Sunday, November 15, 2009

For Pamela!




I have no idea how this is going to turn out but I promised her something weird and rambling tonight, so I'll give it my best shot. Pay no attention to anything I'm about to write, it's all complete and utter nonsense I assure you my furry little friends! Just recycled jokes (recycling is good for the environment damnit!)and social commentary from the mind of a heartbroken and slightly cynical lunatic with way too much nicotine, sugar, and caffeine in his system. Just be thankful that's ALL it is this time!
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I've got the headphones blasting out the funky hip-hop beats for inspiration, and I'm enjoying yet another DELICIOUS Pepsi and Reese's flavored ice cream soda. If I keep on drinking these things I believe I really could give up the liquor. Who knows, I might even put on some weight, apparently I have to gain fifty pounds or Pam will never date me. Says her. Of all the reasons not to date me, and Satan knows there are plenty of those, it's a little bit of body mass that comes between us? Damn my metabolism! Slow Down! Ha! Like I wanna date ANYBODY anyway. Nowhere near ready for all that again. How big do I have to be for "friends with benefits" what's the weight requirements for that? I'll start eating right fucking now, I swear!
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There was a time, not so very long ago, when I could walk around inside a crowded store, and the hot high school chicks would smile at me and check me out. Now, they just kind of "keep an eye on me." Back then I was too timid to do anything, and now that I'm brimming with confidence in my boyish good looks and silly/smart charm suddenly I'm the creepy old guy? Damn, it's like you follow one girl home in your car, and you're a creepy stalker for life... Pretty soon if I want to get laid I'll have to whore myself out on Craigslist to horny retirees and terminal cancer patients looking for one last roll in the hay.
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Speaking of hay, what the FUCK am I doing out here in the boondocks, caring for farm animals and picking the last of the fall harvest from the garden? Green Acres is NOT the place to be, I don't care what the admitedly catchy song tells you. Meanwhile, back in the Bay Area, all this cool shit is going down, Burning Man parties and gatherings, concerts and plays... and I'm forced to live vicariously through friends and internet friends.
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In other news, it seems that A-1 steak sauce will make you more attractive to some women, so guys, throw out that goddamn Axe body spray! That shit always smelled funky to me anyway, although I must confess I'm guilty of using it on rare occassions, usually to cover up the smell of marijuana smoke around someone's parents or spouse. I generally prefer to just use a good antiperspirant and let my bodies natural pheremones do the work. I do have a soft spot for mens Nautica but I haven't worn any in a long time.
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But I digress. I was going to tell you the story about the shaved poodle, a pissed off upstairs neighbor, a bathtub full of cottage cheese, and a stick of dynamite, but I just don't feel up to it. Besides, I'm pretty sure the judge never lifted that gag order so I better not. Another time perhaps...
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Man, this is turning out to be harder than I thought. Usually I can fill a page with nonsense in just a matter of minutes but this has taken the better part of an hour. Granted I have been switching back and forth to YouTube after every song. I never could perform under pressure, I get as nervous as a virgin in the back seat of a car on Prom night. Maybe if I had an actual topic? Current events it is then!
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*Families urge Iran to release U.S. hikers*
"It's high time Iran put an end to this, showed compassion and let them come home," said Cindy Hickey, Shane Bauer's mother
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Yeah, that'll happen Mom! Iran didn't listen to the U.S. when we asked them to stop with the nuclear shit, but you think if YOU just ask nicely they'll let your son out of their prison? It's going to take a lot of ass kissing and probably a former president, or at least the Reverend Jesse Jackson. I'll bet Oprah could get him out!
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Alright, screw current events, there's never any good news anyway. Actually I suppose that's enough gibberish for tonight. If you're still reading this, you REALLY need some kind of hobby, stamp collecting, scrimshaw, anything! That's all folks, except for one last thing. "I know that you believe you understand what you think I said, but I'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.”
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Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow!

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