Friday, July 15, 2005

Jesus h. Christ people REALLY want spamalot and yanks sox tickets. I mean, why can’t everyone line up for the crapperstein orchestra and the ball street bruisers? They’re just as good, promise. Serially, I’ll swap you. I’m such an ebay newbie and I’m getting the asshanders award over there. People jumpin in and jackin me for beats at a moment’s notice. If it’s you, no beef, nuff respect due, shit, I found 50 cent in a trash can, literally, and yeah, most of it’s trash, but that song 22, sheeit, remix of that game/fitty song, you know the one, with the beat you don’t like to admit that you’re diggin, and there’s like tony yayo and buck o five, or whatever those guys names on it, and game does a different verse, and I cranked it up and shot 3 rounds at the ceiling, which I’mma catch hell for when my boss gets back. FUCK I have to finish this goddamm thing. Later.

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

well then. And now to get right down to the nitty gritty. The deepest most psychological foundations of modern man, woman, child, dog, cat, all that etcetera acreage and beyond, let me tell you that it’s not all about the ovaltine, of which would be such an easy ha ha to laugh and put it off to, but no, today I am going to do the hard work and tell you the meaning of life.

Ok, no I’m not. Fuck that. I have no idea, and even if I did, you’d have to pay me at least 6 grand to even begin to go into it. Because once I got started, it would be this whole diatribe, and I’d have to know it was getting published in a very estimable or at least well read magazine or trade journal (for the psychological and/or psychotic community) and even then I’d have to think about it, you know, what delving too deep into such subject matter would or could do to my own psyche. I mean, am I ready for the answers I would unfold and thereby unfurl onto the world at large and myself in particular if I actually let my brain and soul & conscience begin to wrestle with that kind of material? The meaning of life, the whole ball of wax, and it’s relationship vis a vis our lives, deaths, afterlifes (if such a thing exists) and our karmic state of being in reference to ourselves, all those around us, animals, trees, plants, do they have souls, should we respect the dead, the living, the weak, the infirm, any more than the strong and the evil and the guileless? and then as a matter of rules of diplomatic logistic juncture, the issue requires address of whether any of these groups necessarily receive preferential treatment in the eyes of not only ourselves but our interpretation of what may or may not be God.

As you can see, no, yes, precisely, there is no way I could go any further without a check for at least 8 thousand, and I’d have to take it to my bank and have it authenticated and then brushed over with a waterproof marker to make sure that the archives could have a viable copy in case the internal revenue service came at a later date and asked me about it. It’s only common sense.

I have the worst luck when it comes to catching any type of outfit on the telephone in regards to reaching the machine and being told to wait eons and eons and, oh, shit, that was faster than expected. And thus, in light of the information gleaned therein, I must bid you a heartfelt adieu. Ok, not heartfelt, per se, but not like a “screw you goodbye” but you know, like, a “yeah, whatever, see you later,” type of an antithesis of greeting. Uh, yup, anyway. In light of my sudden inexplicable requirements of not being here, well, sit & spin? Nah, I would never suggest such unsuggestionables. Werd.



Monday, July 11, 2005

Yo. Yup, it’s all happnin. All of what? Um, not much, truth be told. Some things you should read. Um, yossarian? He’s good stuff. Also the hurting. Especially his two part long winded yet fully formed and eerily concise in light of all the pertinent information provided essay on why he hates batman. (scroll down or match up the dates, a la the calculator, one of batman’s most fearsome foes ever.)

So, in other news, yes, there is a whole lot of zero plus infinity squared going on in the quadrant. Except that, yes, I’m typing shit on a screen again and putting it in this here space, yes, for good or ill. Mainly somewhere in between, I’m guessing, with the meter edging fractionally toward the side of justice.

Me? I like batman. Nay, love. Not in the like gay sex fashion, but he’s been a nice bit of entertainment through my life. I especially liked Tim’s (the hurting) observation about the Mike Keaton batman, how he had that little sense of that he was enjoying it, batman, er, bruce wayne, not keaton. How there was this joy in being batman, despite the raw hand he’d been dealt in ref: his parents’ deaths. I always liked that about keaton’s bats too, despite the fact he didn’t fit the role ideally physically, he did nail the attitude, at least a version of the attitude. Serially, read the article. Sigh, I should prolly find the permalinks. Ok, that wasn’t too hard. Here’s part 1 & part 2. of why he hates batman. just in case you're reading this in the year 2023.

Warning: don’t click the above links and attempt to read the above referenced articles unless you are a comic dork of the degree 853 astromedallions, or unless you are really interested in every possible angle of the batman mythos, both of which categories I nestle quite comfortably into.

Alrighty then. What else is up? Oh yeah, I watched Pee Wee’s Big Adventure this weekend. If you ain’t seen it in more than 5 years, I highly recommend hitting up wherever you get videos and getting a copy and viewing it. Shit holds up phenomenally well, still hilarious. I don’t care how many theatres he jerked off in, Pee Wee was the man. Yup, and officer bird is in full agreement. Therefore it is totally & completely legitimized. Congrats on now understanding that.

Sunday, July 10, 2005

Howdy. Yo. Yup, I’m here. I haven’t, like, joined dianetics or any shit like that. And yes, I really do lift batteries on occasion, it’s not just a metaphor, if that’s what you were thinking. It’s really rather amazing how fast these words spill out once I sit & type. Not sure why I don’t do it as often as I once did. some delusion that there are some censors slash judges out there weighing whether or not my words measure up to those of the past or future or greatest & or worst writers throughout history? And then I remember, oh yeah, who gives a rat’s ass.

The funniest line in without a paddle is when burt Reynolds says he’s gonna shoot off those guys’ testicles and stuff them and put them up on his mantelpiece and the one guy, I think the shaggy from Scooby doo guy, says that that’s gonna be one ugly mantelpiece. Har har.

So, yeah, I saw fantastic four. Let’s just say that it’s entertaining. It’s not the total piece of shit that the critics would have you believe, and neither is it the second coming that the comic geeks (of which I humbly include myself at various intervals and segments of history) are trying to sell it as. And this is coming from a shareholder. Selah. Whatever that means. I really have to look it up.

I also was privy to a viewing of dark water. Pretty good. Kinda freaky. I had heard that the movie was good but the ending sucked, but I disagree, I thought the ending was pretty good. It was mildly ballsy, which is vital for a horror movie. Not that this is a prototypical horror movie, not that anything is nor should be prototypical.

Anyway, I guess that’s about it. Oh yeah, happy belated birthday xtx, for more on that, you should read tony’s dillio about it. Um, ok, now that’s about it. And, uh, yah, happy hannukkah. In like 5 months. Even though I’m not Jewish. Peace.