UhOh I'm In Trouble

Shit! Job hunting is depressing. I think the most depressing part is trying to find something I will actually enjoy doing. There doesn’t look to be much out there. I’ve found a few more freelance writing gigs that I’m applying for and I applied to about five places today. It would likely be more were I not just looking for things that I might actually be interested in doing. It is depressing though.

So guess who missed going to the unemployment office today because he slept too late? Wait for it... Can you guess the reason why I slept too late? It kind of sucks that she’s all an early bird and shit…I never get to say something first. I wonder if it will continue to be like this. Her spoiling my fun of being able to discuss something before she does. I know, I’ll have to drug her and then write my blog before she regains consciousness. Oh right…

So I finally got a new phone yesterday and guess who the first person I both called and texted was…go ahead…guess. Yeah, it was Trouble.

I went to the movies with my parents yesterday and saw Ninja Assassin. Not bad, it had a mass amount of blood though, and the “healing your wounds” bit was a little much for me but whatever. So after the movie I went by and got the new phone. Then I went back to the rents house and took down the Christmas decorations for them out of the attic, ate dinner, and watched some stupid fucking SyFy movie called Hammer of the Gods that featured Zachery Ty Bryan (yes, from Home Improvement) as, get this, Thor, and Daz Crawford (he played Lighthammer in Blade II).

So after the parents house I headed over to a friends and called her on my way there. Now…I sat outside in front of my friends house for 2 hours on the phone with her. I spent enough time there to realize that “Metalocalypse” and “Venture Brothers” was a rerun before I headed back to my place. When I got home we talked on the phone from 12:48am to about 6:45am. We talked about a lot. We ended the conversation…right before she went to work and I went to sleep with some rather graphic…ummmm….hey look over there, something shiny. What? Oh right. So let me explain something to you really quick.

I hate talking on the fucking phone. Hate it. Hate it with a fucking passion. Its why I text so much. In fact, before talking to her on the phone yesterday, I’d only used 200 minutes of talking time in 2 years. Yesterday, I talked to her for a total of 433 minutes. Double what I’ve talked on the phone in two years put together. And yes, I actually just looked that up on my phone and did the math.

Did I enjoy it? Yes. I never once felt like I wanted to get off the phone or that the conversation was lagging. Did I even notice how long I’d been on the phone? No, I have no clock in my room and so I never even paid attention. Do I regret it? No. Part of me does though because I wish I had let her try and sleep.

What did I learn? That we have a lot more in common then even I originally thought. That we are kind of expressing the exact same feelings about one another at this point. That I can’t wait to meet her. That I am amazed at her personality, life, and intellect. And that she has an incredibly sexy voice…like sexy, sexy. Like make my ears drool sexy.

500 Days Of Bullshit

Ok…so this blog is going to end up being about sex…maybe some thoughts on the concept of love…but first…

I cleaned house today…yeah…its ummm been awhile. However my bathroom is now nice and sparkly and my bedroom is entirely picked up, the bed is even made.

I also just finished watching two films. Nine (the animated one) and 500 Days of Summer. I really wish I had watched the latter when everyone was talking about it on Pajiba. Wait for it…you’ll see why.

Nine I liked. If not for the visual quality I liked it for the simple story line. There was nothing too overtly complex in it and overall it was just a decent film. The ending however. What the fuck is supposed to happen? Are there some humans still alive? I can see the concept of new life beginning by the rain coming but what new life is there?

500 Days of Summer…hrmmm. How did I fell about that one? Bullshit. Straight up cough syrup bullshit. Now I suppose the best way to go about this is to diagram it a little bit for you so I don’t end up writing an article that could rival the Pajiban Morton.

The Good:
---Penis shouting scene in the park. Why? Because I found it rather charming and unique. It was cute. Something I could actually see myself doing. Which isn’t to say I might not have already done this.
---Vagiant the title of the fake movie. When they go to see the movie and it says “Half Vampire-Half Giant…Vagiant“ That’s like the greatest fucking movie title…like ever.
---When he goes off at the office meeting. I liked it because who wouldn’t want to do that at their job? While this scene was also quite predictable, I felt it would have worked better if they used that Expectation/Reality thing here. I.E. what he really wanted to do and what he ended up doing. Why? Because with this fucking economy who is really just going to up and quit their job.
---Tennis ball transition into the song. I really liked that. I even went “That’s cool” out loud as I was watching it by myself.

If you can’t tell. The beginning of these sentences are my notes that I took during the film.

The Bad:
---Cliché first time having sex dance number…complete with cartoon blue bird? Really?
Really? Do I even have to describe how balls fucking shit retarded that was? Not to even mention unnecessary. Stereotypical (oh look how happy I am, I just got laid!). And just fucking…modern.
---The staring at the phone and debating to call scene. Again. Typical. What do most movies show after a breakup. Person holding the phone. Walking around debating to call. Can’t sleep. Here’s a thought. Have them fucking go to bed and then call them in the morning when they have a fresh perspective asshat.
---Punching the douche bag at the bar. Oh look, guys over there insulting you and your girl whatcha gonna do? Oh right, man up and punch him in the face. What’s gonna happen? Oh right, the little fucking hipster chick is going to get upset at you for being all manly. Pffft. Blow me.
---Spilling his guts to the hot chick on the blind date? When the fuck does that happen? Like ever? It doesn’t. No guy in their fucking right mind would ever start spilling all the shit about his ex to a girl he’s on a blind date with. He’s going to keep his mouth shut, take her to dinner, maybe a couple of drinks, and then home. Where he will cry into his fucking pillow until he passes out.
---See her after being broken up and heart broken and they go right back to talking and laughing? What? What? How many times am I going to have to mimic that outcry right there? Fuckity fuck fuck. No. No. If you see an ex that you are heartbroken over you don’t start talking to them. You turn around and walk the other fucking direction.
---Going to architecture…Forgetting Sarah Marshall. I wrote that one down because it was the first one to pop into my head but I’m sure there are others. Ohhh. Life is in the shiter? You’re tired of being miserable? Well go do that thing you always wanted to do. Damn the results or your chances!
---“I really do hope that you’re happy.” Bullshit you lying sack of crap. You hope she has like a four headed baby or her vagina rots out. You don’t want her to be happy. The fact that she is happy is only going to piss you off even more.
---Then meets the girl at the interview…and her name was Autumn?…gay. YEP, that was my note. How fucking retarded and cliché was that shit? Dumb. How about this. Guy goes to interview and gets the job. End the goddamn movie with him looking out a window in his new office buidling sketching a fucking skyline again.

The Really Good:
---Geoffrey Arend as McKenzie…I’ve liked that fucker since he did that really weird role in Garden State.
---Richard McGonagle as the narrator….His voice was just badass.
---Chloe Moretz as Tom’s sister Rachel…”Don’t be a pussy.” His sister was like the most badass youngest sister in the world. Even though they usually don’t exist. Especially at her age. It was cool.
---Last…Zooey just passed Emily to me as being the hotter Deschanel.


OK BACK TO SEX:
So I’ve always wondered if I’m too obsessed about sex. Not really obsessed. They say the average male thinks about sex every fifteen seconds. I’m more like every nine. Its not just that though. I find myself sitting at bars picturing a dick in every females mouth that I see. Wondering what their face would look like with a dick in it. If said face would actually look good looking up at you or if you should run away. When I find the good ones I think about what they would look like looking up at me…or behind at me…during sex. If they pass that muster then I think about what they would look like during sex. What actually surprises me is that I get to that point and some girls still fail. Because thoughts can run through your head on whether or not that girl ends up looking like she’d be a dead fish or if she would actually be into it. If she likes just plain old sex or if she’s willing to get a little freaky with it.

I wonder how many people have gotten to this point going what the fuck?

Don’t let this necessarily impede your judgment of me. I do have a soul. I’ve never had a one night stand. I don’t date a girl just for their looks…ok, there was that one time but she was really, really attractive. Typically when I go for a girl they have to have brains and looks. Am I a bit selfish in that department? Yes. However, I’ve also told myself I would never settle. I honestly think there are many of my friends, and some family, who are married to the person they are with for the simple fact that they didn’t think they would ever find anything better. I don’t care if I’m single the rest of my fucking life. I will refuse to settle just to settle. I would rather spend my life waiting to find that person who is right for me, then simply take the best that I can get.

That’s probably the reason why I haven’t had a relationship last longer than a year. I hit about six months (by that point you should already know most of their tics), before I go, “Can you put up with this the rest of your life. I mean that sound she makes when she first wakes up in the morning (no lie, I had a GF that would make a sound like a fucking goose every morning), can I deal with that the rest of my life?” If the answer is yes…I continue. Once it gets close to that year point I re-evaluate again. Only this time its, “Can I see this working out? Is there a future here? Or are we just wasting each others time?” I have yet to get past the second evaluation.

Most of the time my relationships work like this. I do everything and anything for them. They step on me like I’m a piece of shit. No lie. True story. I even had one girlfriend that demanded that I “treat her like a princess.”

So…love. I am always the last person to say “I love you” in a relationship. Sometimes there’s a couple of months gap. I didn’t even start telling my sister I loved her until I was around 19 and even now sometimes I don’t want to say it. That word has bitten me on the ass and fucked me over so many times…I’m pretty fucked up huh? Case in point. I actually pretty much fell for my last ex on the first date. The first week we started dating I told her I loved her on the third date and she said the same to me. That was it folks, that was it, I thought that was the one. Before you ask…yes, I am over here. Yes, it took me over a year.

Dating. Yes, as she has already stated, it appears that Trouble and I are text dating. Haha. This is a new one for me folks. I’ve never dated someone I met online. Nor have I ever dated anyone without having ever met them. Nor have I dated a woman of a delicious color. I can say this though. Despite her original thoughts we have a lot in common. She has expressed what she doesn’t like about me and I can completely understand. I do really, really want to meet her though.

Now all I have to do is find a fucking job. What am I worried about? That’s going to be super easy right?

#3 Different Seasons

It will appear a new tradition of mine to include the page number of the book. In this case Stephen King’s Different Seasons rings in at 497...at least the version I have. The book, which came out in 1983 (the year after I was born), features the tales of “Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption,” “Apt Pupil,” “The Body” (a.k.a. “Stand by Me”), and “The Breathing Method.” I read this on the plane on the way to Seattle, on the way back from Seattle, and just now at home. Typically it takes me a good half a day to read a Stephen King book, whether that be The Long Walk or The Stand. He is my favorite author, I have twenty-seven of his books and therefore I devour his books when they come out. Lately, not so much (since his accident his prose has…suffered), which is why I have Under the Dome but I haven’t cracked it open yet. However his older stuff I read with reckless abandon. I mention this to let you know that while I am a Stephen King nut, it took me awhile to get through the book. Allow me to explain.

ShinyKate, in her review of King’s The Mist, actually sums up my first complaint of this book and I’m going to give you her quote to start. “What I think spoiled it for me was having seen Darabont's film adaptation. It's usually the other way around, but this time--for me, anyway-- the book [paled] in comparison to the movie.” Most of the time, and I say that loosely because its more like all of the time, a book to film adaptation sucks ass for the sheer fact that the book is ten times better then the troglodyte version that gets put on the screen. In the case of “Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption” and “The Body” their film versions, The Shawshank Redemption done by Frank Darabont and Stand by Me done by Rob Reiner, are far superior in many ways. However, Apt Pupil, done by Bryan Singer, is the typical piece of shit compared to the book (despite the fact that a gay Jewish man played a Nazi), however I liked it before I read it. My second complaint is that he seems to stretch the stories out. Not just telling us what we don’t really need to know, but sometimes actually having a short story within the short story. In “Shawshank” it’s the continuation of Reds’ story that really isn’t necessary. In “Apt Pupil” it’s the tale of the Jewish man that recognizes Dussander in the hospital. In “Stand by Me” there are actually two literal short stories, Stud City and The Revenge of Lard Ass Hogan (which translated way better on screen because it just “fit” better then it did in the book). In “The Breathing Method” it’s really two separate stories. One should be titled The Breathing Method and the other The Club (which, by the way, would have been awesome in The Twilight Zone). So I guess I will continue to tackle this through individual stories.

“Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption”
In almost everyway this reads identical to the movie. With the exception of a few things that I think overall are important but I suppose not so much to the bigger story…then again…maybe. I won’t give them all away but I suppose a few will heighten your interest in reading it considering how close it is to the film. Spoilers: How about, for example, that Andy gets raped by the Sisters? If you remember in the movie it flat out states that the Sisters never touched him, that he always fought them off. Not one of the first times…they got him. Or, for example, the younger guy that Andy teaches and who then gets killed for knowing the truth of his Andys wife’s murder? Yeah…he doesn’t die. He gets sent to a cushier prison in exchange for not testifying about what he heard. Last but not least in this slight spoiler, Red…is white. Ha-ha./Spoilers Overall the read is wonderful. The story actually allows you to get more of a back-story on a lot of side characters in the film. It is also told from Reds perspective, which gives you a lot more about the goings on of Reds life then it does Andy. The story is Reds. He just happens to be telling you the story of Andy.

“Apt Pupil”
Ohhh sweet Jesus what a clusterfuck fest the movie was compared to the book. The only comparison? Former Nazi talks to a young boy who is interested in what happened, Nazi has a heart attack, Nazi kills himself rather then go to prison when a former concentration camp recognizes him in the hospital. Yep…for the most part that is about it. The Todd of “Apt Pupil” starts out at thirteen, not about to graduate high school (although the story follows him to that point and, granted, the Todd of Apt Pupil is still only 16). While this may not seem as a big deal look at it from this perspective. At thirteen your mind is still much more susceptible to change. You are more vulnerable to being corrupted. You’re goo. This makes for the transformation of Todd in the novella much more disturbing. In the film they try and make it that Dussander completely mindfucks Todd. In the book it begins the other way around. Now for the fun again. Spoilers: Again, I’m not going to give you a lot, for the simple fact that I really, really want you read this instead of judging the story on the movie. So lets go with the fact that by the end of the book both Todd and Dussander have become serial killers…oh yeah. Or how about that Todd doesn‘t just crush a pigeon with a basketball but repeatedly runs over its head with his bicycle…slowly? Then again there are little things. In the movie Dussander goes outside to smoke and leaves Todd in the room with French when they have their meeting. In the book French lets Dussander smoke in the room and Todd is not even on campus./SPOILER Again, not anything serious…well, other then that first one. The story does get a bit long winded at times. Note the complaint I marked awhile ago. Overall though it is a very entertaining look at the way a person can change when molded by their own environment. Especially if that environment is by choice. When the star little preppy mamma’s boy turns into a stone cold psychopath, watching that evolution is something amazing.

“The Body”
Can’t really say much. Other then a few little character changes there really isn’t much to say. Spoilers: An example would be that Teddy in the book (he was played by Corey Feldman in the film) doesn’t really have any ears and he has to use a hearing aid. His father stuck his head to a stove. Also you may remember in the movie that they take a short cut through marsh and get covered in leeches. The story version? They just went for a swim because it was hot as shit outside. /Spoilers. Like I said, no big deal. This coming of age tale had several very redeeming qualities about it though. For instance the story almost seems to have been written more of like an autobiography. The character of Gordie shares a lot of common ground with King himself. While its known that King has written himself into stories (hello the Dark Tower series) this was different. It only provided in giving the reader a more personal feel to it. Another thing that is very prevalent in this one is King’s technique of using his other books in a newer one. An example of this would be in IT when the town bully is dying on the steps of the library and Christine from Christine pulls up and drives off with him. Let us not also forget to mention Derry and Castle Rock, Maine. The one that got a chuckle out of me in “The Body” was this one, “But these dogs never attacked Milo Pressman, the dump-keeper, because Milo was never without Chopper at his heel. Chopper was-at least until Joe Camber’s dog Cujo went rabid twenty years later-the most feared and least seen dog in Castle Rock.” Ahhh, Cujo, one of the first things that I read by Stephen King.

“The Breathing Method”
I don’t really want to tell you too much about this one. It is by far one of my favorite King stories. But let me go back to what I stated before. This should really be The Breathing Method and The Club. The Club would follow an old man who goes to a club for old men, where he can find books that were never published yet were said to have been and walk around in what appears to be a small place but has an endless amount of rooms and a timeless butler. The other, The Breathing Method, is the story of a doctor who has an unwed single mother in the 1930’s as a patient. The story describes the strength this woman has against the odds. The almost love that begins to form between them. And the crazy fucked up shit that happens when the baby is born. Its King. Its some fucked up crazy shit.

In conclusion? If you love The Shawshank Redemption and Stand by Me you may not want to buy the book. However, if you’re like me and get it for $1.50, read “Apt Pupil” and “The Breathing Method” and skip the other two. Its not a great book, but it is a good one. I miss Kings old way of writing. I miss the gory detail he used to get into. I miss the fucked up crazy shit he used to write that now seems more subtle and subdued. I guess coming close to death really does change people. He is likely now afraid of death. Which is becoming more and more obvious in his work. It was good to go back to Old School King.

Seattle: Part Two

What day was my last one? Oh yeah…I just explained Monday.

Tuesday:
We went down to Pikes Place (where they toss the fish) and then down to the harbor where we took the ferry. A shit ton of fucking walking. $15 worth of parking passes. Freezing my ass off on the ferry. It was a good day.

Wednesday:
Back down to Seattle. We went to EMP/Sci-Fi Museum. I totally had a nerdgasm at the Sci-Fi Museum…I took 91 pictures there alone. EMP was alright, I was more fascinated by the statue in the middle then any of the exhibits.

On the way back from downtown Steven texts me to tell me that I will have no job when I get back. The restaurant is closing for good. Cue me going to the bar near the hotel (where I was surrounded by gay people…not that there’s anything wrong with that) and then came back and damn near drank that entire 18 pack.

Thursday:
Lazy day, looked online to check out when the times were for SIFF…found out that the two movies I wanted to see had played on Wednesday. Cue more depression. Went to my Aunts house to take my Grannie to the mall. Cue straight boredom.

Friday:
Drove all over the fucking place. Checked out Port Townsend and then drove down Highway 101 for fucking ever. I drove nearly 11 hours yesterday. Fuck did that suck. However, I did see some beautiful country.

Came back to the hotel and my cousin took me out drinking. Yesterday was a good day. Not to mention I think I flirted with Trouble the entire day. Twas fun.

Today:
Will be my Aunt’s birthday part. Tomorrow we leave for home…I have to be at the airport at 5am. FUCK. I’m also not looking forward to going home. What am I going home to?

P.S. I have determined that Washington is the ugliest state I’ve ever been in. For real. The state itself is beautiful. However, the women are not. *shudders* I’ve only seen a few I would be interested in and they were all downtown. Now, I can say that I fit in. Everywhere I go people typically stare at me. Not here. Here, I blend in.

Seattle: Part One

I was going to put off writing any updates on the trip until I got back but fuck it, why not right? So we landed at around 10pm Seattle time, which would make it 1am on the east coast. By the way, a seven hour flight fucking sucks. Really sucks. I can’t imagine now taking a flight all the way to Europe, like a fucking 14 hour flight. Screw that…I’m going to go by boat. Actually, fuck that…I’ll fly. By the time we got the rental car (a PT Cruiser hahaha), checked into the hotel, and got settled it was around 3am east coast time. Needless to say my mother passed out snoring rather loudly…I think I must have gotten to sleep around 5am ECT and was promptly woken up around 11am ECT…which would make it 8am here. Yeah…I think that’s the earliest I’ve gotten up since, well, awhile. The only times I get up early are to go fishing, other than that I’m not really a morning person.

We got to my aunts house a little while later and after chilling out there I pretty much assumed the day was going to be a bust. Everyone kept asking me what I wanted to do. Now, what I want to do on vacation is drink, a lot. Unfortunately I have to drive the car, the main reason being my mother can’t drive at night. So they kept asking and kept asking. Finally I was like, “Is there snow on the mountain?” The reply I got from my cousin was, “There is always snow on the mountain.” Cue the inner monologue…I’ve never ‘really’ seen snow. I mean, I’ve seen snow, but the snow in Georgia is nothing like it is up here. I want to see snow. So my response was, “Let’s go up the mountain.” My cousin drove because he actually has a vehicle that can handle snow and ice and away we go. Sadly the main mountain has already been closed off for the season but we were able to head up to another peak. Cue the snow. Ohhh my god…you want to talk about beautiful? That, was fucking beautiful. I know there’s a lot of you fucks who actually live in places that get a shit ton of snow. You know what I say to you? Look at it. I mean really look at it. It’s fucking beautiful. Imagine coming from a place that never sees snow, a place that has 100 degree weather 4-5 months out the year, a place where the most snow you see you have to rake up your entire goddamn yard just to make a snow man. Snow…is fucking beautiful. Why do ya’ll think I want to move up north. I love the cold…I love snow.



Anyway…needless to say that made my day. We get back to my aunts house and at first it was fantastic. I had the first home cooked meal I’ve had in a long, long, time. I typically (because I cook for a living) don’t cook for myself. Even when I do its not the same as having a home cooked meal cooked for you. My aunt made homemade macaroni and cheese, cornbread, beans, sausage, and a type of slaw. Foodgasm. No really. Foodgasm. See, even when I go to my parents house they don’t cook anymore. They are on some weird fucking diet and so there is no food in the house. When I go to my sisters the only thing she has ever made is spaghetti, again, not really a home cooked meal. That was perfect. However, after that things got really dull. My cousins aren’t around my age, in fact they are more my mother’s age, but they act my age. One of them has piercings and tattoos, they both love to drink. SO hanging with them was pretty cool, however, they left. What I found myself with was my Grannie who is 87, my Aunt who is turning 70 on Saturday, and my step-Uncle and my Mom who are both in their late 50’s. B.O.R.E.D.O.M. I watched some shit video my S-Uncle had made of my aunt singing…cringe inducing. Listened to them go on and on about shit I didn’t really want to hear. (FYI my mom is snoring louder then shit again). Generally, as my mom put it, I was starting to turn into a zombie in front of her eyes. So she asks if I’m ready to leave and I say, “If you’re ready.” We leave.

The whole time I’m there and on the way home I’m texting Trouble. She pretty much agrees with me that I need alcohol…stat. So I stop at a gas station near the hotel and go in to buy beer. True story though, let me interrupt for a second, I go into a gas station near my Aunt’s house and the attendant asks to see my ID…she sees the GA ID, can’t figure out where the date is. I point it out, she looks at me and says, “I figured you were younger then 18.” Really? Me? I know she was flirting with me, in fact, since I’ve been here I’ve had several girls flirt with me but let me tell you this. I have yet to see an attractive girl in Washington. So I go into the gas station to buy beer and I figure I’ll grab a 12 pack of Budweiser…(holy shit cigarettes are $7 here)…so I walk up to the door and I see. Twelve pack of Budweiser=$11.99...I look down Eighteen pack of Budweiser=$12.99...My brain went Durrrrr. I went, why would I pay $11.99 for a twelve pack when I can get an eighteen pack for a dollar more? So I grab the eighteen pack and point this fact out to the attendant and she says, “You’d be surprised at how many people still get the twelve pack.” What a bunch of fucking idiots.

So I’m back at the hotel, mom is snoring, and I am trying to get at least a good buzz on so I can pass out. Tomorrow (or today as the case may be) we are going to the Fish Market here. I want to see the dude’s toss the fucking fish. Plus, from what my cousins have told me there’s plenty of shit to do down there.

I’ll likely post later again in the week. Don’t want to tell you everything I’m doing. In case I have a stalker.

P.S. a stalker would be totally badass. Especially if their intent is to rape me.

P.S.S. I hope the stalker is a female. I don’t really want surprise butt sex.

Just Felt Like Talking

I wasn’t going to write tonight. Especially after the Cannonball Read review. However I just felt like talking and that review was really hard to write. Usually I don’t struggle with anything having to do with writing (except writing a fucking novel) so that kind of bothered me a bit. Then again its not a typical novel so that can explain the frustration.

I’m watching Signs. Don’t ask. I was in the mood to watch something and couldn’t figure out what I wanted to watch. As I stared at my movies I realized I hadn’t watched it in a really long time. Now that I’m watching it seeing Abigail Breslin in this and then Zombieland is pretty fucking weird.

I’ve been getting drunk. Like drunk drunk, like not remembering shit of what happened, for the past three days. I’m not drinking tonight though. The way its looking I won’t be drinking tomorrow night or Saturday either. Although I have a feeling I’ll likely drink one of those days. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t drink for several days in a row. Which also has me wondering when I’m going to be drinking in Seattle. I leave on Sunday.

WooHoo! Two more days of work and I’m out of this fucking state. Two more days of work and I’m out for an entire week bitches.

The sound on my phone suddenly stopped working last night. I have no idea why. Seeing as how it is also my alarm clock this is going to be interesting. Hopefully my wind up alarm clock that is older then me will manage to wake me up.

I also have a real journal. I’ve been neglecting to write in it. This saddens me at times and then I realize why I’m not. When I had my blog on Myspace I needed my journal. I needed it because I couldn’t say half the shit I wanted to say in that blog without having a shit storm of people in my face. I can say anything I want on this. Because with the exception of like two people no one in my “real” life know about this blog. The reason why they know is because they live away and don’t have the same friends as me. I also at one point had the thought that if I was to become famous they could publish my journals after I die. Why not huh? My Journal could also be a conquest book too I suppose. I have pictures of all my x’s in it. Nothing too bad. Ok…maybe a couple of them are bad=good. Yeah…fuck it…I thought I had deleted all the pictures and then realized I had a copy of the one I mentioned. You’re going to get that one.



Night all…

#2 A Practical Guide to Racism

So I just finished A Practical Guide to Racism and may I just say…holy shit. If you don’t have a rather twisted sense of humor like myself you will likely want to go find the author and fist rape the ever living fuck out of him. I mean shit, there were even parts in the book where I wanted to go kick the shit out of him. The book itself is what I would call a coffee table book, in fact the friend I borrowed it from had it in his bathroom…yep. At 195 pages its another on the short scale but trust me I’m going to make it up to you when I read Dianetics and Mein Kampf, which I plan on reading one right after the other so my head will implode. Anyway…I digress.

The book breaks down into several chapters. Those being: Hispanics, Jews, Whites, Indians (and Injuns), Blacks, Asians, Merpeople, Arabs, Gypsies, Sexual Races, Ancient Races, Interracial Dating, Questionable Races, The Good Ones, Crania of the Races, and a Glossary of Racial Epithets. Each one of these prior to Sexual Races has a simple format that typically does an intro to that race followed by a history, stereotypes, conclusion, and further reading (where he actually gives you other books to read. An example from the “Blacks“ section “Simpson, O.J. If I Did It. ReganBooks, 2006.”). Some of them don’t stick to this outline, “Asians” and “Hispanics” for example include a breakdown of geography. In “Blacks” there is a time-line. As well many of the funniest parts in the book come from the footnotes and illustrations. TV and movie references will make the read even better. I found that everytime I recognized a movie reference a smile would spark across my face. He also uses music a lot but I'm not very good with that one. APGtR is a fucked up book though. It is exactly what you think it is, a racist look at every race. However it’s the type of book that can make you laugh and then go Fuck…I shouldn’t be laughing should I? I don’t even know if the background on this guy Dalton is real or not. If it is, he’s one smart hateful/funny bastard. Ok its not…I just did some research (imagine that) and without going too much further I think it’s the same actor that’s in this video, Dan Bakkedahl.


At points the book will drag, for example, "As John Lennon said, '____ are the nigger of the world.'" is in every section. The first few times I laughed, then it was just plain fucking retarded. The section on "Gypsies" got old really quick. In fact, just skip that section. I don’t really know how to explain this book anymore, or review it considering really doing so would give the entire book away, so I’ve decided to give you some excerpts and let you decide for yourself.

From Whites
“CANADIANS: See appendix on Gays.”

From Indians (and Injuns)
“At the top of this social order is the Brahmin caste, which is composed of scholars and priests. India is one of the few countries in the world where smart, educated people are looked up to by their social inferiors. In America, they are forced to live on meager stipends and research grants, and claw each others’ eyes out competing for the slightest hint of job security.”

From Asians
“Japanese people do not bow in greeting out of politeness. Rather, they do it because they are eager to lean in and smell the crotch of everyone they meet. If someone bows to you, you should punch them in the top of the head, because that’s disgusting.”

From Arabs
“It is a little known fact that Arabs are made of a highly volatile compound similar to nitroglycerin. Under stressful conditions, they are liable to spontaneously combust, and their nervous constitutions cause them to do so frequently. Often in public places, like cafes and Israeli buses.”

From Ancient Races
“PERSIANS: The Persians were a race of transvestite monsters, led by a huge bald freak with swords for arms. So it’s a clear line from them to present-day Iranians.”

From Glossary of Racial Epithets
“Bar Code - A Jewish person. Because Jewish people like material things so much that they actually get product UPC symbols tattooed on their inner arms.”

Yeah…so like I said. If you have a fucked up sense of humor get this for your coffee table. If you don’t have a coffee table get this for the bathroom when you want some alone time. I was planning on reading Mein Kampf next but I think I may hold out on that one. Plus, I don’t think it will look good to be reading that on an airplane. I also think reading two books on racism in a row might make me start hating society even more than I already do.

A Dream

I dreamt of you last night. We were laying in a bed, nude, but it wasn’t a sexual dream…far from it. The light was dim, just enough to see the features on your face without the blemishes. To see the real you, you without makeup. You were curling your fingers into my hair while I traced the contours of your body with a single finger. From the base of the ear to your knee. I don’t know if we were talking. I rarely, if ever, remember conversations in dreams. However, you were smiling. That smile that can melt my heart. The light was dim. I don’t even know where the light was coming from. A desk lamp? Maybe a bathroom light? The bed was comfy. I know that. The sheets billowed around you. You looked like you were laying in a cloud. Part of your hair fell into your face and I moved it away slowly. You laughed, placing a hand on your breasts. Your skin was so soft. When you laughed your eyes lit up. The little bit of light in the room made them sparkle. I wish the dream was real. I wish that happened.

Another One About Maine

Sorry, had to do it. After reading Rusty's and The Porn Star's, among others, I couldn't help myself. I just had this on my computer after seeing it on a site one time and I thought it was rather fitting.

Fuck Them Goddamn Lights

You’re probably in for a long one, for one simple reason, it appears my asshat roomie neglected to pay the electric bill so they shut it off. So I now have to entertain myself until my computer dies. It says I have 2 hours remaining. Which, if that lasts, means it should die around the time I can potentially fall asleep. Granted, you won’t be getting this until I get a chance to actually get back on the internet, but you can feel my pain at a later date. I’m pissed at this for several reasons.

One, we both split the rent evenly…$400 for rent and water apiece.
Two, I give him an extra $100 for utilities.
Three, he has the larger room and therefore it was entrusted in him that he would pay a larger portion of the bills.
Four, he calls me to tell me the power is out and it was because he was low on funds (being out of a job). Not to mention, because I’ve worked side jobs to help cover my share yesterday, today, tomorrow, and Thursday, all I really wanted to do was come home and take a shower. When he calls me what does he say? “You might want to stay at your parents tonight.” That annoys me for the simple fact that this is “my place,” I shouldn’t have to stay at my parents.
Five, other then rent and water the only bills we split would therefore be electric and internet. We don’t have cable. He has a phone line that I don’t use so I’m not including that. That’s it.
Six, so where the fuck does my $100 go? While I realize that’s not enough to cover a usual electric bill, again, he was to take over the majority of the bills in exchange for me having a room with barely a walking path.
Seven, being “low on funds” how the fuck does he pay his car payment, motorcycle payment, student loans and still manage to leave everyday (I.e. gas in his car) and buy groceries every other day to fit his fucking diet, and pay for a gym membership? Plus, be picky about what job he takes. Fucking take a job and then find the one you want. FYI…he got a new job and started this week.

Do you see what I’m getting at? I’m really confused right now. Most weeks I go to work and come home. Why? Because I can’t afford to put gas in my car. Most weeks I have no food in the apt. Why? Because I can’t afford to go to the grocery store. Even if I did it would be cans of food for like 30 cents or Rammen noodles. I suppose I could have these things but I prefer to go out whenever I can. However, when I go out I go out for specials. When I drink at my work it’s a $1 beer. When I go to Sidelines on Sunday’s its $3 24oz Budweisers and because I know the bartender I get rang up every other one. When I go to Bullfrogz its for bring you own mug and fill it with Natty for $1 or $12 all you can drink Bud Light. Last week it cost me more to fill my car with gas then go drink at two bars.

You know what that side job is? Fucking digging up tree stumps. I’m digging up goddamn tree stumps (and building a rock wall) to make sure I have money to cover rent. Two more hours tomorrow and that’s done. Going back on Thursday so I can…what’s that? Fucking put gas in my car.

I thought I was bad with money. All things considered though, I appear to be doing well. I don’t owe anyone anything. I am not in debt. I do not own a credit card. I don’t have a car payment. I paid for every semester of school up front, in cash, with money I’d saved up working.

It appears my complaint of wanting a new job may be forced upon me. From what the rumor mill is saying the owner can’t pay the rent, in fact he didn’t pay it last month (we’ve also heard he’s been keeping all the taxes that he takes out of our paychecks). Guess he should have thought ahead before he bought a five bedroom house (for just him and his wife) or got that girlfriend. But of course we’re not hearing this from him, we heard it from the landlord…our old boss. It appears the new boss doesn’t want to tell us until I come to work one day to find the doors locked and no one home. Won’t that be fun?

Thing is…I don’t know what I want to do. I do know that I don’t want to cook. Fuck cooking. I’ve been cooking for seven years now and have hated five of those seven. I also know I’m not very good with the corporate thing. See…I hate uniforms. I hate dress codes. I hate shaving. I’m not very good at dealing with idiots. I once looked at my boss one day when he said I cooked something wrong and went, “Do I look like a fucking idiot? Do I? Is that what you’re trying to say. Let me ask you a question, do you know how to fucking cook it? Who has been doing this for seven years?” He ducked his head and walked out the door. When I worked at Ted‘s they looked at my tattoos and told me I had to keep them covered, I looked at them and went, “I‘m a fucking cook.” That job lasted all of 3 ½ months. When I worked at Walden Books they told me I had to wear khaki pants…I came in wearing khaki UFO‘s. They didn‘t like that. Then again we each had a section that we were supposed to maintain. The books were supposed to be straightened, the floor vacuumed, new books stocked, old books taken out. We were supposed to not clock off until 10:30pm. I would do all of my side work while I worked and be done by 9:30pm…what would I do? Plop in a corner and read a book. Their response, “If you‘re done with your section go and help someone else.” My response, “Why? I‘ve made sure I got done with mine quickly. Why do I need to go help some fucking slackass? No one helped me.” That job lasted 3 months. *sigh* I suppose if it comes down to it I will. I just don’t want to. Now I’m back to the original thought, I don’t know what I want to do. All I know is for once I would like to go to work somewhat happy and leave with more money in my pocket. Someone suggested I go back to bouncing. I did that from the time I was 17 to 20. Here’s why I don’t want to go back to that. Shitty hours, shitty pay. You work from like 8pm-3am and make $8 an hour. I had a friend who suggested I get a job with them…they write computer program manuals…I think I would make it four hours at that job before I got up and left. Of course, who is to say I will even find a fucking job? Like any job…literally. I also kind of feel that I would suck at a desk job. I can’t just sit at a desk and work (I don’t consider writing work…sue me), after cooking so long…and bouncing…and working at Walden…I’m used to staying on my feet. Its also likely a reason why I’m not 400lbs…of course that could be because I don’t buy food and tend to stick to a liquid diet. I’ve thought about being a Park Ranger, however, it appears you have to go to school for that. Why? I don’t know. I think it would be nice to be outside all day and carry a gun. I thought about being a firefighter, but I talked to a guy who has tried to get into the program five years in a row now and can’t get in, he’s even in better shape than me. Cop? Yeah no. Private Security? I thought about that too but I have no idea how to even go about it. Not to mention from what I hear they like to hire military and ex-military. I think I would make one hell of a bodyguard…shit, I can shoot a gun and intimidate the fuck outta people. Again, don’t know how to get into that.

This is driving me nuts not being able to get online. Ahhhhhhh!!! I feel so disconnected. Damn’t. Getting online at the end of my day is one of my highlights. Especially this week when I am working twice everyday. I like getting online and checking out Pajiba. The other blogs you fucks have posted. Facebook. IMDB. DeviantArt. It’s like my stress reliever. Now that I don’t have that…or alcohol…I’m getting really annoyed. I could check all of these on my phone, however, the battery will die and then I will have no alarm clock to get up to go to work tomorrow.

FUCK…I can’t wait to take this trip. Does anyone else have any suggestions on where I should go when I go to Washington. I can probably explore up to a couple of hours outside of Seattle. I will be able to wander off on my own occasionally so if there is anything around my age that would be awesome to. Say an age range of 25-35. I’m also on the hunt for any cool bars. While a DUI in another state would suck, I wouldn’t object to going out for a couple. The other night I drank 10 without even a buzz. I should probably slow down so my tolerance will lower. Drinking will start to get expensive.

WAIT…I totally remembered that I have my GrandPa’s alarm clock. The thing didn’t work for shit last time I tried it but fuck it, I’m going to get on Facebook on my phone. By the way, its like this old wind up alarm clock. Thus why I don’t need electricity.

My cat, Bella Morte, is staring at me…in the candlelight…it’s kind of freaking me out.

I was looking through pictures the other day of ex-girlfriends and there were a couple I wanted to post on here. I was wondering what the odds would be that they would A)Find out and B) whether or not they would be pissed. They are fantastic pictures, not distasteful. I kind of wanted ya’ll to see why my friends say, “How the fuck did you end up with her?” For some reason I tend to date women that appear outside of my social class. Not to mention I like em tiny. I don’t think I ever dated a girl over 5’ 6” now messed around with? 6’3” I’m not into the tall chicks, but she (who is now a fairly good friend), is one cool chick. It’s just weird laying in the same bed with someone and having our feet touch fully stretched out. For a few seconds I felt like I was laying in bed with a man. A man with shaved legs and large breasts, but a man none the less. She also has hair that goes down to her ass…that’s fairly feminine as well. She had a huge crush on me…I couldn’t reciprocate it, now she’s engaged. Go figure.

It’s starting to get fairly cold in this apt.

I wanted to text someone and couldn’t figure anyone who would be awake at 2am that I wouldn’t mind bothering. I suppose I could have stayed at a friends house tonight but like I said, “my place,” and I like sleeping in my own bed. I also really want another cigarette but seeing as how I’m laying in bed in my boxers, I doubt I’m gonna do that.

I’m going to quit bothering ya’ll now. Congrats to those who actually made it to the end. It appears I like to ramble when I have nothing else to do.

Update: One of our waitresses quit and she told the bosses wife everything…like…everything.

#1 Animal Rights and Pornography

Animal Rights & Pornography by J. Eric Miller

At a hundred pages long AR&P is not a record breaker by any means. It’s a collection of short stories that range from a page to a few pages, a quick read, faster paced than his other book Bloodletting and Fruits of Lebanon. When I first read this…ummmm…around five years ago, I was completely blown away. It was brutal, graphic, disgusting, I fucking loved it. On this second take I was hoping to convey that original thought to you. I can’t. I don’t know what my 21-22 year old mind was thinking. I remember discussing the book with one of my creative writing professors and he asked me what I thought of it. I told him I thought it was fucking hilarious, he gave me a look, and said he thought it was sad. I couldn’t understand him then (I guess I hadn’t grown up enough) but I can understand that perspective now. The book breaks down into the following stories. I’m also giving you this list because the book itself doesn’t have one.

Food Chain

Broken Harder

Fur Bearer

You Marry a Stripper

The Space Between Us

Ceremony

Invisible Fish

Fish

Mercy Killer II

Two Joggers

In The Pride of Lions

Prince Pusser Taren

The Motions

Rophynol

John School

Every Mother’s Son

No Angel

Exploiter

Hunger

Worms

The first story, “Food Chain,” deals with incest. Not just your normal incest though, that comes in another story. It starts with the dad fucking the daughter, then gravitates to him fucking his sons. It doesn’t stop there. It then goes to the sons fucking the daughter and the sons fucking the other sons until eventually the youngest is fucking the family pig…no really. 13 of the 20 stories are about sex in some way. Maybe it was because I was a horny 22 year old that I loved the book so much. Even though one of them is about a guy getting raped by a Chinese man (“Broken Harder”). Of course there is also the one about the guy that wishes he wouldn’t get a hard on and gets one anyways (“Prince Pusser Taren”). Maybe I liked the book because it is in your face, honest, and graphic. Maybe I don’t like it now because I know the man.

In a interview I read about the book the interviewer asks him how many of these stories happened to him…he said none. While most know this isn’t true, all writers to some degree write what they know, I don’t really feel that is the case here. Here is why. Knowing the man I know that he is a vegetarian. Several of the stories, like “Worms,” “Invisible Fish” and “Fur Bearer,” deal with animal rights. While they are told from an interesting perspective (“Fur Bearer” discusses a man who steals a one night stands fur coat because it is repulsive. “Invisible Fish” a man who abuses animals at a pet store) sometimes it seems a little preachy (hint: “Worms”). Another example is at the time I knew that not only was he getting divorced from a stripper, but he recently had a child with her (“You Marry A Stripper,” “Every Mother’s Son”). From the fact that every woman who was in my class had a crush on him to the fact that I saw him at a bar one night with a 21 year old twit it explains the over prevalence of sex (“In The Pride Of Lions” is about a guy who meets up with an old lothario friend, proves himself better, then goes to sleep with the guys wife. “John School” is about a guy who attends a lecture of recovering prostitutes, talking to men who go to prostitutes, then takes one out and proceeds to get her to show skin for money). I would also say, using “Ceremony” and “Exploiter,” that he has a problem with his father. I don’t know…I may be pulling shit out of my ass. However almost every main male character in this story, in some way, seems to be a chauvinistic, self-righteous prick, who thinks they are better then everyone else (in “Hunger” a man deems his wife too fat and therefore un-fuckable so he forces her on a diet…it ends well though). Then again maybe you are supposed to see the men as such. Maybe he is making a commentary on why he doesn’t like the “sexual” aspect of men. Perhaps the goal is to see these men that use women basically only for sex as a “what not to do.” Maybe he is disgusted at himself.

What I do know is this. With fresh eyes this collection of short stories will take your breath away. Several of them still linger with me all these years later (“Broken Harder,” “Mercy Killer II,” “Invisible Fish,” “Hunger”), and yet some of them when I reread I almost forgot just as quickly. If you don’t like brutality, sex, and an animal as people mentality, you probably won’t like this book. However, as I said at the beginning, the book is also sad. Much like the character in “Broken Harder” I can understand the need for someone to find themselves. Someone who feels lost. Someone who doesn’t feel like they belong. I think maybe that was Millers problem…he’s still trying to find where he belongs.