i love to drive, and i like being far away. being alone isn't my preference, but that mightbe cool sorta too. if i got cheap at the last minute i could just sleep in my truck.
thats what i want to do for my birthday, although i think it depress me to be all by myself on the 7th of this wonderful month of june. so i guess i'll save my little solo mission for the week after my birthday.
tanky has been ready to saw off an arm and/or a leg to get her ass to mexico for some serious R&R, and party-rawr... maybe i should just go south instead of north.
i bet tanky's friend dez would wanna go too, and my MOM might want to go to mexico... so shit man... everyone wants to go to mexico. but my mom? that might be kinda bummer city.
i just want to be out of town, and NOT BE WORKING because that woudl feel nice, i like being out of town.
perhaps ppl would want to go to vegas?
who is going ot be in las vegas on june 7th, raise your hand and say "aye".
im going to ask around, but if you're a real life friend of mine reading this, (viking, big tanky, ect...) wana go to vegas? that is a total pipe dream, innit?
fuck man, i will settle for driving straight to Joshua Tree and taking a picture next to a cactus and driving straight home. can i get at least that???
it's my belief that a person should never complain about the noise their neighbors make.
my next door neighbor loves techno at 5am. My upstairs neighbors click-clacks her high heels ALWAYS when I'm trying to sleep.
but when I wake up, it's my turn bitches. And I hope that my sub woofer rattles the "do not disturb" signs off of your precious golden door knobs.
the bitch upstairs has some NERVE too, I'll tell you. Because she gets all up in my business if I'm bumping my gangsta rap at midnight. As IF that were late late. conan O'Brien isn't even on yet at midnight, for crissakes.
have you ever noticed how shitty music is when it's not unbearably loud?
if you don't leave a concert with your ear drums bleeding down the sides of your head.... Don't you feel cheated? Me too!
I have to admit though.... Some music just should not be played that loud at all. I mean, if you're a 45 year old man in a miata, basically ANY MUSIC you play should be quiet. And why don't you put your top back up? Have you no shame? Go buy a paper bag to put over your head while yer at it.
the one time I really get pissed is: the cars the go boom. I think it's all fine and dandy and super cool, ect. Whatever. But when I'm in the drive through line at del taco, it's not the time to try and impress me with how loud your car is. ALL I FUCKING WANT is for muchahcho taking my order to hear me clearly, and you're blowing it for me, you prick.
I see my shrink tonight. I can't wait to go.
smoke break during work.
kickin it at tony pierce's house with B-mo
I really swung for the fences with this last weekend, man. I gave all, and more, of myself the entire time, and I killed it. I have La Puente on lock down, and I am a City Of Industry expert.
Baldwin park... Can you hear me?
I'm taking the sign game to a new level. I'm throwing salt in the game of anyone who hates on signs, and I'm punking signwalkers into submission.
we're all just shiny happy people holding hands.
oh and since I have had yet more requests from strangers who can't seem to figure out my "complex" "non-ordinary" job. I can say it very simply and clearly:
I put out signs in a city, and I hire up to 15 people to hold a sign, and stand on a street corner. Got it?
why is that so difficult to grasp? SIGNS. It's not rocket science.
so anyways, I fina-fuckingly have a day off, and I refuse to wear more than my underwear. I have rules. And today the rules is, "no pants until sundown!" it makes perfect sense.
shoes are not allowed either. fuck a shoe.
I have a fat bag of M&M's, a fat bag of chronic, I'm wearing my new sunglasses, and I smell like Icey Hot. mmmm...
I can't wait to get paid, because I still owe $ on may's rent. And June is um... Tomorrow... So like... Yeah.
I think I want to go to morongo casino for my birthday. It's like the newish one they built two hours away, and it's supposed to be THE SHIT. I would love to get drunk and ridiculous there. How much for the penthouse? I'll fucking postpone rent another week or two....
things that people bought for my birthway wishlist have started arriving. a sin city book, a book on bullshit, the gangsta rap coloring book, Street Logos by tristan mancow, a lady de Guadalupe book, AND it appears that there's more on the way!!!! Thank you thank you thank you.
I originally made the list to send to my sisters and my mom, so that I wouldn't risk getting anything weird from the flea market that I have no use for. I never presumed people would really want to hook me up. I appreciate it immensely.
but... lack of attention has never stopped me from a full throtle tantrum. a trainwreck doesn't NEED an audience.
so because im born on june 7th, and that makes me a full blown gemini, does that really mean i suffer from extreme duality? i say that we all have combatting forces within ourselves, and that asrtology is hocus pocus.
i parallel between humping the sky and shouting "aww yea", and staring off into the distance silent and isolated.
i struggle between being my best and on top of my game, to barely having enough ambition to wipe my own ass.
i think humans forget that emotions are no different than hardcore street drugs. sobriety does not mean that you didn't snort, smoke, eat, drink, or otherwise injest something... sobriety mean that you are calm and in control of your emotions as well.
do people who are filled with rage make wise decisions? do persons who are sobbing and blithering with tears think clearly?
anger, pain, jealousy, pride, EGO... if you let these feelings take over your being... you are as "drunk" as the local wino hanging out by the train station.
knowing what you SHOULD know, being secure with yourself, acting right, being selfless, owning up to RESPONSIBLITY. being an adult.
im not a little kid anymore, i can't blame this or anything on my parents and how innapropiately they did or didn't raise me. we're all equally fucked up from our weirdo parents, and our kids are goin gto b e fucked up from US. that's just life. it's not a contest to see who has the most pain.
being an adult means you pull yourself up by your boot straps, suck it up when it's hard to suck it up, and grin and bear it while it sucks because you are mature enough to hold out for delayed gratification.
you tell yourself, "sure it sucks now, but it will be worth it when i hit the light at the end of the tunnel...." and it's true, and every ouce of suffering and strife amke the glory that much more victorious.
it's about follow through. how empty is a promise that isn't kept? oh i get it... you TRIED to keep the promise until it was a "hassle" and then you dropped the ball and turned into a sleazy no good WELCHERRRRRR
people are like ants, and when i was a kid i used to kill ants for fun. so whats that tell you?
this i know: stupid people are everywhere, cool people are a dime a dozen, and every once in a while... maybe once or twice a year... you meet someone who is genuinely kickass in their own awesome and original way.
i have work tomorrow, and i am rambling about something that doesn't even make sense to me anymore. too many heinekens? not enough heinekens?
damn yall... i wish i could blog from my bed. im tires. peace out.
but yay for me. i don't have to eat alone like a loner-weirdo. (even though i AM a loner-weirdo)
all i "have to" do is pack the bong a few times for him, but i would have done that regardless. whitey said he doesn't have good pot, so i will gladly stoke him out. he has a bag of the pretendica.
it's been a long and brutal two days... and i have two more to go... but i will be paid handsomely for all the heart ache. oh fo sho, baby.
i can't really remember the last time i ate... but i know it was way too long ago. i WOULD order myself a pizza, but i feel like i deserve better after a day of hell like THIS one. i'm going to buy myself a fancy steak dinner, and i don't care if i have to sit at a restaruant all by my lonesome. perhaps i'll bring a spiral notebook, and pour out my soul onto those college ruled pages. where should i go eat? the chart house? Old Tony's on the pier? all i know is that i refuse to pay less than $40 for my food tonight.
but let's face facts... me and my fat ass aren't going anywhere until AFTER a hot long shower.
i am extremely pleased with the strain of dope that dealer mcdope sold me. it's called sunkist, and it's frothy with crystals.
tonight i will sleep sounder than a two year old with a sippy cup full of Captain Morgans.
i've been apart from my precious Two Foot Jennifer Lopez for far too long. it feels foriegn in my hand... lemme rip this shit before i publish...
OH MY gooooooodness.... can you say, "ONE-hitter-quitter"??
so yeah, the bong still hits like it always did. good ole Jennifer...
i really want to blog more and more, i really do... honest-injun... but thinking about how salty, sweaty, dirty, and greasy i am right now, all i can think about is showering. OH MAN, i have waited SO FUCKING long for this.
hour long showers are THE SHIT. don't ask what im busy doing in there, but lemme tell ya... i feel RELAXEDDDDD!!!! now where is my goddamned steak dinner? im going to the pier.
i like changing my clothes when i get home, im the stoned mr rogers.
and with a bonghit, and smoke still in my lungs i will exit the apartment, and lock the door, and prepare to unwindddd
i got home from work at 3am. "a signguys job is never done." it's cool though... because midnight missions are always less stressful. less cars, more taco stands.
cesar and i had brand new signs, which basically means we had exgta work to do poking holes so that we can sip tie them to the fence, and hammering other signs to wooden sticks.
cesar and i are sharing the south central job, and we each have our own seperate gigs. HE has a one day sale in Costa Mesa with not that many signwalkers. and MYSELF will be rocking a three dayer with 15 signwalkers each day. (no sweat)
tomorrow i have the entire day to just build the sale, build my signwalker signs, and dress the city... all at my lesier. i plan on being done by noon... and then i'm off to mi casa fantastico, where i will abandon reality as we know it and opt for something more "chemically induced". or whatever the scientists are calling it these days.
i have three or four hours to twiddle my thumbs before i hop back to it. i should lay down, i guess.
this is a picture of anti without any photoshop done to it.
why do you think i write so much on this peice of shit globber. it's cuz man... my options right now are watch day time television (fuck THAT) read a book (yawn... mebbe later) or play with my camera and write messages to the world. (ok, i can do that.)
my titty cancer thingy seems to be going away. that was a close call, dudes.
in the yahoo video blogging group there is this new guy named E L Woody and he is the self proclaimed "king of papparazzi" and he lives in LA and is totally pissing everyone off in the video blogger group. it's so rad!!! i love it, and i think he is my new hero. everyone acts all butt hurt when he makes his remarks, but it's like... why are they taking a yahoo group that serious anyways?
people have actually bought me shit for my birthday!!!! this june 7th is going to kick major ass, i just knowwww it. and btw, june is also when a lot of people have birthdays, or graduate from school, ect... so if you know a boy who you need to buy a present for, perhaps my wishlist will serve as a guide on what to get THAT boy or person. who wouldn't love a book about stencil graffiti?
i think my truck needs brakes. i hate when my truck needs things. also my left headlight only turns on after i get out of my car and bang on it with my fist a few times... that's always annoying, because sometimes i forget, and really im lucky i havent been ticketed yet.
im starved and there are slices of pizza in the frigde that have a date with me and the toaster oven, ya HEARD?!.
who needs tv when there's software like this?
firstly, i think my shreenk said more to me then all my previous visits combined. i like when they analyze you, it reminds me of getting my palm read.
so what she said what that because my father is such a classic case of "narssicistic personality disorder" it means that if my mother is the competent caring woman that i presented her to be... then my mother would give in, and be malible, and flexible, because otherwise the marriage was doomed (which it was anyways) and then for SEVEN LONG YEARS my mom fought it out in a bitter and drawn out divorce. and of course my father had the upperhand, business and lawyers are HIS game. but my mom somehow fought and won what she won.
but throughout all of this, there is me. THERE I AM, existing watching two wacky role models set me up for a lot of unavoidable confusion.
of course there are parts of my personality that embody my mother AND my father, but my shreen wasn't trying to measure how much of either...
she was just saying that it's safe to say, or that one could presume, that *I* have a tendency to want to put my needs aside (bury my ego) so that i can "make things run smoothely" and at the same time i battle with an equally pathological driving force that wants me to be overly needy when it's innapropiate.
thanks mom and dad!
in short, im no more or less screwed up than the rest of you goddamned nosey sonz of bitches.
BUT THEN, because we still had time left, and i was sorta blown away that my shrink talked to me for so many minutes IN A ROW... i decided to ask her what she thought of me having dinner with my dad soon.
my shrink looked puzzled and asked me, "what is that supposed to acclomplish?" and know what... that's a great fucking question, to which i had NO answer.
well... that's a lie. it MIGHT accomplish something...
she said that if i am doing to to repair things with him, and get him to behave the way i want, and to rekindle a relationship with him... im likely to set myself up for dissapointment.
this is a con man, a salesman, a person who sees things in terms of "win" and "lose".. and to my dad... it's likely that if i had dinner with him, he would see that as a victory.
my shrink sensed that me not talking to him all these years is my WEAPON that i use to punish and hurt him. and she is RIGHT. it totally serves that function to me. and i love it for that.
but that's me playing my dad's game.
i told my shrink that maybe having dinner with my dad is a way for me to DROP MY WEAPON, and forfeit his "game". sure he will feel like he won, but who cares anymore. let him "win" pshhh whatever.
he can sit there and gloat in his head, "hah! they need me, they needed me this whole time, I KNEW IT!!!" but the truth is we dont need him, and we dont care if he thinks we do.
in fact if that maakes him happy to believe that we need him... then i HOPE he think we do.
im not saying i WILL ever have dinner with my dad... and even if i DID i sure as hell wouldn't have dinner with him for ANOTHER THREE YEARS. but in a large way it's like my dad is pandora's box... and let's just leave that shit closed and locked up tight, shall we?
one can find a sense of pride when they solve the problem that they set out to fix.
it's hard for me to understand that sometimes MY SOLUTION to a problem won't work for someone else. i'm so stuck looking at the world with MY OWN EYES that i often forget there are other points of view, none of which are 'wrong', and all of which are 180 degrees in the opposite direction of MY point of view.
it's funny to me how you can't even condemn judgemental people without being judgemental yourself. whatever happened to people taking their daily dose of "mind your ownnnn beeswax"??
i once over heard some wingnut say that they're "entitled" to interpret any piece of writing how they choose, even if the author specifically tells the reader that they misunderstood. and i suppose i have to agree... but for different reasons.
i think it's impossible to have EVERYone understand what the fuck you are talking about... and if you DID then you deserve some sort of gold star. but people won't get you, and you have to keep trucking under the promise and hope that "enough" people get you. enough meaning MAYBE one or two people.
my birthday is exactly two weeks from TODAY (june 7th). don't be a fucking cheapo.
i guess you can divide the entire planet into two groups of people... those who like robbin williams and think he is funny... or the group i am in, where we all think robbin williams is an obnoxious boob/tool, and want to toss our cookies when his image enters our minds. i mean, his arm hair is so long he has to move it out of the way to fucking look at his wrist-watch. who does he think he is??? the abobinable snowman?? fucking-a.
i have severe chest pains coming from this peanut sized lump in my right pectoral thingie. do i have titty cancer?!?! the hazzards of being a fucking hypochondriac... le sigh...
i've been very butterfingers-ish lately. im a bumble-stumbler. BS is my specialty.
my dental hygenist scraped the living bejezus out of my gum line, and then she flossed em up all crazy, and it felt like i was punched in the mouth with a spiked bat. it's true.
this weekend i am gonna have two jobs, one in south central and one in la puente. i'm going ot be busier than a monkey with a brand new bottle of KY.
bing is the awesome-est. send her mad flavor. thanks to her i am staring down the face of a nearly two foot tall Stay Puft Marshmellow Man figurine thingy. and it makes me tre happy.
you feverishly attempt to do right, turn your electric toothbrush on high, you floss like a madman. it's too late. they're gonna know what a fucking gross plaque-ridden slob you are.
if you think about it... you shouldn't brush your teeth the morning you see your dentist. THAT'S WHAT YOU PAY THEM FOR, RIGHT? isn't it about as logical as detailing your car BEFORE you take it to the car wash??
i should totally make a mini dentist movie. then you all can hear how they talk to me in baby talk.
my dentist's office is in beverly hills, because that's where all of LA's finest doctors practice their medicine.
im gonna smoke up the rest of my pot right now, so that im high as a kite when i show up fo rhte dentist.... thus giving myself cotton mouth. i hope they will appreciate not having to whip out that saliva vaccuum every two seconds.
i fucking hate doctors.
the logic behind a water pipe, or a bong, is that the process of drawing the smoke through the water acts as a filter, and is intended to cool the smoke so that it is easier on your lungs.
the idea works well on paper, but real life applications prove otherwise. as an assict, i try and get the biggest, milkiest, fattest power hit out of my bong that i can get. which in turn tears my lungs and throat apart.
you can only get SO BIG of a hit off of a joint. there is no two foot chamber of smoke getting stale by the second waiting to send me into such an intense coughing fit that i have to use my tee shirt to wipe all the sweat off my forehead.
i want to go shopping for roach clips.
i made a wishlist for my june 7th approaching birthday. i wish i could have put roach clips on there... le sigh. don't feel bad if you can't afford to buy me, a stranger to you, a birthday present. but im not gonna stop you if you reallly want to. (har, should i keep dreaming or what?)
what i REALLY want for my birthday is a road trip far away. anywhere far.
the dawg is also born on june 7th, and so is the artist known as prince.
im gonna go buy myself a lil red corvette...
winshield wiper. and then maybe i'll take a dump in a raspberry berret...
or something like that. yah. bye.
the setting in here is: the TV is on mute, and howard dean is talking to tim russert of "Meet the Press" and clearly does not utilize his upper lip while conversatin', my radio is set to 97.1FM and balanced on my deck chair because it gets best reception that way, howard stern and robbin are being broadcast live from New York and are talking shit about George W Bush, and i have kush breath.
i just got a great idea... it's a quarter after 3AM... and i have COLD BEERS in the fridge. wait here you lousy blog...
ok, so i used my bic lighter to pop open my beer, and then decided that i should take yet another bong rip (which i did) and now a camel light hangs unlit from my mouth... hold one more sec....
ok now it's lit.
i want to go back to the garment district in downtown LA tomorrow, and stock up on bootlegs again. i need star wars. i hope i can score one...
i also need to stock up on religious artifacts. i love those fucking things. i need a crucifix, and some hindu crap.
my shoudlers ache and im out of darvacets. i have a shit ton of those muscle relaxers, and all kinds of off brand icey hot.... so i guess i will live.
the easiest way to communicate with radiohumper while she works the graveyard shift at whatever weirdo job she seems to have (it apparently involves the humping of radios, but in a humane way) is to send her buzznet messages. i just told her to be friends with skirt, because dace truly does look graceful in those tastefully selected garments.
and since howard is talking about jennifer aniston and brad pitt and angelina jolie... i will weigh in with my opinion. brad is obviously over the top in love with angelina, BUT i don't get it myself. maybe angelina is the lay of the century, but i think she is a total butter. brad blew it. her lips have an ass, man... that may be hot to YOU. but to me, it's ri-goddamned-diclous. now dont get me wrong, i didn't get it with jennifer either. she looks naggy to me.
radio humpomatic just sent this link, and im DOWN.
this beer tastes extraordinarily tastey. i want to name her "yummy" but she will be gone too quickly to get attatched. that's why perishables make lousy pets. *I* make a great pet, except i don't pur, and im not house broken. and i might destroy your fancy designer italian leather silleutos.
no one said i had to make sense, so alsdjalskjdalkjdalhdhsgfsfghsagfsafsakfhskfhskadyfiweyroiqr
thank you that felt good.
"i see oj...
and he looks scurred.
and a bababooey to yall!"
alright my amigos. masterbation and sleep are taunting me with their delightful music. traaaaa la lala lala.
fa fa fa.
As human beings we tend to create mental images of what we see happening in our immediate future... We do it with a lot of things from picturing what your wedding day might look like, to picturing how your dentist appointment might go. WITH THAT SAID, let me inform you that when you create a mental picture of how you think/want things to turn out.... You just lost.
You Lose because things never turn out the way you want them to, and now you are constantly setting yourself up for disappointment. And the shittiest thing is that it's a hard habit to break.
what is normal anymore anyways?
life sucks because it's constantly evolving, and that little slice of time that you liked will probably never duplicate itself ever again. All you got are the memories, and even those fade way too fast.
a new situation might cause you to take inventory on lots of things in your life. How happy am I? Do I like my friends? Is this where I want to work? Is this how I want to live?
it's scary asking yourself such questions... Some answers are better left unknown.... That is unless you don't fear radical change in your life.
peaceful days? God, that seems like years ago...
I find in strength wherever I can, and I am constantly looking for inspiration. You'd be surprised how the little things make the biggest of differences.
every once in a while something magical happens and I find the strength I need WITHIN myself.
a sense of duty will get you a long way, so will a good worth ethic. The strength comes from need. Be strong or die.
perhaps you didn't already know: I am so selfish, that I drive away people that love me. I make people crazy. I'm a childish loser who can't comprehend anyone other than himself. Yeah, I'm beating up on myself... No that doesn't make it untrue.
I tend to believe things that people tell me when they are repeated to me over and over again, and by many different people. I'm going to be a very sad and lonely man.
it's made easier to believe because: I am already a sad and lonely man.
for whatever reason, the strangers who read my blog assume I'm out all night long lapping up the good life... I wish...
the truth is, I'm home alone, half naked on my couch, rubbing my feet together, pretending to care about soap operas and talk shows. Feeling SORRY for myself.
is that not the epitome of pathetic? I mean sure... There is no shame is feeling lonely, or BEING alone... But feeling sorry for yourself? Just exactly who do I think I am?
lately I am embarrassed at what I see when I look in the mirror, and taking inventory of my behavior seems to make me nauseated. I'm a pathological monster who unwillingly demolishes everything in his sights. I don't want to talk abou t it antmore...
know what my mom told me her idea was? Well my birthday is roughly two weeks away, and she said that I should invite my DAD to the birthday dinner. She said that he is playing a game by making us hate him, and that it would take all the wind out of his sails if we went out to eat with him.
I was paralyzed when she told me this. I couldn't even breathe. I mean, who's side is she on exactly?
can someone please put me in a bath tub full of NyQuil, and just leave me there for a few months...? It will seep into my skin and I will hibernate, and maybe when I wake up I won't hate myself so much. Maybe just a tiny bit less...
I'm to cowardly to ever kill myself. All I would ever do I run away and take myself... "Off the radar" I guess. But I think I'm too scared to even do that.
I'd like to be brave for once in my life, and have the balls to just KNOW what I should KNOW. "bite the bullet, and flare your nostrils in adversity's face." never doubt what you should already KNOW.
i guess the story goes that my boss was awoken by phone calls from our clients saying that the signs weren't up like they were sposed to be.
my boss was in his car on his way to the sale within seconds, and getting complaint calls every 10 minutes about that job.
when he arrived the ONE DAY sale was in shambles, and nothing was done as it was sposed to be.
for example 10 signwalkers were sposed to be placed out in the city starting at 9am.... but by 9:20 not only was danny short 4 signwalkers, but he didn't even have the signwalking sticks built yet. and worst of all... he lied about everything.
i don't think he expected my boss so show up at the job like that.
so anyways, i get a phone call saying that i need to go cover for my boss's sale for a minute, but only after i check in at MY sale.
so i drive to south central, and check in at my sale, and do the old wink/head-nod/finger-point, and then rush it over to norwalk...
everything is back on track, and danny is fired. i feel bad for danny's family, they always trust him to get off the meth, and danny never comes through.
im just glad danny didn't upset the client enough to cancel their subscription with our sign company... because then not only would danny be fired, but a lot of other signwalkers would be out of work. and that woudl be so super fucked.
firstly, i liked it, go see it, im sure you'll like it too.
but let me tell you about the bridge movie theaters, located in the westchester area of los angeles. Not only is this the most kickass movie theater i have ever been to in my life, but let's face facts... they have an open bar. need i say more?
no i dont gotta say anymore, already this blows away the craptastic AMC Rolling Hills. FUCK that place man... the bridge blows it to smithereens.
of course seeing such a high demand movie so close to it's opening... we had to wait, what felt like forever, before we could enter the auditorium and locate some seats. BUT... they were totally smart and had these two chicks slanging popcorn and pop off of some little hand cart... brilliant! i would NOT have gone all the way to the consession stand, but i WILL walk a few step over to those two chicks.
i felt bad for the guy sitting in front of us... he took a picture of himself with his girlfriend, and the security guard made him go and take the camera back to his car. It's a damned good thing i left my camera in my pocket, i sure didn't want to suffer the same fate. but i thought it was a little ridiculous... i mean, if it was me i would just take the batteries out and hand those over to the security dude, because there is NO GODDAMNED WAY im walking back to MYYYY car.
but then again that would be the perfect excuse to hit the car bong so that i could be freshly for the film... but whatever.
all im saying is, it's a tight place to watch a movie (the bridge) and i can't wait to go back.
i wrote lyrics to an instrumental song that night, and i wrote them down in my private, personal, spiral notebook.
i guess part of the lyrics mentioned wanting to die, and it wasn't long before i realized that any illusion of privacy i thought i had, was was a total joke, and next thing i knew, some dopey song lyrics i drew up were being taken way too serious, and i was being set up with yet another therapist (i have seen a shrink on and off since i was 6 years old)
i was pretty pissed off. not only did i feel betrayed and violated for them looking into my private journal... but they were making a lot out of nothing. sure i wrote down "i want to die" but it wasn't literal, and in fact, it was the easiest thing to rhyme with whatever lyrics i had written in that stanza.
just because something is written, does not make it true. Peter pan is a book, but that doesn't MAKE peter pan a real person, now does it?
got to love the system, eh?
i have some generic chronic to tide me over.
ok... back to the LBC.
but she is having an excellent birthday, and has already gone shopping a few of the gift certificates that were bestowed upon her. tanky loves to shop, and seemingly never gets the opportunity.
i just arrived home from a hellacious battle with way too many freeways. here is the list: 105-west, 405-north, 101-south, 134-east, 57-south, 10-east, 15-south, 91-west, 110-south. in that order. AND EACH FREEWAY was more of a parking lot than a freeway. fucking rubber neckers.
but i hear that des is gonna scoop up the tanky, and the tanky's troops... and im likely to get coordinates on where in the LBC the party will be at ASAP.
right now i have GOT to rid myself of this filth and stench that you get from sittin gin THAT much traffic.
they should make a Fear Factor event that is basically "who can hold thier nose to ANTI's car seat the longest." but they better have a top shelf medical staff on hand. my shoulder is sorta throbbing in a bad way too... so perhaps the hot shower will melt away whatever is wrong.
it was a georgeous day, and i'm excited about celebrating tonight. here is a WHOOT WHOOT to anti's bestest homie: big tanky, also known as: gothy larue. she still doesn't look a day past 15.
oh, and hey tanky.... see you in mexico, senorita. i'll know how to find you... you'll be the borrachita shooting revolvers into the sky, screaming "i'll killl all you bitchass motherfuckerzz!!!"
i am waste-alicious. and it feels fucking good, because like a good boy i ate my motrin at the propper timing.
we came up from "bounce" the brand new drum and bass club that's walking distance because we wanted to take six footers for big takny's birthday, with is happening in 30 minutes!!!!
we wanted to be "freshly baked", because there is no other fucking goddamned way to be.
they are finishing up the last of the double rounders that were on teh house. because i provide, my friends, i provide... especially when it comes to weed. you wanna hit some'dis?
im wearing a bracelet that reads serenity, and that's the last thing im gonna get.... THANK YOU GOD!
or mother erff.... or whoever.
full tilt to my heiniken, and YEAH YEAH to you in your faces, with red dots trailing me everywhere i go...
you know what? when i try and re-read this dribble... it really makes me laugh, but only because i am so up my ass, and spewing nonesense.... i am basically a parody of myself. but i can dig it... isn't that like how eminem dissed himself at the end of 8 mile, and took the thunder out of the FreeWorld Crew's raps?? sorta, eh?
i own a bootleg fossil watch that i bought downtown LA. it's actually a pretty decent knock off, but i think there is only one problem... it SOUNDS fake. the materials used sound a little "janky" when clicked together. there needs to be a link taken out, for certainly.
and because i was worried that the internet might have forgotten what i looked like... here's a close up picture of my face (for good measure.)
can you say star wars? i will bet you a beer that i see it before YOU see it.... mua hahahaha... and not no shitty ass bootleg version either. i'm talking VIP Screening, and a prestigious theater located on the west side of los angeles. yes, i am THAT lucky. i have the world's most kick ass friends... and why they let me squeeze onto an already impossible list, i dont know. maybe they want me to bring the weed? who knows.
big tanky recieved more books from her amazon wishlist, and can not wipe that shit eating grin off her face... let's hope that momentum stays strong. you can go wish her happy birthday in her comments on her blog, or if you are the private type, then go find her email listed above her blog roll.
*I* got my home phone bill paid BEFORE they shut it off, for the first time since 2003.
*I* will be in charge of the south central sign job, and its my favorite.
and i placed an order for some Kush, and it's allegedly going to happen right on time yall.
RECOGNIZE THAT SHIT!
my cigarettes are in the car, which leads me to one of life's most frequently askked, and hardest to answer questions: Should i get up and get my cigs out of the car??? or should i fish around the ashtray for a "long nuff butt" ??
le sigh... i think i need to splash water on my face. bye bye, my simple minded children.
sometimes i come here and i have nothing to say, but i think thats when it's most fun, because i have to pretend like i do, or else, i have to lay on my couch and do nothing. at least this keeps my brain juices moving, and as a stoned, barely alive, starving arteest, bump on the log.... i need all the brain activity i can get.
so i saw my shrink tonight. same old shit, man... is this for me? i will give it two more months, and then it will be time for a heavy audit of how much i "need" this shit. how much psycho babble can one human stand before they stop shelling out hard earned cash to hear it? eh? im certain tho that i am being impatient, rome wasn't built in a day folks.
the falvor of the week is GATORADE tropical intenso. and horchata. i dusted off the goerge foreman grill that i bought and used only once, and i bought a steak from Albertson's on the way home from the shrink.
everything in your life is holding hands with everythin else. a new rule i want to start sticking to is: if you can buy the food without getting out of your car... you prolly shouldn't be eating it.
i'm really unhappy with the weed i've been scoring off Dealer McDope... perhaps it's time i retire his phone number for a while. i know other ways about getting my chalice full of chronic smoke. one word: KUSHHHH!!!! two words: GREEN CRACK. need i say more?
look, i'd love to keep rapping with you-alls, but i don't have all god damned night, i have to get busy punching the monkey. slapping the clown. shaking hands with the muchahcho. waxing the dolphin. peeling the cucumber.
you know, the usual.
if you ever meet me... just wave hi. NEVER shake this hand. you just don't want to know, my friend.
and if that wasn't lame enough... after it's shipped to me, im going to actually wear it in public.
i've got some nerve, eh?
his face brightened up, and as he told the story his eyes glazed over and it appeared the world was invisible to him. he talked about counint all ten fingers, and counting all ten toes, and then recounting them feeling so lucky that his baby was perfect. and then he said something that made me think he was a wingnut...
he said, "She was just so pure and innocent and perfect, that i vowed and promised her that i would keep her that way forever."
here is my problem with that shit. what about what his daughter wants? maybe being "perfect" and "innocent" won't play into the role she ends up taking on in life. maybe she doesn't want/need you pigeon holing her before she even has an identity.
parents, and conservative america, want to treat the youth like kittens. Ever have a kitten? all you want is for it to stay a kitten forever, because cats aren't as cute and amusing as kittens. BUT CHILDREN AREN'T KITTENS!!
i wanted to walk up the the dad i was eaves dropping on, and tell him to shut his mouth with that craziness, and to just love and support his daughter, and not to impose HIS identity on top of hers.
but i did the smart thing, which was put out my cigarette, and shuffle along, minding my own business. *shrug* it's his family... he can do what he wants with it...
i may be insensitive... but i never maliciously go out of my way to to try and make someone feel badly, because it never made me feel better to do so.
this is often the formula for what makes a bully tick: firstly they suffer from the paradox of having a GIANT EGO and no self esteem.... it's like they have this bizzare warped sense of entitlement, for example when they are faced with life's realities (like a car cuttin gyou off in traffic) they get this bug eyed look on their face and think to themself, "how dare that car do that TO ME?!?!"
when reality is that no one did anything to anyone on purpose. they didn't "do that to you"... shit just happens, so relax, and do go off on some mission to "get revenge" you are pathetic.
the other aspect of bully people is their odd low self esteem, and the ability to undermine every chance or opportunity they might have been able to get.
+ + + +
now look, i am no saint. i've been a very very bad boy in my life, and done and said all the wrong things at least 5 million times. but i do know that the times i gave a person the benefit of the doubt, and assumed they were cool, even if olny to find ot later i was wrong.... it was worth it, and it made me feel more human.
funny how treating someone like a human in turn makes YOU feel more human. i want to be a really good human being.
when i was a kid in highschool, we went to a slayer concert, and to this day one of the most shocking stories i tell is how when i feel down in the mosh pit... the scariest looking mongol or hells angel biker dude caught me, pickd me back up, and asked, "you ok, bro?"
i should be glad... my weekend is over and normally this is celebration time...
right now though, i dont feel like celebrating, i feel like taking my 2 1/2 Lbs. Demolition Mallet and using the chisel side of the hammerhead on something fragile, valueable... and NOT MINE.
destruction of property has always been a stress reliever for me.
does anyone have a couch they can spare so that i can saok it in lighter fluid and burn this mother down? (firstname.lastname@example.org)
i watch my hands as i clench my fists, i see the skin tighten and watch the tendons stretch over every pointy knuckle. you can still see every move those tendons make, even underneath all the dirt, callouses, scabs, scars and skin. these poor hands of mine... the only relief after this kinda weekend is soaking them ice water.
i'd masterbate, but my shoulders are killing me. besides my muscles feel extra stiff, and soar.
i'm going to just take a shower... and clean off all this salt from my face and body (yeah i sweat THAT much)
i'm going to just shower until there is no hot water. i live in a building with a lot of apartment units and such.... so this could take a few hours.
shit, that's a lie, i dont even sleep naked... but you get the picture. nakes was sposed to mean vulnerable. duh.
look im slightly buzzed from the few beers i had at my lover drinkery. i love that fucking pub...
right now im drinking from a tecate beer can that i prolly ashed in, but im telling myself i don't care about the ashes in my stale warm beer... a guzzard is as a guzzards does, right forest?
look im a humor-capitalist, and if it makes me laugh and no one else... then ha ha to the world, because i dont give a god damned. know what's a joke? YOU taking anything i have to say for serious. like, OMG to the tenth power.
the world fades fast around me, and i have hardly a second to breath or see clearly whats happening until AFTERARDS when its too late and all that obvious boom-shackalacka. timing is everything... timimg is what i dont have any of.
know when it matters to be DEPENDABLE and CONSISTENT...? yah those are usually the time when it seems impossible to meet such criteria. i mean, i ain't fuckin superman... even tho you ain't askin superhuman behavior. but jesaus christ, can i get a "double-u-tee-eff"?? [wtf???]
the go i have decided is tha driving force with most issues any stranger may have. ego = irrational. ego doesn't allow for a person to admit when they are mean, wrong, evil, a bully, or just plain stupid. ego is a bitch, and it will stand in the way of reality. reality is defined as "what is real" and anyone's self importance has NOTHING TO DO with reality, you can take that to the godamned motherfucking bizzank.
can i get a cha ching up in the house tonight?
i stand here before you, on an imaginary stage... with an imaginary brick backround... and i stalk the stage... i get mean and i act like i hate you fucking peices of swine...
but i sing this song of my life, heart, feelings and dayt
you're not always going to have your cake and EAT IT TOO, but you can have your cake... and look at it, i guess......i mean if you dont eat the cake what the hell is the point, right?
and why's it gotta be cake? i mean was tofu just too healthy a concept for a proiper analogy? was it just too impossible to imagine that someone would not only WANT tofu, but would WANT TO EAT it as well?? yeah, i guess i can see that.
BACK TO MIND SET, that is the key. self image is everything. there are a lot of driving forces that effect your behavior... the way you see yourself, the way you want others to see you, ect.
Your Brain is a Giant Television, and all the cells that make up your entire body are watching this television. so what's on your TV? how can your thoughts be positively or negatively directing the course of your day to day life.
this is my awakening, and my time to crawl out of a long hibernation... i can smell life in a new way. *I* want to take the time to BE ALIVE. to see and experience the world i live in with a new set of eyes.
sometimes it takes a crisis to precipitate change... sometimes it's just because you know you will feel better.
it's such an obvious conclusion to make, that there are very few ppl who can say they NEVER thought of it. we have all thought about how simple an answer that is at least once or twice in our lives... so why haven't we all kicked? why did we all decide not to turn off?
i spose the answer would change depending on who you ask. some ppl are scared about the afterlife or lack there of... some ppl think it's selfish and wouldn't want to do that to their loved ones... other have other reasons.
i've had friends that killed themselves, and guess what... the person who always discovered the dead body was the best friend. EVERYTIME. what a nice thing to do to your buddy... let them discover your rotting corpse.
am i wrong?
that leaves me with allthe time in the world to prepare things perfectly as they ouught to be throughout the entire city of inudstry.
right now im meeting the viking at my uncles house, so's we can swap truck loads, and sync up our watches. and do the ceremonial sign chant, which involves lots of cloud creating, and foot stomping.
i hope my cousin has charolette tooth, the most loverly dog, with him when we meet up. which reminds me of the funniest thing i heard last night, it was from Dave Atell... he said, "Hey potheads, will you stop involving your DOGS inthe pot lifestyle?"
and on that note, i get dressed and hope i don't get any cigarette burns in my new bootleg tee shirts.
here is big tanky's wishlist, because there are still things you can buy her. i bought her a book myself.
and then i made myself a wishlist. my birthday is june 7th , and who knows, maybe i would get a book or two as well. but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it, IF i decide to publish my list. i dont want to get greedy...
right now it's big tanky's upcoming birthday, not mine. and right now you ought to cheer up this jobless latina reverend. because books always cheer her up.
December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 January 2006 July 2007