California Cell Phone Bill (Senate Bill 1613)

This goes into affect 7/1/2008 and not Sunday like people keep telling me. It's the handsfree bill passed last year. Requiring people to use a handsfree device to talk on the cellphone while driving 45 mph and kinda swerving on the freeway.

Here's the details. SB 1613

For those into loopholes, here is one:

"The bill would provide that this prohibition does not apply to a person who is using the cellular telephone to contact a law enforcement agency or public safety entity for emergency purposes, or to an emergency services professional while he or she operates an authorized emergency vehicle, as specified. The bill also would prohibit the assignment of a violation point for a violation of the above. The bill also would provide that this prohibition does not apply to a person when using a digital 2-way radio service that utilizes a wireless telephone that operates by depressing a push-to-talk feature and does not require immediate proximity to the ear of the user, and that person is driving a motor truck or truck tractor, as respectively defined, a listed or described implement of husbandry, or a listed farm vehicle,or a tow truck, as defined."

So, you can still talk to cops without a handsfree. And that's one to grow on.

How Do You Let The World Know...

...that you are a douchebag?

Short of wearing a shirt that says as much, you can be in a picture related to this article.

Gemco All-Stars

I was once part of a demo tape called the Gemco All-Stars. I still have the tape somewhere, but more importantly there is a wikipedia entry for Gemco and there was also a related store called Memco and they were owned by Lucky's. Who the fuck would shop at Memco? Probably the same people that would shop at Service Merchandise. Or, Best. I bought the shit out of GI Joe figures at Best and my Crossman (fuck Daisy) BB gun came out on a conveyor belt after I wrote the item number from the catalog down on a slip of paper and gave it to a guy in a red vest. Fucking awesome.

The Crossman website claims that it's speeled with one S. That can't be right. Perhaps, i should go to Crosman University for more information.

Your iPod Cannot Do This:

In the last 24 hours, on shuffle, my iPod has played "Feels Like A Hammer" by Dangerous Toys (that's one song shy of Trixter, I'm sure) and "In Those Jeans" by Ginuwine, which when dissected lyrically is pure poetry. They should teach a class at a community college on the lyrical poetry of Ginuwine. Shit. The intro could just be on "In Those Jeans" alone and then the Lyrics of Ginuwine II 486d (that's the class number so you can register by phone) could look at their other works.

Couple notes here. If your name is Elgin Baylor Lumpkin, you create a stage name. Why the fuck did the Trixter video for "Give It To Me Good" remind me so much of the movie Rad? Holy crap. I just relaized that my high school girlfriend kind of looked like Lori Loughlin. Holy crap. Rad was directed by Hal Needham who was the stuntman of Burt Reynolds on Gunsmoke and the same guy that directed Hooper.

Here are the lyrics in italics:

Looking good plenty time
Tell me is there any more room for me
In those jeans
Pretty thick like I like it
Tell me
is there any more room for me
In those jeans
Looking tasty really scrumptious
Tell me is there any more room for me

In those jeans
Looking good plenty time
Is there any more room for me
In those jeans

Got on my ride seen you from a far
And I couldn't stop myself from looking hard
You wore these jeans
Girl you wore
these jeans and you
Made a thug wanna cry something terrible
I had to have, have you for myself baby
You don't know
what those jeans do to me
Make me wanna get down on one knee
You got that thunder
And it only makes me wonder how it
feels
To get up in those jeans
Oh those jeans

You are the bomb
Girl you tight to death
I don't know the words to say to you
All that i know, baby all i know is
that
I'm loving what I see and I'm feeling you
I wanna know, all I wanna know is if
I could have what's up in those
jeans
Baby can I have what's up in those jeans
Don't get alarmed cause I don't mean no harm
But I love the way you
wear those jeans
Levis, Prada, BabyPhat, I love them
Love the way you, wearing them I love them can
Calvin, Iceberg,
Sergio, I love them
Trying to get inside of those
Yeah Yeah Yeah

I wanna say that them jeans looking good fitting right
Baby damn those jeans
Any kind doesn't matter you could win 'em
you look fine
Baby damn those jeans
Anytime that I see you I want in, you wear them well
Baby damn those jeans
You
the shit you the bomb
All I wanna know is can I have what's in those jeans
Can I get in those can I baby

Now, feel free to sing along...

Update: Add "Josie" by The Outfield to the list of randomness from iPod shuffling.
'Herm" by The San Francisco T.K.O's. This is a dope fuckin' jam.
"50%" by Grandaddy
"Sensible Shoes" by "Diamond" David Lee Roth
"Letting Go" by LA Guns
"Sunshine Superman" by Donovan
"Not If You Were The Last Dandy on Earth" by Brian Jonestown Massacre
"Clock Strikes Ten" by Cheap Trick
"Fight Night" from The Karate Kid Soundtrack
"Gabrielle" by Ween (from Pennsylvania)
"A Devil Among The Tailors" by At The Drive-In
"Rocket Man" by My Morning Jacket
"Fear City Slide" by Queensryche (I skipped it)
"King's Crossing" by Elliot Smith
"In the Lap of the Gods Revisited" by Queen
"House of Pain" by Van Halen
"The Swimmer" by Frank Black
"The Argus" by Ween (from Pennsylvania)
"Runnin' With the Devil" by Van Halen featuring "Diamond" David Lee Roth
"Syeeda's Song Flute (Alternate Take)" by John Coltrane
"Freewill" from Exit Stage Left by Rush
"Hewlett's Daughter" by Grandaddy
"Baker Street" by Gerry Rafferty
"Arise" by Mr. Lif
"Crackity Jones" by The Pixies
"Theologians" by Wilco
"The Noose" by A Perfect Circle
"Miyagi Rattles the Bones" from The Karate Kid Soundtrack (WTF?! Is it even trying to shuffle?)
"Waterworld" by Handsome Boy Modeling School
"Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" by The Police
"Pulk Pull Revolving Doors" by Radiohead
"Murder By Numbers" by The Police
"S.A.T.O" by Ozzy Osbourne
"Flip!" by Apollo Sunshine
"The Thin Line" by Queensryche (Didn't skip it. It's a bad jam.)
"Fools" by Van Halen
"Hard Driver" by Badlands (Seriously)
"It Keeps You Runnin'" by The Doobie Brothers
"Nightsongs" by Cinderella
"Saturn III" by Fu Manchu
"When You Hear That" by Ratatat from their Remixes Volume I album (Siiiiiiiiiiiick!)
"Nice Dream" by Thom Yorke from the Bridge Benefit
"Trouble" by Daniel Ash (American Psycho Soundtrack)
"Go It Alone" by Beck (really good clapping when listened to on headphones)
"Postcard of a Painting" by Maximo Park
"Parabola" by Tool
"D) Pt IV" by The Mars Volta
"Cherry Blossom Girl" by Air
"Stop the World" by the Clash
"Mandy Goes to Med School" by The Dresden Dolls
"Point and Click" by Tomahawk (Patton and Jesus Lizard Yo)
"Bad, Wicked World" by Frank Black
"Kaftan" by Les McCann & Eddie Harris
"Lay Down the Law" by G. Love & the Special Sauce
"Friends and Neighbors" by Mr. Lif
"Lousy Reputation" by We Are Scientists
"If I Fell" by Jason Falkner
"Marathon" by Rush
"Steve Biko (Stir It Up)" by A Tribe Called Quest
"Bad Card" by Mr. Lif
"Seconds" by U2
"All Over the World" by The Pixies
"The Ocean" by Sunny Day Real Estate
"Shankill Butchers" by The Decemberists
"Automatic Blues" by The Cult
"Like Sonny" by John Coltrane
"What Does your Soul Look Like" by DJ Shadow
"Trusted" by Ben Folds
"The Cantaloupe Woman" by Grant Green
"The Chauffeur" by The Deftones

Holy Crap! The Chicken Dance Compilation

OVER THE LINE! Mark it zero, Dude.

CosPlay pic lifted from fort90

Here is the dilemma. The iPhone comes out tomorrow and Transformers has been bumped up to July 3rd. Simply stated, I can't wait in line for both and my Megatron costume would look lame in the line for the iPhone. Not lame for the obvious reason of being dressed up for the wrong event, but lame that I would probably be standing next to the guy who built the Optimus Prime costume that actually transforms.

Quien Es Mas Loco?

Ricardo Montalban? My Mom? Or, her therapist?

I'm a staunch advocan't of organized therapy and feel that most individuals can do it on their own through stubbornness and sheer will power. In addition, since I read Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, I'm deathly afraid of mood altering medications. In the past two years, however, I've dabbled in therapy and stared down a box of Zoloft and debated starting a prescription med regiment in order to be happy. I feared that deep down I would know that I was only happy because of the meds, though, and chose not to take them. I suppose that after taking them for a couple years I could stop and a tiny mouse could let me know that it was me and not the feather all along. That's kinda cartoony, though.

Anyway, when your phone rings and you look and see who it is and bigtime them once, you are okay if you call them back as soon as you have a moment to share in conversation with them. If the number rings again within a minute or two, you need to grab it because something is wrong or someone is in trouble.

This happened to me on Sunday, so I picked it up and it was my stepdad. He sounded concerned as one would expect from the two calls in a minute scenario. It would be a really good idea if they added a "Dude, seriously" button or function to a phone that would give it a special ring so that your family knows that the call is serious because, frankly, sometimes you just can't talk to your mom. I'll work on that.

So, my stepdad asks me if I can drive over the hill to Santa Cruz where my mom is without a car or a cellphone in front of a mortuary. I have to admit, it's quite a lead-in to spark my curiosity. I ask him what's going on and he tells me that my mom owed her therapist some money. She went to her therapist's house to drop off the check and her therapist wanted her to stay the night until the check cleared.

At this point, I suggested the use of cash, cashier's checks and sorry no C.O.Ds be used to avoid this in the future. It worked for the Rolling Ruler. I totally don't blame her therapist for the concern of the check bouncing because, god love her, my mom is not real good at being places on time or balancing checkbooks. I do, however, think that the slumber party part is a little bit much. She also took her cellphone for collateral, I guess. Hence, my mother has no way of contacting anyone and ended up using a fax machine at a mortuary to call my stepdad.

So, my mom ends up in the car with her therapist, somehow, and allegedly is forced from the vehicle after her therapist tries to convince her to check herself into an insane asylum or whatever the term is nowadays. My mom went into more detail on this when I talked to her the next day and said that her therapist had actually gotten a few clients to do this. Also, her therapist called my stepdad and said that she leaped from the moving vehicle and is not picking up her phone, which her therapist had at the time of calling my stepdad.

At this point, I'm imagining Moonies, Mansons, Masons and huge amounts of Kool-Aid. What the fuck has she gotten herself into and why am I concerned with taking care of my mom when I'm the one who is supposed to be the one out of control and a loose grip on reality and responsibility? I'm functional, but one wouldn't use the word stable unless it was referring to where a horse lives and I had locked myself in it. Also, why does Jim Jones look like if Tom Flores and Boz Skaggs had a kid?

Regardless, my stepdad says he is stuck in traffic and asks me to go get her because I am closer. He is right and at this point I'm a little concerned about her safety and have no real destination, but figure he will give me one by the time I'm close. I've also figured out what street her therapist lives on and mapquested it. I've also totally accepted that fact that I'm probably going to be stabbed or at least kicked in the stomach. Whatevs.

I get about a mile down the road and my stepdad calls back and says that she has managed to get a cab and get back to her car. I turn around, head home and wait for the aftermath.

I get a call later that night and my stepdad says that she is home and okay. It's kind of a relief, but I'm still a little uneasy about what went down. It's just fucking weird.

So, my mom calls the next day and doesn't sound real good. She's got that trembly voice and you can almost hear her chin quivering over the phone. Could be my cellphone reception, though. She starts talking about how my grandpa (Mormon) came over and prayed because my mom and her therapist were into black magic or what you may call soothsaying. She said that her therapist had made some "predictions" and that some of them came true and were a result of the usage of abilities in the black arts. She didn't mention the use of the horoscope section in the paper, though. She spoke of how her therapist demanded that she relinquish my little sister for the Summer because my mom was unfit to be taking care of her. Then, she also talked about her therapist's mood swings during the whole event and made some comment about how her therapist called herself the "Pied Piper" of her neighborhood and that she may have placed a curse on my mother.

I'm serious. This conversation happened while I'm sitting at my desk at work in dark socks, with dress shoes and a button up shirt being NormalGuy. People are walking by my office and waving as I'm listening to this stuff over the phone and smiling and waving back as if I was making an order for binder clips and reams of paper.

The question that keeps going through my head is WHY THE FUCK WOULD SOMEONE GO TO SOMEONE CRAZY FOR FUCKING THERAPY? I suggested that she really go talk to a LICENSED therapist that doesn't take her hiking, smoke her out, or tell the future. I guess, just someone who does not dabble in the black arts and charges by the session and not excursion.

So, sitting on that this week and not writing because I'm lazy. I also have been completely abstaining from scumbaggery and the like. It feels nice.

I Really Hope They Don't Pull This Down

This is one of the funniest interviews I have ever seen Conan do. Paul Rudd is starting to become my favorite. Watch for the "hangin' brain" part.

Ugggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Pat Torpey - Mr. Big (Click it to go there)

So, recently visited Seattle or Jet City if you are in Queensryche. WTF?!?!?! How is Queensryche touring with Thin Lizzy? Has the world gone crazy?! My backpack was stolen with my everything in it including my work laptop. This means that I'm in the process of rebuilding from nothing. I managed to order a new Dell Latitude D830 with the Santa Rosa chipset that should be pretty tits, though. I also had to buy a new iPod which will in turn force the next generation of iPod to market two weeks after I have purchased the current generation. It's part of their marketing plan, I swear. It's a formula in their Excel spreadsheets. Silver linings.

In the meantime, go to JakeELee.com and check the box next to how many years you have been a fan of Jake E Lee. I was listening to Ultimate Sin today and just had to see what happened to him after his foray into a solo career with Badlands. You've never heard of them, but Pappy just ordered it from Amazon. Also, how does Ozzy get away with only putting out 9 songs for an album? Also, how does Sharon Osbourne get off going back and rerecording all the bass and drum tracks with better musicians than the original? That's cheating like the overdubs on Beast From The East. "Mr. Scary" live. That's all I really need to say. Also, should probably say Pilson with an exclamation point. That's a deep cut reference right there. The only thing deeper would be a Pat Torpey or Reb Beach reference.

Daryl Who?

While contemplating why someone would be microwaving a bicycle tire for lunch, because that was definitely what I was smelling, I checked the wiki entry for Handsome Boy Modeling School. I checked out some of the collaborators on the record and was stopped in my tracks on track 14 on White People. Prince Paul and Dan the Automator collaborated with John Oates. This brought me to the John Oates biography with two slight mentions of hitmakers hall & Oates. The "H" is lower case on purpose. From the bio I bounced to a link for John Oates: Live at the Historic Wheeler Opera House. So, at this point, I'm like Phil Collins and in too deep. I look at the bonus features on the DVD and there is a video starring Paris Hilton. WTF?!?! Has the world gone mad? Is there a more convincing way to establish and confirm yourself as being on the B-List than being in a John Oates video? Was Andrew Ridgeley unavailable?

On that note, if Andrew Ridgely and John Oates ever form a band, run. Don't ask questions or look back. Just run. it is either going to be the most powerful thing you have ever seen or the sound of millions of voices suddenly crying out in terror and then suddenly silenced.

And Then There are Enactors

This may be a coincidence, but Red Dawn has been on AMC like five times already this month and then I read this: US Pursues Own Missile Plan. This is all I have to say:

And Then There are Detractors

I just want to point out that the term is coming up a lot lately for some reason.

I can tell you for sure that Robert Hoffman does not miss the Cold War.

"We've seen centrally planned economies before -- I believe that's why we fought and won the Cold War," said Robert Hoffman, vice president of government relations for software giant Oracle, based in Redwood Shores. "To scrap the employer-sponsored green cards would seem to suggest that there is something inherently wrong with employers picking the skill set needed for our economy." - SFgate

$50 Says This Makes Pappy Laugh

This was taken right after a guy said "He doesn't like you" to Pappy.

Pappy said "I'm sorry."

Then, the guy goes "I don't like you either. You just watch yourself. I have the death sentence on twelve systems."

Then, Pappy was all "I'll be careful."

Then the guy was like "You'll be dead."

I think you all know how it ended and that is it ended awesome.

No Brainer

GOB Bluth

I'm not biting on this, but felt that it must be shared. I found the link on Digg and the goods on Tubewad, so give love and credit. Here's the link: GOB Bluth.

The fact that Arrested Development is not on anymore and Deal or No Deal and the Are You Smarter? franchise exists is a travesty, but speaks volumes of the degradation of American intelligence and wit. Yes, it's not a franchise yet, but it will be. Think of the possibilities. Are You Smarter Than Your Cat? It could happen.

And on the Sixth Day

Sixth day without a cigarette. I've had to introduce a few habits to encourage the discarding of old habits. I heard somewhere that applause is a behavior that mimics the frame on something that is appreciated visually. Hand clapping and general lauding of all sorts is considered a type of sonic framing to something that is appreciated via a person's ears or through sound.

In my life, a day was framed by a smoke before bed. I would go sit in front of my apartment and process the things that had happened that day or the previous week or life in general and also consider all of the things that I was to do the next day. Also, more often than I'd like to admit, I start to dread trying to fall asleep and fear that I won't be able to which causes me not to be able to. Now, with the recent loss of my worldly possessions, I am also fearing that a young Malcolm McDowell and his Droogs are going to come in to my apartment, using my keys, in the middle of the night and beat the piss out of me while they take all of my things.

Anyway, I still have that nightly urge before I go to bed to signal the end of my day, but I instead read a book for about a half hour before I go to bed. I also play music really low and create white noise with my fan. It seems pretty elaborate, but it's working. The only other things that put me right out are fornicating for a long time late at night, drinking too much, or being hungover. Otherwise, I get a jolt of energy/stress at about 10:00 PM every night. This ritual seems to be doing the job of calming me down without promoting cancer. It's nice.

On the smoking and drinking subject, I'd be lying if I said I've quit smoking and drinking. Don't get confused. I haven't smoked, but I won't be able to say that I've quit until it's been about a month or something. I still crave, but it's just the brain sending impulses that the body is not following through with. It's like when someone says something stupid and your brain says to your hand "You better right that bitch, Donny" and you don't lash out and do anything. I still crave a drink and it hasn't even been a week, but I just have a nice, tall glass of water and let the urge subside.

The one problem, is that I've substituted smokes with snacking. I'm trying to weigh the pros and cons of skinny with cancer or fat without cancer. It's seriously a toss up right now, but if I can manage to get to the gym and still quit smoking, I'd imagine this will get easier as time goes on. Plus, If I don't drink and don't smoke, I'm going to save a lot of money. A guesstimate would put it at $60 (3 packs a week for a month) + $240 ($60 tab, at least, per week for a month) = $300 a month. That is almost a car payment.

Oh! So the reason I started blogging was to warn people not to talk to themselves at the office. A co-worker is doing it today and it's totally creeping me out and is also very unattractive. Don't do it.

Fifth Day

Well Guarded in Hobo Tags

I haven't smoked for four days. I'm on my fifth. Icanhaz some real cravings last night while I was watching Hell's Kitchen and actually got up twice to go have a smoke and realized that I don't smoke anymore. I've noticed that my hands smell really good. I'll actually believe that I quit if I can go two weeks, but this is the longest I have gone since I was 21 and didn't smoke.

I was getting the hard press on why I could not be a "boyfriend" last night to the point of an argument. This situation would normally make me smoke and I didn't. That's a point.

Is there something wrong with well-enough-alone? If you enjoy someone's company, do you really need the t-shirt with their picture on it that has "My Boo" airbrushed on it? Do people have a problem with just enjoying the moment? Do people have to always look down the road and determine if this person is going to be a good dad, have a strong mutual fund and a less enlarged prostate than his peers? That's right. I'm calling you out ladies? Dudes, do it, too. I'll give you that. I used to do it. I'm focusing on ladies because those are the only ones that have a direct effect on me. I get the down-the-roaders or the NSAers and that's it...I also get the married-with-kidders, but I never really bite on that. Got tricked once, but I won't fall for that crap again.

Here is the question I posed last night. I asked "If you knew this whole thing was going to blow up in our faces/your face two years down the road and you were going to despise me and hate me more than anything else in the world, however, you knew that during those two years(or two weeks) you were going to have a lot of fun, would you walk out on it?"

It's a question I sat on for about a year after I got unlegally divorced. I think the answer is no. If you know that the ship is going to go down, but it's going to be fun while it lasts, than fucking have fun and don't worry about the ship going down. Eventually, it will, in one form or another. So, the moral of the story is that if there is no risk in it, how can it possibly be fun? Or, if it doesn't hurt, you must not be trying.

Also, shorts are still missing. My money is now on the scenario where I karaoke something and drop my drawers, remove my shoes and socks and go home in my underwear with a Chico Heat jersey on. If I got a ride home from someone, it makes this scenario more likely. The only problem is that I feel like such an asshole that I won't even go back to the bar and ask if they have a pair of shorts and a pair of Adidas Gazelles around. It's called shame. I have asked if they found a set of keys or a wallet and they said no, but I haven't asked about the shorts. It comes out of my mouth like it's in Chinese. It feels incredibly awkward asking someone if they have seen your shorts in a bar.

Here We Go Yo. Here We Go Yo.

My shorts are still M.I.A and now my shoes and socks from that night are missing. There are also obvious signs of forced entry in my apartment and on my face. There is, however, a silver lining. I haven't smoke in three days. I'm on my fourth. I also haven't drank in four days and don't plan on it for a while.

Since last Thursday, I've shut down two credit cards for the second time this year. I had to buy a new phone with no rebate or two year agreement and those fuckers get expensive without that. I also forgot my phone at home today, but at this point don't really care. I've had to get new keys for my office and now stress about someone coming into my apartment and taking everything and then taking my care because my driver's license with my address on it was lost with my keys. The thing that keeps me sane is I don't really have anything that anyone would want to take and I'm pretty sure I managed to lose my keys on my everything on my own.

I've been through a few scenarios.

Scenario #1: "Not My Scenario"
I got a ride home from the bar. Then, broke into my apartment through my window. Then, called a booty call in my apartment complex (no one in my complex talks to me). Hit it and then went home in my shirt and underwear. The booty call, then, is keeping my shorts and shoes and socks as a memento.

Probability? Pretty Low.

Scenario #2: "I've Done Something Like This Before"
I was in the bar singing karaoke and hit the sauce too hard. For some reason, in some song that I was karaokeing, found some reason to drop my drawers. Then, some dude gave me a ride home with no shorts on and no shoes. I then broke into my apartment without noticing my lack of shit and went to bed thinking everything was fine. I then find out that my shorts are gone the next morning. this places my shorts at the bar somewhere, however, I have gone back and non one has been much assistance. I also might add that I have not asked if they found any shorts and all the items are actually in the pockets of the shorts. I'm working up the nerve for that one.

Probability? Pretty High. I've done it before.

Scenario#3: "Logic No Longer Applies"
I would be lying if I said I have not considered a leprechaun on a unicornasus. Logic does not apply anymore. I've checked the fridge, microwave, dishwasher. I'm stumped.

Probability? Admittedly, pretty low, but I wouldn't be surprised.

Scenario#4: " A Mugging"
The cut on the face could be from some type of thug encounter...where they take your shorts, socks and shoes. That would be the weirdest gang ever. Also, they would have to hang out between my parking lot and my front door. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought of it.

Probability? Higher than the leprechaun on a winged unicorn.

It's Confirmed

I'm having one of those days. Here is a cut and paste of what I just did over my hotmail account.

Date: Fri, 1 Jun 2007 06:24:00 -0600
From: wendy@leadspringmail.info
To: kaitlyn_40@hotmail.com
Subject: Email Me

Hello, My name is Wendy i am 24/F/USA
would you like to chat? Email me back ill be online all day


Wendy

My response:

RE: Email Me

From: J.J.

Sent:

Fri 6/01/07 10:58 AM

To:

Wendy24 (wendy@leadspringmail.info)

God. All I ever want to do is chat with females who are an unverified 24 and probably some fat fuckin' guy in Kentucky. That is assuming that I'm that fucking lucky. Thanks for the fucking e-mail. Now, go fuck yourself.
-J.J.

By the way, feel free to send Wendy tons of e-mail on behalf of me. Add her to your evites and anything that you mass e-mail. Ihate her.

I really need to find my shorts. This is killing me. Who loses their fucking shorts? I swear to god that this is enough to make me quit drinking altogether. I swear I will. Then, I'll quit smoking and what will I have? Nothing. Actually, probably a kid or something. That's the next boot to drop today. I've figured it out, finally. I will get a call today letting me know that I'm a dad. I'm sure of it. In all honesty, if it happens it may be a good thing. Perhaps a life of paternal bliss is just the thing to stop me from converting my temple (body) into a fucking punching bag. Sometimes it feels like (if you believe in it) challenging God to make a move. It's like I'm looking at him and saying "Dude, if you think you are so awesome. How come I can do this to my body and you can't do a thing about it?" It's either fronting on God or the Grim Reaper. I'll have to think about that. On the other hand, I just might have Sho Kosugi as a guardian angel. I get away with a lot.

By the way, I just name dropped Sho "Revenge of the Ninja" Kosugi. I'm awesome for that.

Ooooh. It's turning into that blog again. All I need is a hangover and some self-loathing and it gets interesting and personal again.

What Has Two Thumbs...

That's the new Hogzilla with corndoggers in ut.

And is having the worst day ever?

This Guy.

Here's the deal. I have a cut above my left eye. My left hand is cut up a bit. I broke into my apartment last night and this is the best part, my shorts from last night are missing with my keys, my wallet and my phone. On top of all of that, I slept through the alarm this morning and it's payroll day at work. That's a big deal.

So, I rolled in at 10:00 AM with my spare car key and my spare apartment key and had to have someone let me into my office. I've called my phone about a hundred times this morning and hear nothing in my apartment nor my car. I've gone to the bar I was at last night and there was nothing there either. I'm stumped.

I'm to the point that I'm ready to blame a leprechaun or something. I've scoured my house and I can't find anything. I've lost my wallet and my keys before, but never my shorts...on a Thursday. Seriously, my shorts are nowhere to be found and I don't think I walked home with no shorts on. I would have at least got nicked for a drunk in public. Plus, I drove my walking route and there are no shorts there.

Then, I called a "friend" as I'm having a total fucking meltdown this morning and her first question was "Did you sleep with someone?"

First of all, if you are so wasted that you lose your fucking shorts, you are not going to be able to get it up. You couldn't fucking lick a boob. You need to go to sleep at that point and the penis veto, which does happen a lot, is shot down by Maslow's hierarchy. Your body wants to sleep more than fuck at that point, sadly.

Now, your silver lining. My life is a shambles right now and I have to rebuild from nothing, BUT, I didn't drive. That's a win.