Honestly, I've never felt so unwanted in my life. I'm putting this here instead of in a letter because I know you'll just get all defensive and mad and so on, but it really feels like you don't want anything to do with me, and that I'm completely wasting my time here. So I'll put it all in your court. And when I don't hear back from you, then I'll get on with just doing all this for myself, and stop worrying about someone who only seems to want me around to resent me. Seems fair to me.

So here's where it stands. I'm doing ok I suppose. Work is unpleasant occasionally, but good most of the time. I get tired of picking up people's slack, and even more tired of when that results in something being done improperly and me catching shit for simply trying to do something someone else should be doing in the first place. It's a good enough job, but I'd rather get paid less to do something boring in a place where everyone at least respects eachother than work in a place dealing with my interests for a great wage where it's every man for himself. Lisa and I are pretty officially over. She's flipflopped between wanting to be with me and wanting me to fuck off for a long while. A few days back she made it pretty obvious that things were done, so I've decided to fuck off pretty permanently. I bear her no ill will, but I have no desire to be around her anymore. Hope things work out for her. I'm presently dating a wonderful, loving girl who I don't really want to be with. She puts a ton of effort into our relationship, is stupidly in love with me, and has no concept of how to date someone. On one hand, it could be something good, but on the other hand, I just don't want to date right now. I'd really be alot happier just being alone. Besides, big amounts of effort usually imply a depression or some other issue, and I can see that peeking out already. I really don't know what to do about anything involving this stuff right now. It just makes me depressed and emo. So I simply go to work and pretend that things are cool on this front. My van still runs ok. It's kinda falling apart because it's a piece of junk, but it gets me around and I've taken it places no van should ever go. Hell, I've taken it places I'd be scared to get a quad into. Not much else is really new. Life is pretty unexciting and mostly a swirl of vodka and sleep deprivation. It works ok, but leaves me with few interesting stories.

None needed

I don't have a computer anymore. Lost it in the divorice, so to speak. Been sick lately. Sucks. Coughing up blood-filled green shit is not a hobby I enjoy. If this is what dying feels like... well, actually, it's not that bad and I guess it's a good way to go. my chest doesn't even hurt anymore. Most likely, I have torn my esophogus via hard coughing, and that's where the blood comes from. In theory, this could be very dangerous as it could rupture. But that said, I have puked, pissed, and sneezed blood, so a little cough blood in the ol' lung butter is just something to round it all out nicely. And that said too, if it does turn out I'm seriously ill and die in my sleep, I'm really sorry for doing it in this other person's bed. I notice you still read this, so yeah, sorry. Hope your cats don't eat me.

Oh, but I do know you that well.

So fuck off with your justification. Serious, you just piss me off that much more. Yes, sure, I do not know "you" that well. I do not know "you" at all. But knowing how someone will act, and why they will act the way they do are two completely different things. And really, for the most part, it's only the actions that anyone including myself actually give a fuck about. So yeah, give it up already. Just because I'm too polite to point out that you're not incredibly hard to be around doesn't mean that it's not true. The fact that I can be pretty fucking hard to be around doesn't change things. I at least realize and admit it, and know how to fucking shut off and be more pleasant when need be. Christ, life annoys me. I don't think I can really do this much longer.

I'll give you everything I have if you can guess what I've been up to lately. Really. I'd even throw in a comment about how massively impressed I am. The songs in this one don't really flow into eachother too nicely. Oh well. Anyway. Update yer shit. It's been forever.

I haven't had a whole lot to blog about lately, and am a little disenchanted with the internet to be honest.

I'm working at the gun store now. Selling guns is much easier than selling books, because everyone who walks in either

A) Have no idea what they want, and need you to pick a gun for them.

or

B) Knows exactly whay they want and just need you to hand it to them.

Books, on the other hand, do not conform to this nice little way of doing things. Everyone who comes in the bookstore is either

A) Looking for something no bookstore on the planet carries and which is exceedingly hard to get ahold of,

B) Isn't actually planning on buying anything and just want to come scan our books for their Kindle,

or

C) Wants "A blue colored book published sometime in the 80s, and the authors name starts with a letter in the english alphabet, though I don't remember their full name, what the book is called, what it's about, or even what's on the cover besides it being blue, or maybe red".

Of course, there are a few downsides to the gun store (a particular co-worker comes to mind, and it's alot harder of a job occasionally - I never had to run thousands of rifle cases up a long flight of stairs at the bookstore, for example), but my bosses are really nice people, and I'm being paid what can only be called "stupidly well" (let's just say I make more than alot of people who live in camps). So I can't complain too much.

There's not a whole lot else new, really.

I would like to help you out, really. It's not like I can't or really don't want to sell stuff to you, though I honestly wasn't intending to.

More than anything, I'm pretty convince of this: We aren't actually that close of friends. We're more like a perpetual, tighly-knit buisness relationship based on my constant possesion of things that you want, and you're just a really, really savvy buisnessman.

There's really no resentment in this, because it's not like other people don't do this, or that I never have. It's simply the reality. I am who I am, and the people I've chosen to associate with were, well, my choice.

So, anyway, if you think I'm holding out on you, you're right, but it's nothing personal (though to be honest, I'm not giving you shit on credit). I'm just curious to see if you ever bother to get in touch when I don't have something you need. Once that is established, I'll be happy to deal with you either way.

I don't know how the hell I did this without dying of exhaustion back in the day.

Been out alot with Sophie and Alex over the last few days. Sophie has basically just replaced Lucas with someone slightly less whiney but equally grumpy in larger social situations. Alex has grown up alot, but is fundamentally the same person she was two years ago. Honestly, I was a little surprised at how much fun it was, given that I got the same job of being everyone's cab and chaperon, like always.

Of course, I didn't voulenteer, and I didn't really do a good job either, because hey, it's not my fucking job to fix everyone else's shit. That's really a blog for a different time, and a story in itself though.

Hung out with Henney till the early hours of the morning last night. I gave him a bunch of weed - He's always been a good friend and a nice guy, and we got super ripped. Twas a good time, but I couldn't move out of bed until just a few minutes ago.

Anyway, there was something else, but I don't really remember what. Expect this one to be edited later.

It's been a LONG time since I've had to get up this early.

I hung out with Sophie, her friend Gabe, and a really, really drunk Stephanie Doonan yesterday. Steph was like, incoherently drunk and rambled about all sorts of disturbing shit and I'm moderately sure Sophie's friend is a junky of some type, despite being a pretty cool guy.

Not a whole lot really changes around here, besides resturaunts and shite like that.

Oh, OH YEAH! I remember...

...THAT's why I don't really like living here at all.

It was a really mellow, enjoyable three or four days, though.

Unrelated:

Lindsay, Lisa still thinks you hate her. I told her that I don't think your boyfriend is a huge fan of me, and on top of that, I hate most of her less recent friends, so it sort of balances out. I think this actually made her feel better, which is sort of good because I'm really not in the mood for this sort of petty shit that doesn't really make much difference to me. Yay!

Also unrelated:

I'm working at the bookstore again. Yay cheap books! Yay Kris buying free lunches! Yay!


I really hope I don't have to work early today/tomorrow. Blah.

I wish to revise my last assesment. My babies weigh over a quarter pound. Yay!

LONG RAMBLING UNINTERESTING POST WITH BAD GRAMMERS YAY! (NOW WITH OLD MUSICS FROM MY CHILDHUD LULZ

START TEH BLOGS! KONG AT THE GATE! ROAR AND SHIT!


I get the feeling you never watch the videos. I don't nessicarily blame you, but I'm going to start posting more and more of them because I'm lazy and yeah.

They're all girls! Weight is about 4 ounces. There were some fertilization problems at the end (never leave your babies in the care of your girlfriend's uninterested friend for a week), so the end result is not quite what I'd hoped for, but I still saved about $400 bucks (assuming 1 oz a month at let's say the higher price of $200/oz.).

LOOK IT'S A VIDEO YAY! The only real drug problem is scoring real good drugs! That's the wrong song but whatever!


Additionally, I've had a while to de-habituate, so even if the end product is not quite what I'd hoped, I won't notice. I shall make brownies with them too, since I have some time and so on to spare.

I'm excited to do it all over again. It's like growing money. That you can light on fire. And that makes life more interesting.

Wha wha wacka wah smoked cigarettes till I went broke! Smoke a big spliff of some ok senimillia!


I've decided to grow some lovely poppies too. Because poppies are nice, and I haven't had poppy tea in forever.

And maybe some mushrooms. You know, for pizza to go with my brownies and tea.

If you know why this is here, you know what I'm talking about.



I think I'd do pretty good in life if I lived somewhere less shitty. Like Cambodia. I think I'd like living in Cambodia. Too bad it's not as simple as just shifting up a "C" in the World Factbook.

MORE VIDEO FUN TIME YAY!


Did you know that the U.S. dropped over 2.7 million tons of bombs on Cambodia during the Vietnam war, which as you might have noticed from the name wasn't supposed to have anything to do with Cambodia? For perspective, the allies dropped just over 2 million tons during world war II, including the nukes they used on Japan.

When you consider that, and that the Khmer Rouge* (led by the comically named Pol Pot) made a point to kill anyone with any sort of education, and that about %20 of the population died in the ~4 years they ran the show it's pretty remarkable that the country still exists.

I still think it's a better place to live than Canada too.

Though in Canada's defence, and on a somewhat related note, we sure made Anne Coulter look stupid.


I am tired of writing now, and I didn't have anything to write in the first place. SO yeah. Happy? Good.

SKANK, YOU UNSANITARY-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKERS, SKANK! I will probably think whatever my kids listen to is stupid, because I think most of what I listened to as a kid is stupid. And it's fan-fucking-tastic compared to half the shit out there nowadays.


*Despite their obviously being an evil regime of almost humerous proportions, the UN, under pressure from the U.S., recognized the KR as the legitmiate government until 1993, over a decade after the Vietnamese had invaded (yes, irony there, excaberated by the fact that it's the only time I'm aware of that the U.S. ever backed a Communist regime (The KR, though Vietnam was and is also Communist and the KR didn't officially make it clear they were pretending to be Communists untill 1977, two years after seizing power. Seriously.) and fought on the same side as Red China, albiet unofficially) and kicked them out. Really, if you look at the history of Cambodia, the U.S. has fucked them over time and time again, just like it's doing to most of us. But I digress.

DOO DOO E E, DOO DOO E E! I can probably still play all this shit on guitar, hah.

You're right..

..but I'm flat broke, in the middle of moving, and trying to find a new car because Lisa crashed mine. I'm just a tad busy at the moment.

The internet has been trying to get me to date lesbians for a month now. Good luck.

I find it more than a little funny that that site is "Planet Sappho".

I dunno, I think I "won".

I mean, via pure luck, I don't actually need the money THAT badly at this particular moment (though I would be flat out FUCKED had this happened a few weeks ago, or in a few weeks), and I feel much better about having to deal with these morons. On top of all that, I overreacted quite a bit in my last post (though I don't think anyone in my situation could blame me), but it's the ICBC rep who ends up looking like a dick.

So yeah, go me.

Oh, and just because her constant spamming of my main page with how hard it is to be a spoiled, upperclass socialist... uh, I mean, Poor And Downtrodden Native is really starting to fucking annoy me:



There is only one crime you could commit that would allow you to even remotely have a chance with that guy. And it involves him. And it starts with R.

And just because I haven't slept in a few days, am stoned, and in a good mood, I leave you with this, which I think is fucking brilliant.

Fuck You, ICBC customer service rep

I'm sure my angrier post will be deleted by tomorrow, since it links a petition demanding we get rid of these fascist pieces of shit.

What I don't get is why they even pretend to feel bad for us peons. I mean, for one, all it did to me personally was make me go from "I'm annoyed and would like to express it unhappy" to "I would glady execute everyone remotely connected with ICBC furious". For two, no matter how pissed off we get with them, it's not like we can void our policies and go to AllState or something.
+1 if you see the irony in this.

Lisa crashed my truck, and insurance won't give me any money for it. Really makes me wonder why I've been spending $2000+ a year for the last six or so years on their stupid policies. I encourage you to visit their page and rant about how shitty they are, or just like my post.



I'm going to be glad to move.

On a more positive note, my weed is REALLY good.

My Three Step Program to Improve You, Your Life, and Anything Else You Can Think Of.

I don't really understand "12-step programs" to combat addictions. I mean, yeah, it's great to do good and all, but you're trying to kick your habit, not nessicarily fix your life completely. And even if you were, do you really need twelve steps that basically say the same shit over and over?

This is the original AA 12-step program, copied from the wiki:


1.We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.
2.Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
3.Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
4.Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
5.Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
6.Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
7.Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
8.Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.
9.Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
10.Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.
11.Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.
12.Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

Apparently, the only way to stop drinking or doing drugs has nothing to do with actually quitting, at least according to AA, and has everything to do with converting and becoming a good little Christian, or what have you. This type of thing, plus the chips and braclets and all that other junk seem to be a little excessive to me.

I personally follow a much simpler program when I need to quit something, which I've dubbed the Much Simpler Program When I Need To Quit Something. It's also a pretty complicated and involved process, which I will detail below:

1. Quit doing drugs.

Stop doing drugs. Stop buying drugs. Stop hanging out with people whom you have nothing in common with but drugs, which will likely be most of your friends by this point. Once you've managed that, proceed to step two.


2. Continue to not do drugs.

This is the most important step in the process. Be sure to remember to not do more drugs. Though this might seem complex and confusing compared to the 12 steps, it's actually rather simple. Once you've managed to continue not doing drugs, move on to step three.



3. Die.

If you've managed to successfully complete step two, all that's really left to do is die at the end of your lifespan. Congratulations!


This highly advanced program can also be applied to other issues in your life. For example, if you have an intense disliking of gay people, the 3 step process can help you deal with the pressures of being surrounded by faggy emo kids all the time. I call this particular program The 3 Step Process To Help You Deal With The Pressures Of Being Surrounded By Faggy Emo Kids All The Time.

1. Don't be gay.

This is the first step in maintaining your cool. If you dislike homosexuals, you should make a point to insure you aren't one, or you will have to apply my three step program to your self-esteem issues first. Try to avoid situations which involve you sodomizing another man, or wearing clothes that make you feel feminine. Proceed to step two.



2. Don't worry about it.

The next step is to simply not worry about it. If you are not gay, the chances of you having to deal with a cock in your ass are pretty slim. While you might still be slightly uncomfortable around gay men, and perhaps concerned that they are constantly looking at your package or otherwise checking you out, try to remember that you (most likely) don't even have a girlfriend, and it's pretty likely most gay people find you unattractive too. If you cannot shake the feeling that dudes are constantly trying to give you a hard rogering, make sure you are not in a gay bar or other similar establishment.

3. Die.

If you've successfully completed the first two steps, insuring that you are not gay, and not being too worried about other people being gay, the odds are you have completed your life without having a todger thrust down your throat, and without having a nervous breakdown because people that are different from you exist. Congratulations!


Not only can my program deal with issues like this, but it can also lead you to success in other areas. Take, for example, my three step program to becoming a famous artist, which I like to call My Three Step Program To Becoming A Famous Artist:

1. Buy some art supplies.

As with all my programs, the first step is an intergral part of the process. Art supplies include macaroni, paints, pencils, old National Geograpics, canvases, blood, and feces. Find a supplier who can give you exactly what you want, and try to find a medium that suits you. Once you have a feel for what you'd like to do, move on to step two.

2. Make some famous art.

The most important step in becoming a famous artist is to make some famous art. This may take some brainstorming, as most famous art has already been made by already famous artists. Once you've made your incredible, mind blowing famous art, proceed to step three.



3. Die

It's common knowledge that even the best art looks like an overpriced piece of shit until the artist is dead. This step is incredibly important - it turns that shit and blood smeared picture of your ex-girlfriend from stinky-yet-creepy state's evidence into brilliant, game changing famous art. Once you've completed step three, you can finally start reaping the rewards of being a famous artist. Congratulations!


My revolutionary, groundbreaking program can also apply to things like keeping your friend Steven entertained because he's super fucking bored. Take, for example, the following program, which I like to call My Three Step Program For Keeping Your Friend Steven Entertained Because He's Super Fucking Bored:

1. Write a blog.

Writing a blog is a good way to entertain Steven, as he has very little reading material available, and reading is one of the few things that can be done repeatedly without quickly growing dull.

2. Seriously, update your fucking blog.

Reading takes Steven an average of about 30 to 60 seconds in regards to an average paper-back novel sized page. While that may not seem like much time out of a twenty four hour day, keep in mind that things like grand theft auto can occupy up to 23.9 of those hours, with the amount of actual mental stimulation required amounting to the remaining 0.1. Blogging everyday, irregardless of how uninteresting it may seem, is a vital aspect of entertaining your friend Steven.



3. Die

While it's not exactly part of the entertainment program, dying is a part of life, and you should probably accept it's inevitability before you get old and start the process (see my upcoming Three Step Program On How To Get Old And Die). In addition to being an eventuallity, it also makes for a convinent and easy third step in what would otherwise be an incomplete two step only program. And we all know two steps just aren't enough!

Sometimes I get junk emails with subjects like "Out of Work?" and things like that, and I kinda wonder if some advertising corperation isn't reading my emails and Google searches, in order to target me better for marketing.

I'm so fricken bored.

http://www.cimarron-firearms.com/BlkPowder/CA020-47Walker.htm

I really want that. Unfortunately, I have no money. Kinda sucks.

I don't really have anything else to say. Lindsay just hasn't blogged yet, so I thought I'd give her a reminder.

WHAT THE FUCK VICE CITY

THE TANK STOPS FOR DONUTS?! I SPENT HOURS TRYING TO FRONTAL ASSAULT THAT THING.

I'm happy that it was easy for once, but seriously.

..And yet...

I'd like to die for a noble cause.

" The more I learn about you, the more I realize I don't know about you."


This is why, no matter what, even if we lose contact when you move away and stuff, you will always, always be my favorite person.

I really hope that no matter what, your life turns out to be everything you've ever wanted it to be.

So, it sounds like my job offer in Dawson is indeed going to work out. I would like to thank the population of DC for being so incredibly fucking lazy that I can still get job offers there without asking around or applying for anything, and irregardless of how far away I might be at the time.

This Line-X stuff I'm supposed to be working with seems pretty cool. Apparently it does much more than just line truck boxes - it's used in everything from musical equipement to bulletproof vests.

I am excited.

What do Aha's Take On Me, and Goldeneye for the Nintendo 64 have in common?

More than you'd think. I found a pile of old cheats in one of my old notebooks, and this is the result:



I of course can't embed the music video here, since Youtube is now run by a bunch of fucking Google nazis.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=djV11Xbc914&ob=av3e

Did you know the U.S. is going to start censoring the internet? Scary stuff.

This post comes up second on the list when you google "Bigass Sony Headphones"

Because I have nothing worth writing, but still feel like sharing random shit with the internet at large, I have annotated all my old posts up to 23.7.10 while re-reading them. If you're bored, I encourage you to read through that, since it's much more entertaining than anything I've done since I quit drinking.

It's had the added effect of giving me two new pages of inbox, too!



You might be thinking "HOLY SHIT, 449 new messages! There aren't that many posts here!", and you'd be right. Not only do I save every email I've ever gotten (1750something right now in the main inbox, plus probably another few hundred in the Lisa folder alone), but I think people are dicks and rarely bother to open them unless the subject line is something to the effect of "WANTED - LEADER FOR CULT" or "FREE WEED, PULLED BEEF, AND ORGASMS" or something similar.


I just looked at the stats page, and apparently my blog gets something like 400 hits a month, not counting mine, so apparently there might actually be more than one of you out there.

Of course, the most frequently viewed post is apparently the one titled "Bigass Sony Headphones", and seeing as how I'm pretty sure that consists of nothing more than "Bigass sony headphones, bigass sony headphones, I love my bigass sony headphones", that means there's a good chunk of people being irritated by my asinine lyrisizing every month.

And that makes me smile.

Awaken the Dead is the foulest thing ever to be shat out of a diseased rodent and passed off as a movie. It's also completely unrelated to this post.

I write too much, To the point that I wonder if I don't have a compulsion to write random shit down.

For example, this blog has around 190 posts on it, with my movie blog having exactly 6, and my private blog (previously used to log my gardening untill I realized I could use a purpose-designed, automatically-backing up program and stop having to use all sorts of codes) has about 20 more posts. I also have a blog that apparently contains nothing except a brief bit of text on how to uninstall fallout 3, which I must have made while drunk. On top of that, I have two Moleskines filled up from the last year and a bit alone, one from the year before that, and about 20-odd notebooks of various sizes from when I was a kid and had yet to discover blogging (age 14-18 or so). On top of THAT, I have a 256 MB stick nearly filled with other 14-18 writings, one finished book of various Henry Rollins-type rants that I'm saving until I need some fire starting paper, a half finished one of some really bad, random-ass stories, another several dozen megs of writing on my laptop, and an 11MB folder of it on Lisa's computer. I also have a good stack of "loose paper" jammed into my filing cabinet next to the aformentioned shitty books, many, many horrifically ironic homemade posters with too much writing on them, two sketch books that are really mostly an exercise in scribbled insanity, and an hour long video-will which is actually just written text set to music. There' also a website out there someplace from when I was really young, numerous UD wiki pages, several ill-advised articles on bomb-making on the now defunct TOTSE.com (which is for the best, even if it was a kickass site, given that I had no idea how to build a "safe" bomb back then, and infact nearly blew one of my teeth out (or at least chipped a good chunk out of it) trying to get flash powder out of a cap), and Goddess knows what else that I'm forgetting.

I think it's mostly because I really rarely talk to anyone. This is really a choice thing more than anything - most of the things many other people say annoy the fuck out of me, or are just plain stupid (which is what you get for hanging out with other dropouts and ill-fitting kids), and accordingly, I usually end up talking just to get them to shut the fuck up. Unfortunately, I usually have nothing really relevant to say, despite apparently being the most knowledgeable person Lisa knows :P, so I end up being nearly as annoying. In order to avoid this, I simply don't talk to people untill I've established we'll have something decent to talk about.

I also think it's because I've recently been spending upwards of 6 hours a day sitting in my bathtub, something I did alot as a kid. The bathtub is a great place to think about ultimately irrelevant bullshit, and because I tend to enjoy re-reading such bullshit at later dates to see if I still agree with it, I write alot of that down.

On top of all that, I see life as a story, and I'm usually the main fucking character of my story and seem to occasionally be the main character of other people's stories too. For some reason, it's kind of fun to waste time thinking about how other people see the world and so forth, and part of the constant writing is incase I happen to stumble opon someone else who shares this outlook. I can simply say "Here is exactly how I see it and how my story goes" as I dump a shitload of papers on them.

Of course, when I was slightly younger and spent most of my time drinking untill I forgot I existed, I wrote because I would otherwise start hearing Shane McGowan muttering shit in the back of my mind. I'm just kidding - it was a pretty generic Irish-y voice, and I only thought of it as Shane McGowan because one of my favorite fictional characters of all time is based on him (and really, having a fictional character in your head is SOOOOOOO much crazier than having the lead singer of the Pogues show up when you're half a mickey in). I understand why it was there - I associated with Shane, and even more so with the literal and metaphorical vampire base on him (you can guess who I mean from there, I think). Writing was better than having these internal conversations because... well, honestly, it really isn't. If I still enjoyed drinking and could do so without wanting to die of sickness, the little mick bastard would still be popping up in my thoughts, telling me "Yeh know yer better for her, and yeh can have at least one more bottle a wine before yeh go to bed" or whatever the fuck the topic was at the time. I should make it clear that this wasn't hearing voices - rather, I tend to think in the second person ("You have to go to work today, so get your lazy ass up"), and for a while that second person thinking sounded like an incredibly self-destructive irishman. This is also why I pretty regularly refer to myself as "we".

In looking through my past posts while writing this shit, I've decided this is my favorite line thus far, and sort of helps illustrate where I was at when I started the blog:

"I feel like shit today. I think it's safe to assume that it's because I haven't eaten anything for a few days except shrooms and a pepperoni stick. Oh well."

A close second was this:

"If your biggest problem is seriously your inability to find anything to drink, and you're that broken up about it, maybe you should just go kill yourself. I'm not really even kidding. You're a shit friend, and I don't really care about anything wrong in your life, and if you've got a drinking problem to top that off, then I don't see why you can't just figure out that I want nothing to do with you. Besides that, hitting on me now, after all these years, is not something I see as tempting. It's selfish, because you really did get your shot and were a total dick about it all, and it's pathetic, and not in the same, somewhat nice way my girl falling in love with me for no reason is. I'll still be nice, because it's the polite thing to do, but you DO know this is how I feel about it."

because I'm still "friends" with that bitch, and still more or less feel the same way about things. It should be noted the other chick was so into me because she was pregnant with someone else's kid. Never, ever sleep with a girl till you've been dating three weeks - it literally saved me from being stuck with Sam's half-sister (not the young one, you fucking perv, through her Dad's side).

I also think I wrote much better back then, at least for a brief period, in part because of my absurd amounts of drug abuse (though I rarely smoked weed then.. hmm...), borderline alcoholism, and burning hatred for everything.

Ironically, despite my nerdy writing obsession, I never did end up writing that fucking Forrester essay.

It looks like I'm heading back to Dawson as soon as my little hobby plays itself out. Why?

Because Paul (not the other Paul - this is the older one I don't think I've ever mentioned here) wants me to come run his buisness for him.

I know! Ignoring the fact I've only worked for him a few times doing odd jobs, and literally have no experience in the spray-in box liner buisness, it seems odd that I would be his first go-to for what amounts to "Chosen One of Dawson's Workforce". Provided all goes exactly according to plan, I will not only be making literally twice what I made at the casino, but I will also have a free place to live, a car, and will eventual "take things over".

Now, this could all fall through, but that's ok, because on the same day, I got another great job offer doing basically the same thing I'm doing now - being a slacker and gardener. It pays much less, but hey, how can you go wrong?

Anyway, I think it's pretty funny that my life to this point has rewarded the "don't worry about it too much, and it will work out" tactic of living. Not only has it been more or less completely devoid of any moral lessons, but it's invariably shown me that it's both more enjoyable and better in the long run to not really have any.

And Lisa didn't believe me when I said things tend to work out with me and money.

So, I just realized you can now watch full movies on Youtube.

I promptly watched possibly the worst celluloid shit smear I've ever come across.

You can too!

http://youtu.be/u5CQYctEBfw

http://www.garfield.com/comics/vault.html?yr=1989&addr=891023

Apparently, there's much more to Garfield than pasta and sleeping. Read that strip through.

Also, if you don't remember Lyman because you didn't have the pleasure of having a huge Garfield library as a kid, be glad. I recently discovered the official reason for his sudden dissapearance (he was a main character and Odie's owner) is that he died on a peace corps mission, which is arguably worse than Jim Davis' comments to the effect of "Don't look in John's basement."

Related note:

This is pretty funny. It seems kinda dumb at first, but try to get through three pages without laughing.

http://garfieldminusgarfield.net/page/128

I hate the term "dared to imagine", especially when used in conjunction with one of those "oh, poor us" type causes. For example:

"The neurodiversity movement got its start in the early 1990s, when a few autistic people got together on mailing lists and dared to imagine a day when they would be seen as equals in society."

This particular quote also bothers me in that it claims handicapped people should be seen as equals, when, let's face it, they usually are not. Given that many aspergers/autistic people have no desire to even try to act like the rest of society/pride themselves on not being part of it, it seems stupid that they should expect it to have alot of room for them. As someone who can barely function in modern society, I don't expect to be seen as an equal amongst people I make a point not to interact with, and neither should they. /rant

The term "dared to imagine" implies there's some huge, scary punishment for doing it. Barring some matrix-type super-Orwellian shit that the planet as a whole is unaware of, thought police don't exist yet. Yes, you can go to jail for, say, shooting at the president. You can probably even get in trouble for writing him a letter saying you're shooting at him. However, the worst possible outcome you'll face for simply imagining it is a few wasted hours when you realize he'll probably be voted out in a few years anyway. I dare you to try it right now. If your door gets kicked in and some sunglasses wearing men in black stick a bag over your head and deport you to a secret government work camp miles below the Idaho potato fields, let me know. I promise to pay your lawyer fees.

I've been reading alot about the DPRK (North Korea) lately. I think I've added it to my list of places I'd like to visit someday. "But why?" you ask, "I can understand Cambodia - weed is legal there and grows in the wild, and you can shoot a cow with a rocket launcher for 200 bucks. Even Dubai makes sense, with the bomb shelter nightclubs and underwater resorts, but Korea?"

This is why:



I encourage you to try and find part two, and to skip to around 6:00 if you don't want to watch the whole thing but are curious as to what creepy DPRK anime looks like. But seriously, keeping in mind that this is an exceptionally small part of the whole event, filmed with a shitty North Korean camera from bad seats, where the fuck else do these sort of things happen anymore? Thousands of schoolkids used as a giant video screen, while thousands more people dance in time below them, followed up by a huge, million man millitary parade.

Sure, the DPRK is probably a MASSIVE dump for the majority of the people there, but I'm not really planning on staying there permanently, and don't tell me you could resist the chance to see something of such sheer magnitude. If you can, you obviously didn't watch the video and missed the dolphin act at the end.

The only thing I'd really be all that worried about is the trip getting there, since I think you need to use Air Koryo (the North Korean airline), and don't have much choice about it. Given that I grew up around aircraft and spent my childhood being raised by an expert, I think I have a fairly good grasp on just how easy it is for a good-quality Western plane to go from a soaring wonder to a falling hunk of mega-doom, let alone some piece of shit Soviet jet from the 60s.



Given that the jet in that particular video is indeed a piece of Soviet shit from the 60s, which had a bad enough operational history in the relatively well-regulated and rich USSR, and that there are VISIBLE REPAIR WELDS on the wings, I think I'd rather take my chances walking through the DMZ than flying in or out.

Anyway, I would like to go there someday irregardless. No matter what you think about the politics, it's still an interesting country, and not really any worse than any other second-world shithole like north Canada or India.

God and Vegitarians.

I don't understand vegitarianism. From my understanding, the majority of them don't eat meat because either

A)"I don't, like, want to support corporations who mistreat animals! They pollute the earth and hurt cows! I only eat all-organic foods brought in from nations with struggling economies!"
B)"Animals are people too! They have feeeeeeelings! And luuuurves! You wouldn't eat a monkey because it looks like a human, so how is it more right to eat a cow? Good people don't eat meat."

or

C)"Meat is super bad for you! Soy has everything meat has, and it is betta for teh enviroments!"

There are other reasons, sure. But these are the ones I always hear, and they drive me up the fucking wall. Because

A)One stinky hippy deciding not to eat a burger will not destroy the meat industry. Scratch that - all the stinky hippies in existance deciding not to eat a burger probably wouldn't make a difference. And while the meat industry does pollute, it's not nearly as much as the organics industry. Yes, your lettuce was grown traditionally by toothless Peruvian women in the misty foothills of the Liberalista mountain chain, with no chemicals or other pollutants, but how did it get to Smalltown, Canada? Did it float there? Do the toothless Peruvians tie the lettuce heads to birds, who then carry them north come summer and drop them in your local organic store? No, they get flown here, using jet fuel, where they are then treated pretty much the same way as any other food - they're sprayed down with chemicals, etc. etc. It's really a rant for elsewhere, but you see my point. Plus, have you ever actually been on a farm for the harvest, and seen how something like a combine works? How many rabbits, mice, etc. etc. do you figure one of those sucks up? At least I'm eating what I'm "killing". On top of that, think about what it would be like to be a cow. To help you with this, I've provided a short "Cow Journal", written by someone (me) who has spent some time thinking about being cow.

March 7th, 2009
Dear Diary, I was born today. My mother promptly kicked me away. I spend most of my time stumbling around trying to walk, and to get at mom's udders. Despite being incapable of moving in a way that doesn't make me look like a cat on acid, my penmanship is suprisingly good. Who knows what wonder and excitement will await me!

June 20th, 2009
Dear Diary, after months of waiting, I finally got sent out to pasture. Boy, was I excited! Unfortunately, all my dreams about what the pasture would be like were a little lofty. It turns out all we do is stand around and eat grass. I know it seems like this would leave me with alot of free time to go to community college or something, but unfortunately, I am a cow.

June21st, 2009
Dear Diary, I'm still waiting for the excitment of the pasture to start. I ate some grass today, but that was about it.

August 5th, 2009
I chewed some grass on the other side of the pasture today. Gotta keep changing it up, right?

September 11th, 2009
Dear Diary, I ate some more grass today, since that's all us cows seem to do. This diary is much less interesting that I'd hoped it would be.

October 1st, 2009
Dear Diary, More standing and eating today. I spent a bit of last week trying to tunnel out under then fence, and I started thinking - what would I do if I got out? Chew grass in a forest? Try to meet one of these wolves I always hear about? Maybe I'd go make friends with one of those big metal things that roar past the pasture. I was really worried about how these new relationships would work out, everything seems to move so quickly except for us cows with our stubby legs (it's almost like someone spent thousands of years breeding us so we'd be heavy, slow, docile creatures...), but then I started to realize that being a cow, I can't actually really dig or do much of anything besides chew grass, and it's all pretty moot.

November 31st, 2009
Dear Diary, today I had a good talk with a pig in the pen next door. He seems to think there's a talking spider around here someplace, and that he's on a big adventure. I wish I was a pig. They seems alot stupider than us cows if they think rolling in mud is more of an adventure than eating grass.

March 6th, 2010
Dear Diary, I think I'm getting MAAAAAAD COW DISEASE! The boredom is eating my brain away. God, I wish someone would just eat me.


See? Being a cow would be pretty frickin' dull, second only to being a tree (who are the ones we probably *should* feel bad for). Which leads to my next rant

B)People are animals, but no, animals are not people. They might feel, think, whatever, but I pretty honestly don't fucking care. Had chickens evolved opposing thumbs and sentience before monkeys, and become the dominant lifeform on the planet, do you think they would feel many qualms about knocking all our teeth our, breaking our necks, and turning us into yummy burgers for Chicken Fried Kentuckians? The monkey comparison is just stupid. I'd love to eat a monkey if I knew where to go to do such a thing. Fuck that, I'd probably eat a person if they were "all organic" and I didn't have to prepare it. See, feelings or not, it's long dead when it hits my plate, and there's a distinct differce between being the guy eat the burger and the guy who has a boner while he kills the cows. Hitler was a vegitarian, so I suppose if that's how you measure your morals, he's actually an alright guy.

C) Cigarettes are also bad for you, which is ironic because the people who I usually hear saying these things always have a cigarette in hand when they do it. And face it, meat is not fucking bad for you, which I shouldn't really have to explain, as the existance of carnivorious and ominivorous life sort of disproves this. Even herbivores can eat meat if they have to. Too much meat is bad for you, sure, but so is too much *insert literally anything here*. Too much soy seems to kill braincells, and I'd much rather risk being a fat sweaty guy with a timebomb for a heart than braindead.

I exagerate a bit (alot), but that's because I find your beliefs so stupid that I feel I can reduce them to absurd abstractions and still be fundamentally right. So stay the fuck away from me and keep them to yourself.

On a different topic,

Lindsay posted about God. I don't feel like writing much, so I won't give my specific beliefs, but I will give my thoughs on the Abramic god.

Ignoring that the God in the new testament is a complete fabrication (along with virtually everything in the new testament), let's look at this rationally.

The big three religions (Judaism, Islam, and Christianity) generally agree on a few points:
1. God is all knowing, divine, and so forth.
2. God created everything in one way or another.
3. God gave man free will, which resulted in some sort of conflict in heaven which led to the creation of Satan (or is tied to the creation of Satan in some way).
4. God loves us, and all he wants is for us to love him, so that we may be saved/get virgins/whatever.

With this in mind, consider the world as it is. It's pretty shitty here in general. You can deny that all you want, but for most people, life sucks. We spend most of our time killing eachother, etc. etc. Essentially, we use our free will to fuck eachother over as much and as often as possible.

So, if there is a God, and he really knows everything, why would he let this happen? Surely he could foresee that giving us free will would cause a TON of destruction, not to mention lead to the creation of what is literally considered the ultimate force of evil.

It seems to me like any God who knowingly and willingly causes so much pain to everyone, just so a small number of could choose to love and worship him, is not a loving God. He's a narcessistic, selfish prick, who is happy to sacrifice a whole planet just to feel self-worth, not to mention the threats of eternal suffering for those who don't.

If I dropped a bunch of people in a prison camp, gave them sharp sticks, limited food and supplies, and then told them they had to worship me to survive, or fight for the available resources and end up starving to death anyway, I would be called a monster, and most of the people would choose to starve. God's message to the world is apparently this on a bigger scale - Devote yourself to me and things will be ok, at least when you die if not before, or ignore me, live a shit life, then have an even shittier time when you die.

It's not that I deny a god exists. She does and her name is Eris, and she is or was probably one of many. I simply don't think the God that exists now (and the God of Christianity since it began - different rant) are fabrications. If you are a person of the book, your God is dead, or he didn't ever exist in the first place.

I suppose I should take a little sidebar here to explain why I'm against Christianity. Without going into a big rant, which will make a good blog later, I'll simply say that any intelligent person who has read both the new and old testaments should have some serious doubts about the legitimacy of the former, and that it's not a leap to suspect virtually every thing in there is just a tall tale told by (depending on your outlook) either well-meaning protohippies, or history's greatest scam artists.

Of course, some people also say that all Gods are false and invented by man, which is equally reasonable. Without the concept of "sin" or "good" or "evil", etc. etc., the world would be a much, much less stable place. The reason God is dead now is because we've outgrown him and don't need these concepts anymore. I agree with this to an extent - I learned young that if I talk long enough, I can justify pretty much anything to mostly anyone, meaning I'm either God, or morals are subjective and God indeed doesn't decide what's actually right or wrong, but I disagree with the general premise.


I am ranted out for now.
Anyway, here's some music to play you out.