell’s wrong with you!" "Herb, straighten up you bastard!" God, I hate them so much!
F: Are you... are you okay?
H: Shut up, I’m not crying!
(endless minutes pass)
H: (wiping his eyes) So, Flois, what kind of things do you look for in a guy?
F: Uhhhh, you know, the usual, I guess. Good looking, smart, funny… I guess I’m easy to please!
H: "Good looking." Shit. Well, I’m smart. I once engaged a man in a battle of wits. And I won!
F: What?
H: It’s a long story. I am funny though. Everyone at work tells me so. Very funny. But what do those swine know? God, I hate them. So hey, two out of three.
(after an eternity, the food arrives. It is consumed in silence)
F: Excuse me for a minute.
H: Where are you going?
F: Just the ladies room.
H: You’re not going to climb out the window, are you?
F: …no.
H: Are you sure? Because I’d rather you just told me, now, rather than me waiting fifteen minutes and battering down the door.
F: I really am just going to the bathroom. In fact, you know what Herb? I am going to the bathroom and I am going to take a crap. I have been sitting here and all I can think about is just taking a huge dump. You know the feeling, Herb?
(Herb nods slowly)
F: Good, Herb. Because that’s the kind of girl I am, Herb. I take huge dumps and then I want to talk about it. So think about that while I’m gone, Herb.
(Flois leaves. Herb sits for several minutes, which stretch, predictably, on)
H: (quietly) I think I’m in love.

More Larceny!

Okay, I am just blatantly stealing this link from BA, for which I am eternally sorry. But this is quite simply some of the best comedy I have ever read. I read it at work and I was trying not to laugh too hard and I think I have seriously ruptured something.
Forgive me, BA, but it must be shared.

An uncharacteristic moment of sincerity

Sad news, today, as actor/writer/director Ossie Davis has died. My favorite role of his is "Da Mayor" from Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing; he was just wonderful. It's really too bad, but hey, he lived to a ripe old age, and he leaves a hell of a career behind him.
Here is a link to the eulogy he gave at Malcom X's funeral, which I always found lovely.
I'm sure he will receive a great ovation at this years Academy Awards; the ultimate barometer of ones success*.



*okay, that was kind of insincere.