Happy New Year! Let’s hope this one is better than the last, shall we?

(And that my twenty-first year on this earth is better than the previous twenty…)

“Here’s to a long life and a merry one.
A quick death and an easy one.
A pretty girl and an honest one.
A cold beer—and another one!”

She carried in her every kind of thing
house, tree, telegraph pole, some say a thousand souls.
At 3am she gave Santa Paula a ring.
She was still 25 feet high
under a peaceful sky.
Because that water seeks her own,
for two more hours she would flow.
She had 19 miles more to go….

81,000 people just learned that life is shit. Maybe they already knew… they were from India, Thailand, Sri Lanka…what little they had in the first place is now destroyed.

Anyone want to step up and claim responsibility for this? Someone’s god or savior is accountable, and the class doesn’t get recess until he fesses up.

What’s so funny, Allah? Do you think natural disasters are a laughing matter? That’s detention for you, young man. Jesus, I will be speaking with your father, and he won’t be happy. Buddha, one more word out of you and you’re getting an F, mister. Thor, do you not see your name on the board?

What a great holiday. It’s built up for 2 months or so like it’s going to be the second coming of jesus himself, and everyone gets in such a great mood because of it. Then, when it finally happens, it kind of sucks. You sit around a fake tree with your dysfunctional family and A Christmas Story plays over and over again in the background on TBS while you open your presents and they open theirs. And…that’s it. It’s all one big anti-climactic mess. If you honestly believe it’s about Christ, head on over to your local Wal-Mart, or your Target, and look at the returns line.

Not that I really have a problem with that… Fuck Christ. The excitement I feel, if any, is over the memories I have from my childhood and from the fact that I get to buy my friends/loved ones presents. I get to make them happy, if only briefly. That’s all it really means to me – making someone happy. Wrapping boxes in tacky Santa wrapping paper and taping it awkardly because I don’t know how to do it properly. Spending way too much money. That does get me excited, and it happens one day out of the year, so there’s nothing wrong with that, as far as I’m concerned.

Ho ho ho, merry christmas.

How to go insane

December 21, 2004

The world is a crazy, dark, mysterious place…and yet, still incredibly uninteresting. There are those moments of intrigue, however. Yes, they’re definitely there…

I turned on the news to see what the talking heads had to say, and it was the usual. The headlines read something like: Woman strangled, baby cut from womb. More killed in Iraq, chaos erupting. Tom Cruise donates $5,000 to charity at Dairy Queen.

Tom Cruise donates $5,000 to charity at Dairy Queen.

Tom Cruise donates $5,000 to charity at Dairy Queen.

The Tom Cruise story would air through out the day. Because everyone needs to know that Tom Cruise is a nice guy. In fact, they sandwiched the Tom Cruise story in between the baby-cut-from-womb story and the casualties-in-Iraq story, three things which all American should be concerned with.

I turned the tv off and imagined Tom Cruise pulling through Dairy Queen for a sundae. Reaching into his glove box, past the L. Ron Hubbard pamphlets, he would grasp a brick of 5,000 dollars to toss to the lowely drive-thru attendant. “For the children,” he’d shout, speeding away in his Ferarri. The 35 year old mother of 5 at that Lexington, Virginia Dairy Queen would have just had her mind blown. Wide open, baby. Returning to her trailer park later that night, bottle of bourbon in hand, she would call CNN. And CNN would know what to do. They always do.

Is my brain dying? Am I not receiving enough oxygen? I went to the computer hoping to regain my sanity and to read the news for myself, but of course, the computer has the internet, and the internet knows nothing about sanity. The internet introduced me to Jingle Cats.

That’s what this is about. Jingle Cats. Here. Jingle Cats and Dogs. Look, go ahead. Don’t be bashful. I promise it’s safe. Have a listen. Think about it for a while. Think about it until the blood pours from your nose. Listen closely, and to several songs. They’re cats and they’re meowing to Christmas music. Bad Christmas music. Strange elevator-music beats and wandering electronic bass lines. Listen. Don’t forget to breathe. Keep listening. Meow meow meow! Meow meow meow! Meow meow meow, meow meow! Bark bark bark! Bark bark bark! Bark bark bark, bark bark!

It’s genius. That’s what I told myself. It’s truly genius.
And I am a broken man.

Have they no shame?

December 17, 2004

I’m getting spam in my comments. I would normally accept any form of interaction with anyone on my site because it makes me feel sort of good, and wanted — but this is pushing it. Some how I feel even worse knowing that out of the handful of people that visit here, half of them are spammers who are only interested in quoting random and generic phrases like “It is true that liberty is precious – so precious that it must be rationed!” along with their url’s.

For instance, here’s one (scroll down) and here’s another. I took it upon myself to edit them, but god, it’s annoying. An email notification pops up saying I’ve received another comment on one of my lonely posts and so I get kind of excited (don’t judge me) and I go to check it only to find that I’ve been spammed. I’ve got enough of that shit in my email account, I don’t need it here too. All I can say for these guys is that at least they took the time to insert a quote along with their spam. A new breed – the intellectual spammer! I guess you could say that’s one small step in the right direction.

The point in all of this, other than to bitch, is to say that since there’s like 2 of you that actually comment, I’m turning on TypeKey. You have to be registered to post. It takes 2 seconds, so do it, assholes. It’s already implemented, just click the link when you go to post and sign up and blah blah blah.

I don’t really care abotu Wesley Snipes or even Blade trinity, but:

Wesley Snipes alienated everyone on new movie Blade: Trinity, because he spent the entire shoot in-character. Snipes, who reprises his role as vampire-slayer Blade in the second action sequel, is a method actor and insisted on continuing on-screen relationships with co-stars when filming ends. Castmember Ryan Reynolds recently complained Snipes was stand-offish and co-star Jessica Biel agrees. She says, “It’s weird to see him in the morning and not quite know what to say. I get a little response. Does he hate me? Is he p**sed at me? There’s a bunch of questions that go through your head at first.”

I think that’s just plain awesome.

“Hey Wesley, want a cup of coffee? By the way, I’m going out to some clubs tonight, you’re invited if you want to come.”
“Only when the undead are cleansed from this earth will I even consider recreational activity.”
“Still on with the vampire stuff? It’s getting kind of old, man.”
“When they’re sucking the blood from your neck, will it be old? Tell me that.”
“Jesus. Nevermind.”

Sampling music is good

December 6, 2004

I recently “borrowed” (as Sam would put it) quite a few of the albums on Pitchfork’s top 20 of 2000 list. If you don’t know Pitchfork, well, they’ve been known to write album reviews that contain a lot of pretentious, incoherent crap. They like to think of themselves as the “gods of indie music knowledge.” Their recommendations and write-ups are gifts to you. You are to accept them and ask kindly for more. In other words, they seem to find really inventive ways of saying “This is good,” while patting themselves on the back, and a lot of the time it’s just dumb.

On the rare occasion, they can be useful by pointing out albums that you haven’t heard of yet, thus broadening your horizons. But that doesn’t happen often and so I don’t visit their website anymore. I’d rather find out who I like on my own. When I saw some of the albums they hand picked, though, I couldn’t pass up the chance. So I downloaded a few and listened.

I figured right – a lot of it wasn’t very good. For instance, there’s a band called “Two Lone Swordsmen” and they have an album called “Tiny Reminders”. This album blows. Wait, that’s not fair. It blows when you’re comparing it to many of the other decent albums that came out in 2000. But I guess it was just so damn obscure and so new that they HAD to put it on there to score some of those indie points (which were probably redeemed for trucker hats and wristbands). I can’t think of any other reason, really. These people are paid to keep up with what’s good and what’s not and they kind of suck at it. Ah well, it’s been said there’s no accounting for taste. Maybe that’s true.

I’d just like to say that I’m happy the internet offers free downloading of music (obligational “Fuck You, RIAA”). If I actually listened to the guys at Pitchfork, or if I watched the Billboard charts, I’d probably be buying lots of bad, bad music for way too much money. So, thank you internet.

Make it stop

December 3, 2004

I do not like my job. The only bright side to it at this point is that at least I’m active and not sitting at home. When I do get home, my ears hurt from the dishes being slammed, my back hurts, and well, lots of things hurt. But what hurts the most is my mind after being forced to listen to Z-96, TODAY’S HOTTEST MUSIC! all day long. If I didn’t already know what Chinese water torture was I’d probably take a wild guess and point to my corner of the dishroom. Water, crappy music, pain. Sounds about right.

Our speaker/broadcast system can be heard through out the entire kitchen area, and it’s used to play the radio. I would really appreciate that, except that they have to play the aforementioned station which, as I’ve come to learn, is absolutely, gut-wrenchingly, HORRIBLE. I am convinced that this station has only 15 cds which they play continuously, and I am determined to make them pay in blood for that.

Scrub scrub scrub. Spray spray spray. Lift lift lift.

Beauty queen, blah blah blah blah blah, I want to make you feel beautifl! Stand in the rain I’m a huge douchebag! Blah blah blah blah blah! And she wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiill be looooved!

Let’s get it startead, ha, let’s get it started. YEAH.
Ha let’s get it started in here!

You were everything, everything that I wanted!

When it gets cold outside and I’ve got nobody to love! Is there anyone out there? Cause it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. Is there anyone out there? Cause it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. Is there anyone out there? Cause it’s getting harder and harder to breathe.


No one could possibly want to listen to those same songs over and over again, could they? It just makes no sense at all. How many times can you listen to the same song? How many times?! And why?! Christ, lord…save us all