Rock And Roll Hall Of Booshit

I went pseudo-Kenobi this weekend which consisted of getting major yeah-yeahs out on Friday night astride my trusty Schwinn Heavy Duty. I wasn't even going to touch my car this weekend if I had a whiff of alcohol. Checkpoints and whatnot intimidate me. So, anyway, got pretty much blackout on Friday and was swept up by an enabler who cared for me and got me home with my bike and everything. I must have been a raving asshole and I kind of feel sorry about that, but let off all of the steam that had built up. So, needless to say, I missed St. Patty's day pretty much and am totally okay with it.

So, that puts me at St. patty's day which was spent laying by the pool with my iPod finishing up The Odyssey finally.

My complex pool is poor socially. To tell the truth, I don't even know what everyone is saying most of the time and they could be talking trash about me in Spanish, Portugese, Japanese and Chinese for all I know. I've learned the International sign for small Asian kid drowning, though, and have had to pick one or two out of the pool before.

So, I sat there for about three hours in and out of consciousness, developing a red stripe across my stomach. It's one of the disadvantages of being single. Hetero dudes do not know how to apply sunblock to themselves. I even managed to sunburn the rim of my belly button. It was a nice time, however. I woke up about 4:00 PM and went back to my apartment and showered. I was couchridden for the rest of the night and again was in and out of consciousness until I woke up and saw that the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame ceremony was on and I remembered that Van Halen was inducted, so I watched intently, hoping for a glimpse of all that is "Diamond" David Lee Roth.

Keith Richards was inducting The Ronettes, which was pretty cool. Then, The Ronettes got up and performed a couple tunes with a stand-in Ronette for the performance and oh, there's fucking Paul Schaeffer and the Letterman band playing everything. Nothing against him, but Paul Schaeffer is fucking annoying. At this point, I was like "Oh Fuck. Is Paul Schaeffer and his band going to play Van Halen covers with a horn section?"

So, a few more inductions take place including Zach De La Rocha inducting Patti Smith and sneaking in a denunciation of George Bush and his "illegal war." I'm a fraud because I never got into Patti Smith, but her first album came out the year I was born. I should probably catch up on some of it, as she was so humble and sweet in receiving her induction and then shot out bolts of energy with her performance.

The queen of soulfood got up and sang for way too long. She bugs. At this point, I was wishing I had started the show late and could fast forward and also craving a gravy and tonic.

So, I think Van Halen was next and before they went to the commercial break, the crowd camera showed Michael Anthony and Sammy Hagar. Wha!?!?!?!?! I started bracing myself for disappointment the way I should've before I ever said "I Do" to anything and then also as I will when I am in line for The Transformers movie in July. Aim low.

Velvet Revolver comes out to induct Van Halen. First question: Where the fuck is Gene Simmons to induct them as he financed their first real demo? Second question: Who is going to perform the Van Halen tunes? After Zach De La Rocha's eloquence inducting Patti Smith, the Velvet Revolver microphone hot potato came off like a shitty International Business presentation in college...that I gave wasted with my very disappointed group while leaning on the blackboard. I got a C on it.

They finish and then VH1 showed clips of Velvet Revolver massacring, in a way of desecration, "Ain't Talking 'Bout Love." It was horrible. Then, they covered "Poundcake?" No, it was "Runaround" off of For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge and it was barely recognizable. I was just staring at the screen with my jaw on the floor. Then, they showed Sammy Van Hagar and Michael Anthony accepting the induction. It was like the Wonder Twins accepting something for the Super Friends or Janet Jackson accepting an award for Diff'rent Strokes. Just wrong. Michael Anthony even said this: "This also goes out to Gary Cherone because he was a part of Van Halen, too." Or something like that. First of all, Sammy Hagar shouldn't even be up there because he is not even eligible as part of Van Halen to be inducted. Second of all, nobody even noticed that Van Halen made an album with Gary Cherone and then was dropped from their label soon after. Beyond that, Gary Cherone can be indirectly blamed for Eddie being in rehab. The rest of the blame would rest on Eddie being crazy as fuck.

After that travesty, VH1 showed Sammy wearing an OU812 t-shirt underneath a blazer and I just thanked god he didn't have on his off-red (rocker) Cabo Wabo puffy pants on while he performed "Why Can't This Be Love" with Paul Schaeffer and his band. It finally did happen. Paul Schaeffer's horn section was playing Van Halen. Through all of this, were The Atomic Punks not available and would it be wrong to have a tribute band play rather than a band giving tribute?

So, next was R.E.M being inducted by Eddie Vedder who was very humble and eloquent like Zach De La Rocha and it was a really nice speech. It just made me think of listening to Document and Murmur over and over again on tape and that I should really put them on my iPod. Before they got with shiny happy people, they were at the very least, extremely influential and need to be heard to understand our generation's musical vernacular. They are unhateable. They also performed with their complete original lineup except for Eddie Vedder singing parts of "Man On The Moon." It was almost goosebumpable and it's why you watch this type of thing.

Irregardless, I'm assuming the Van Halen debacle is why I'm having extreme insomnia lately. Back on the Tylenol PM again. Thanks Van Halen. I mean the fucking network is VH1 as in Van Halen #1. It's just inexcusable. There wasn't even fottage of David Lee Roth via satellite while he rode a unicorn on the moon, which I guarantee you he was doing at the time.

Housekeeping...

...or posting a blog in 11 minutes.

Here are some of the search entries that got people to the blog. Some of them are also possible band names.

1. Hugh Voltage
2. drive thru headset in n out
3. hughvoltage
4. drinking green tea while taking welbutrin xl
5. maxim what was I just talking about?
6. l5 vertebra sex testicle
7. Neutrogena Age Fighter
8. skate to create bones brigade
9. Johnny Rad skate and create
10. skate wheels

Band name: L5 Vertebra Sex Testicle
Album Title: Drinking Gren Tea While Taking Welbutrin XL

Virtual Miscellanity

I think I may have a crush , regardless here is soundtrack for a crush that I'm way too old for (not in a Megan's Law way or anything) and a kickass recommended playlist for a little over an hour of life:

1. The Shins - Split Needles
2. The Decemberists - We Both go Down Together (Live)
3. Frank Black and The Catholics - All My Ghosts
4. Jeremy Enigk - City Tonight
5. Silversun Pickups - Checkered Floor
6. Radiohead - Polyethylene (Parts 1 and 2)
7. Portishead - All Mine
8. Trail of the Dead - Wasted State of Mind
9. Minus The Bear - Women We Haven't Met
10. Jason Falkner - My Lucky Day
11. The Rentals - The Cruise
12. Arctic Monkeys - Mardy Bum
13. Hot Hot Heat - Oh Goddammit
14. Placebo - Infra-Red
15. Maximo Park - Limassol
16. Earlimart - We're So Happy
17. Pinback - Tripoli
18. Death Cab For Cutie - We Looked like Giants

I'll try and get these up more so that you know what you should be listening to. It's the least I can do. Seriously, the least.

Still Here. Still Queer. Get Used To It

I just wanted to check in with myself here because I hadn't posted in a while. To tell you the truth I didn't have a lot to say and I had been busy preparing for a presentation at a conference where I got all professional on their asses...and then turned back into the usual buffoon. Here are some quotes from others that can summarize the events that transpired.


"Seriously, quit talking to her or we'll lose our discount."

"Is that your boss over there, dancing with that dude?"

"The guy with the earring and the baldhead has the biggest crush on you."

"Jauge, there is 5 minutes until our presentation is supposed to start. Do you have the presentation and where are you?"

"You were in my dream last night and all of these good things would start to happen and then you would appear as the devil. No offense."

"What is your problem with breeders?"

"You watch Battlestar Galactica? That is seriously one of the nerdiest things I have ever heard."

Okay, next thing is that Lost sucks balls now. It feels similar to the Matrix trilogy. First one, you are like oh my god. Second one, you are like, okay they can still pull it off with a dark horse move. Third one, you are like Aw crap, what a colossal waste of time. Well, Lost is there. They are dragging out the story to sell commercials and that's when things get bad. I'll start citing examples of suckage when I have more time. I'll tell you what, Twin Peaks it is not. Twin Peaks didn't even fake like it was going to give you answers to any questions, though. Wait, have I made a horrible mistake?

Last thing, with the improved weather, I'm pulling Captain and Cokes out of the closet. With a lime squozen they really spice up day drinking.

And the last last thing is that Andy Barker, P.I. is fucking great and you should have watched the MTV cut of Awesometown by now. And for the haters, Andy Richter Controls the Universe is still brilliant in my eyes.

Enjoy the youtubage while you can. Ass, Gas, Grass or Cash; no one rides for free. I have a feeling youtube is going to follow the same business lifecycle that Napster did. It will go from something free and cutting edge and awesome to a regulated piece of shit ruined by corporate America. Also, it might get Google's stock price to a number that reflects their real value. There is no excuse, the story was told a 6 years ago yesterday and we've seen it before, so buy the Civic before you lease the 5 series, dummy.

All typoss and missspellings are the fawlt of work right now. I didn't have time to edit or put ingood links.

Going Kenobi

I sat around Sunday and thought about stuff at length. I got bored of that and grabbed the wrong file from work, so I watched Star Wars. It's what nerdy dudes do on nice days. As I watched and thought about the whole dubtrilo (Double Trilogy), I had a slight epiphany about Ol' Ben. Here it is:

Obi-Wan Kenobi came up in the Jedi game pretty legit and everything was going fine until his teacher died. We'll call this traumatic event number one. He worked through it and grew a beard and found some old friends to help him get through it. He didn't really have any family that was mentioned in any of the movies. Why did I never realize that before? I totally understand, though. you would think that after his teacher died, he would be able to go to his dad and work out some of the emotional baggage that he was holding. That's really weird. The only person that had a dad in the whole dubtrilo was Luke Skywalker and then Leia in Jedi. So let's sum up stage one of Kenobi. He is doing all right after a traumatic event, family isn't really there for him, but he has some friends to kick it with and he grows a beard. Things could be worse and he wil keep on keepin' it on.

Stage two is when he starts kicking it with Anakin Skywalker. He pretty much hangs with him 24/7 while they both work on getting better at the force. Anakin hooks up with a chick and starts acting weird. Eventually turning into Darth Vader and trying to kill Obi-Wan Kenobi. That is not a good friend. Obi-Wan hacks him up a bit and saves Vader's babies. So, this is the second traumatic event: stage two of Kenobi. Still pushin' along, but it's getting a little more complicated than it's worth.

So, now Obi-Wan is running out of people to kick it with. His best friend is "dead," Yoda moved away, and all the other Jedis are dead or have joined the order of the wine and stroller crowd. So, now Obi-Wan goes underground and decides that it's just not worth the investment of time anymore, so he moves out of town and quits returning phone calls. In fact, he doesn't even really bring his celly out with him anymore. What's the point? He starts hanging around the house in his robe and occasionally going down to the Cantina. Did you notice how well they knew him down there in Episode IV? When that dude told Luke he didn't like him, Ol' Ben just handled things and no one said a word. Obviously, not the first time it's happened.

So, Ben just kicks out the rest of his life until his ol' buddy Vader fucks him over on the Death Star, but he knew it was coming and he got his kicks in while he could. So, going Kenobi may not be that bad. I'm probably going to get sued for this and can't even post a pic of Ol' Ben for fear of Lucasfilm.

Monkey Magazine

I despise the Maxim Man with the armband tattoo in the bar, especially if he is with a cute girl, but my hat is off to Dennis Publishing and their Monkey Magazine. They may have created the Maxim Man, but their new magazine is pretty neato.

I don't remember how I found this, but I'm a huge fan. The interface is really cool the way it flows like a magazine, but each section can be drilled down or links to something. Give yourself a second and try not to get frustrated. It's one click to zoom back out and to turn the page just click the bottom corner when the page starts to pull back.

There's one drawback in that it's a little cumbersome to grab this and take it into the bathroom, but for sitting down at your coffeetable it's pretty cool. It's also very Euro because it's from England, so there is Wayne Rooney rather than Payton Manning coverage. That sucks for the Maxim man, but he will be cool with it because the girls get topless. It might be time to move to England. I just don't want to move there until I learn their language. I'll start with bollocks.

OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!

Boing Boing posted a link to a news story on a bipedal dog. I normally don't make it to video stuff, but i was interested to see how this worked. It was vomit inducing amazing. I didn't know whether to be sick or impressed. It looks really weird, especially a minute in to the video where it looks like the dog is checking pay phones for forgotten change with its no arms.

Here's the link. Armless Dog

Bones Brigade

The question of "What came first? Ban This or Public Domain." came up the other day with someone and they said "God, they gotta put those movies out on DVD." They are on DVD and not enough people know. What they really need is a box set with all the Bones Brigades and the soundtrack included. That's right. You can actually purchase the soundtrack with such Johnny Rad hits as "Skate To School" or was it "Skate To Create?" Regardless, by the end of the song, Johnny Rad has convinced me that "skating is guh-rayit."

Some of the stuff will get dated like Tommy Guerrero jumping driveways in the Sunset District on a board that looks like a condom cut out of a piece of plywood stolen from a construction site. Or, you may see a lapper or "The Bird" in the background of some of the scenes or giant two-toned wheels.

On the other hand, you can see the birth of street skating with Rodney Mullen busting kickflips while us kids were doing acid drops and handplants. My final point? Bones Brigade III has the dopest collection of Air Jordan's in it, ever, and also happens to be like the Led Zeppelin IV of skate videos. The Chin ramp scene would be like the "Stairway To Heaven" of skateboard scenes. That may be controversial, but I'd argue it.

Oh, here are the links.

Bones Brigade Video Show (1984)
Bones Brigade II: Future Primitive (1985)
Bones Brigade III: The Search For Animal Chin (1987) SPOILER ALERT! They never find him.
Bones Brigade IV: Public Domain (1988)
Bones Brigade V: Ban This (1989)

Bones Brigade Video Tunes

Speak & Spell & TV Hell

This is fun. Click on the pic to go speak n spell. This could come in handy for anyone stupid enough to be on Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader. Jeff Foxworthy and stupid whitetrash. Hmmmm. Add corndog and it would be just like being at the Alameda County Fair when a Garth Brooks impersonator is the main stage entertainment.

When I saw the commercial during the OC finale (No Judging), I looked at a picture of my family and I in the future (timetravel) and I started to disappear from the picture like the McFlys in Back To the Future...and then my handed started turning transparent...and then the music of Huey Lewis filled my head and I stopped being angry by thinking about the Power of Love. What was I just talking about?

You Gotta Work

Some work gripes this morning...afternoon. I didn't know that it was noon already. There is a person at work that schedules me in meetings to the point that sometimes it is hard to get stuff done. It would be no problem if we were getting stuff done, but it seems to be just a reason to go through Powerpoints and play pretend business. I was sitting in one this morning and it hit me of what it was starting to remind me of: fucking tea parties with my little sister growing up.

Little girls have tea parties. I have four or five sisters, so the seat gets put back down, I reference toxic shock syndrome and I know when to just leave something alone on a monthly basis. They all hit it at the same time for a while and it was a fucking war zone in the house growing up. I also have good produck in my shower and I am very comfortable with panties in the laundry without being too comfortable in a pervy trenchcoat kind of way. I wonder if kids have green tea or soy latte parties now.

Anyway, being in these meetings feel the same way that that did. You are kind of humoring the person in charge of the meeting and writing down notes that you will most likely throw away when you get back to your desk. It's a lot like drinking water out of tiny cups at a tiny table with your little sister while you stick your pinky out. I can't believe she was going off about how horrible I was to her yesterday at my niece's birthday. Yes, she was duct taped to the refrigerator one day and repeatedly thrown off of our loft onto a pile of pillows, but everything was methodically planned ahead of the time and she was never in harm's way. I guess I used to hide her in my hockey bag from my mom, too, but that was just a game that we played.

This morning in the meeting I noticed that I avoided eye contact with anyone in the meeting at all costs and just stared down intently and jotted down some things a for a presentation that I have to give in San Diego (4 vistors from SD to the blog in the last week, that's a shoutout) in a couple of weeks. So, we got our agendas with 13 points and 13 sub-points outlined on them to inventory some things in a particular building at work. It should have had one point that said "Inventory Things," but instead it's been spread out into two months of meetings when I could have carried out this task on a Saturday morning in the time it would take to drink a cup of coffee.

The king of the "teaparty" is dubbed Project Manager and I am part of the "Steering Committee." I went to that link right there and read the first line of my new responsibilities and lost interest. It sounds really nautical, but I didn't see anything about sterns, afts, rudders or pirates, so I'm not really interested. Don't you have to have an inkling of desire to be on a committee? I was never asked to be on this committee nor told that I was on it until I saw it in the agenda. What if NAMBLA was like "we are pleased to inform you that you are now a member of our esteemed association?" Or worse, the Republican party. Fuck that, there are rules.

Because of this involuntary assignation, I am actively boycotting this steering committee through a barrage of disinformation consisting of opposing committees and groups that I am already a member of. I'm also getting endorsements from allied committees such as the IBTC and the OHPGC. That is a pretty deep cut inside joke right there.

Anyway, I guess I'm just bitching about a colossal waste of time and a dislike of people going through the motions of working without actually doing it. Sometimes it's just better to shut up and finish your shit rather than creating ppts and agendas with bulletpoints and pulling people away from doing work so that you can avoid it yourself. I don't play well with others.

I'm such a hypocrite. I just wrote this while everyone else was probably working and now I have to sit here to try and figure out why the traits that I abhor in people the most are the traits that dominate my personality.

YouTubed

Found this when I was YouTubing friends' names. The title is Teachers Rap About Teaching High School. It came after watching the Mini-Mall Rap commercial and Ms. Peachez. Add her as a myspace friend. There is a little Mr. Belding to one of those dudes in the video.

Oh fuck it. Here's Ms. Peachez with "In Da Tub."

Karaoke pwn4ge

Last night after work I felt that I needed to let off a little steam. After two drinks, I went home and changed and walked to my local bar in the rain. It was like a fucking truck stop mixed with the cantina from Star Wars. Just a bunch of craggly fuckers sittin' around talkin' about how they couldn't find jobs so they were going to move to Southern California to find some work. It was like a knockoff version of Grapes of Wrath. It would be called Raisins of Ire.

Anyway, I had a beer and put in a ton of music in the jukebox and played music trivia for a bit. Then, the karaoke guy rolled in. I felt obligated to sing some Van Halen because I bugged him about getting some in his book forever. Dude, now he has...Oh, I also got into a "Don't Call Me Dude" conversation with some old fucker in the bar last night. I debated and berated until he lost interest. I used terms like American vernacular to scare him away from the argument. Anyway, the guy has everything from "In The Air Tonight" to "Unchained" to probably "Pac-Man Fever" by Buckner-Garcia. Before going to that link you should get a Pac-Man Fever vaccination, seriously.

A few bar friends eventually showed up and the dude who sings Dio and The Scorpions. He is awesome. His wife smelled like weed. The night turned into a semi-bender of Ketel and sodas and I realized I would be late to work the next day right as I got up to sing "Jump" by Van Halen. It's been a while and there may still be a ban on me singing this at the Carlos Club since the fireplace-over the couch-head on ceiling tile incident of the early 2000s.

Well, as luck would have it, there may be another ban on me singing this song at my local bar. It's like a diminished chord in the 14th century or something. So, the song was going fine, my voice was a little blown out, but it was working. I saw a stray chair out of the corner of my eye and kind of maneuvered it away from a table while I did the David Lee Roth shoulder thing a couple of times. It was dark, people weren't noticing what I was up to because I'm like a ninja. Catlike. Then, in that chorus right before the solo, I took a running start and jumped off the chair attempting to do the splits. The chair slid a bit on the tile floor and I don't think anyone knew that there was a ceiling fan in there until my hand hit it and it fired me right back down to the ground, landing flat on my ass.

So, there I am on the ground next to a knocked over chair with some scratches on my hand from the fan and a bruised ass while the karaoke version of the solo is going. It was my Pullitzer moment, the way it epitomized my life at the moment. Go ahead read into that. I realized I looked like an ass, so I got up and propped the chair back up and did two more jumps off of it. I am nursing karaoke-related injuries, however, today.

This is what I do when I should be sleeping.

Dream Police

First off, what kind of place blows cold air into your office in the morning and warm air in the afternoon? It's their fault when I'm not productive because of this.

So, I woke up this morning a little loopy because a)I wake up too early for humans and b)I was up late last night because Lost moved to 10:00 PM. What a shitty episode last night, too.

Anyway, I had woke up with something super funny running through my head, but had no one to tell it to. I didn't write it down and got in the shower and ready for work and it was lost. That's a downside to waking up before your brain has woken up. The next thing that I remembered this morning has stuck with me all day for some reason.

The last dream that I remember took place on my parents' front lawn. I was out front and a monkey smeared in blood fell off of the roof. The blood was clotty and filled the monkeys fur. It looked at me and I somehow knew it had AIDS and was scared to death of it touching me. Then, a crow landed right next to it and I was yelling at the crow to get away from it. The crow looked at me and then stuck it's beak into the monkey and pulled away a strip of bloody monkey flesh. I woke up super scared after that.

The questions are: was it a scene from a David Lynch movie? and Does this mean that I should check out therapy? Regardless, it is still fairly disturbing me all day today.

Boris Vallejo is...

In your Internets. Clogging up your pipelines with centaurs.
Boris Vallejo Gallery

24 Hours x 3

Fuckin' A. In the last 72 hours, chronologically:
-my neighbor showed me two pics on his phone of a lady that he has been having sex with. One was bare boobies and the other one was her butt. He said she said that he could show it to his friends. Whah?!?!?!?
-I dropped the soap in the shower at the gym. It hit the ground, denting one side, and skipped out of the stall. Wet soap is slippery. Pro Tip. I had to reach out to get it and then stood back up, but the standing motion was interrupted by the shower handle smashing my head in. I briefly checked for blood, but had to settle for a lump that hurts any time my head drops below my hips. Don't ask why I am lowering my head below my hips.
-I dropped off my second to last divorce document. I am very close to being a free man. Finally, I can start dating again without legally cheating. I don't drink Cristal, but this may be an event that would be worth it. When I get my Office Depot Divorce certificate, it is going to be a nice day, indeed.
-I saw myself in dark socks and underwear and had the urge to take a picture because I was cracking myself up looking at myself.
-Shaved off a beard that I kind of liked Monday morning. It was really soft and nice. I looked mature.

MedCab For Cutie

I went through the left side of my medicine cabinet to reorganize the stuff chronologically in regards to how I use it throughout the day and decided to document what is in there, as well as why. We will be going from left to right so please follow along. I would really recommend clicking on it and viewing all of the associated notes on my flickr.


1. Right Guard Sport, Active Scent, Gel - This is new and goes on clear, wet and cold. I don't like it, but until recently, I couldn't find my old brand. It went on white and warm and relatively dry. I know where to get the old kind now, so fuck Target for not carrying it.

2. Jack Black Beard Lube - This stuff is really good. I have to slip into the beauty supply store to procure this stuff. I usually grab a thing of rough paste when I'm in there, too. I then have to stash the pink bag that it comes in like you have to stash the black porno bag with gold wine grapes on it that they give you at the liquor store. A couple of the selling points are that it goes on clear, it moisturizes and makes shaving easier. I use the same blade for like two months, so I need really good stuff like this around. It's expensive, though, it ain't Old Spice.

3. Neutrogena Post Shave Lotion - This is pretty standard stuff that can be found at Target when you buy toilet paper and paper towels. It just helps smoove your face a bit before work.

4. Neutrogena Age Fighter Face Moisturizer - Hedging bets and filling crows feet. Mom gave me some good traits and mom and grandpa gave me some nice crows feet. Plus, given the chance to fight anything at 6:45 AM sounds good to me.

5. Vaseline Nightly Renewal - I don't use this much, I think it came saran wrapped to something else when I bought it. I should probably put it in my travel kit.

6. Redken Rough Paste - This is the shit. You have to be careful to not just rub it into your scalp because you will burn yourself because it fucking holds and texturizes. It's a cheaper alternative to Sumo Wax and I know how to work with it. I love this stuff.

7. Bed Head, Hard To Get Texturizing Paste - I use this if I ever run out of rough paste. This produck is more like the paste that you used and may have eaten in kindergarten. Works pretty well and doesn't look to greasy.

8. Tian Wang Bu Xin Dan - My mom gave me this stuff when I was bummed and going through a divorce. I was too stubborn to take any other meds and this may have helped. I looked it up on the Interwebs and it may be helping with nocturnal ejaculate or premature ejaculation, it was a bad translation so I'm not sure. It seems to work when I need it without making me crazy. It's good for my yin apparently.

9. Tylenol PM - Helps me sleep when I can't. I live by a train and some nights it is hard too sleep. Had a few bad interactions with this stuff; you have to be careful. Also, if you are drinking, do not take this at all. Your skin will start to show signs of jaundice as your liver starts to experience some difficulties. I'm not saying that my cheeks progressively started turning orange when I took this for a month or that I would go to work with my shirt on inside out and my zipper down, but I bet it could happen.

10. Multi For Him - Dudes need vitamins.

11. 100% Vitamin E - Dudes need vitamins for their skin. Sometimes it makes my tats puffy.

12. Welbutrin XL - When I was going through a divorce, my doctor gave me sex talks and a prescription for these. He told me that they would make me happy and quit smoking. Because of Aldous Huxley, I thought that it would be cheating to take a pill to be happy and instead chose to roam the earth in search of happiness. I'm not saying it worked, but at least I wasn't cheating and the Tian Wang Bu Xin Dan or a soccer game could usually get me through the day without it. I still smoke, but am working on it. If you want some Welbutrin, let me know. I think there is some Zoloft in my medicine cabinet, too.

13. Flexiril - I slipped a disc in my L5 vertebrae that looks like a bag of heroin in an MRI. Sometimes it blocks nerves to my right leg and makes me really uncomfortable and numb. When that happens, I take one of these and drool and watch children's TV shows. Before I take one, it's like a teenager taking acid for the first time. I get all prepared and have a thing of water close, a remote control, and some trail mix in case I need a snack while I am under. Drop this in my drink and I am yours.

14. Ibuprofen - Also known as Vitamin Saturday. Dudes need vitamins.

15. Motrin - Again, this is related to my L5. When it hurts bad, this makes things feel better. Shit puts me out, though. It's just the same as taking 8 Advil, so you can recreate it without a prescription.

That's it. That's the little man behind the curtain. Screams metro, Doant It?

Santum, Datum, Erratum

Based on those word structures, the plural form of scrotum would be scrota. I only thought of that because I've been sitting in my chair at work smashing mine, unbeknownst to myself, for the last hour and didn't realize it until I got up.

This happens on long drives sometimes. It used to happen between Chico and the Bay Area a lot when I was in a long distance relationship. I would only realize it once I stepped out of the car because my body has not evolved to register the pain of sitting on a testicle for an hour and a half while driving. Someone who knows stuff should probably check out that phenomena, as well as collection of phenomenum. That word might be made up.

In unrelated news, I went to a homebuying workshop put on through work last night and it felt like sitting on the aforementioned for an hour and a half. Does that make it related news? Here is the skinny. I will need to find a second income to incorporate into my life if I ever even think about buying a condo in the area that I like living in. Some would call this a girlfriend or S/O. So, now on top of everything else, a companion needs to be smart, witty, laugh at the right things, stable, possibly English, shorter than me in heels, have good hair, be very quick and resourceful, possibly good at soccer, willing to live with a freak and sometimes wear heels with a bikini. Small things, but necessary.

Add heels and bikini to the phenomenum list.

A few things:
I finally put a copy of Sparta, Threes on my iPod and gave it a few listens. It's pretty good. It's funny how you hear all the At The Drive In stuff missing from The Mars Volta and vice versa. Some of it starts to sound like U2, it's a little weird. Also, I'm still behind and haven't listened to the new Mars Volta, which I heard is a trip.







Also, Silversun Pickups, I'm super late on this, but really dug the single and finally put the whole album on my iPod and listened to the whole thing. Sounds like SDRE in some spots, which isn't a bad thing. Really cool stuff.








Also, there is a director's cut of O Valencia! by The Decemberists on youtube, posted by Pitchfork that is pretty good. It's ten minutes long and I think Crispin Hellion Glover (his web site looks like CrispingLover.com see also TheRapist.com for therapist links) is playing Colin Meloy. Think the Smooth Criminal mini-movie if it was filmed in Portland, OR. Hooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!

Kool-Aid Scans

My mom wanted me to scan her a bunch of Kool-Aid packets, but they are getting harder to find. When I was in college, I would by 5 packets for a dollar and drink the shit out of the stuff until I developed an ulcer. It couldn't have been the whiskey and cigarettes,. It had to be the Kool-Aid. Anyway, here's a link to a gang of Kool-Aid Scans on a tripod site. I apologize about that.

Hmmmm. You should have this bookmark.

I just got an urge to listen to Bron-Y-Aur Stomp off of Led Zeppelin III and didn't have the opportunity to go home and reopen the old 4 disc box set, nor do I have Zeppelin III on tape anymore, so I'm very fortunate for knowing about this. Use it while you can, it's 1001 albums streaming from the '50s to now. It's really awesome and super great at work. If you could create playlists or shuffle, it would be better, but it will do for now. Or, if you need work music just put on one of those dentist office stations that plays the same ten songs every hour. I did an internship like that during the Fuel, Puddle of Mudd period and it drove me crazy.

Side Note. Pocket Symphony

As a side note, the new Air album is awesome chill music. Although, it's too cold to go lay by the pool and listen to this while reading some pretentious book amidst flailing kids on floaty toys as a visual; I'll be looking forward to it.

"One Hell of a Party" is really dope. Combining this and Zero 7 would be like combining a Vicodin and a Glennfiddich, over.

Things I Find...Interesting

So, I just went to dispose of cigarette butts in a trash bin in the shopping center of sorrow next to my apartment complex and saw a folded up note on the ground and picked it up. The scan is right there. Dude! WTF?!?!?! It's from a book with a quote by Moses Ben Jacob Meir ibn Ezra. He is a Hebrew philosopher and I couldn't figure out which book it is from. I'm imagining it is a required reading text from a local high school. The degradation of the world is afoot. Here is a list of things related to the shopping center of sorrow:

1. Little kid who rips off the San Francisco Chronicle bin causing them to not put papers in there anymore.

2. Discarded porn DVD covers put in the garbage.

3. A reggae festival ticket stub.

4. Abandoned shopping carts galore.

5. Two RVs that do not move.

6. A chinese food place that you should never eat at.

7. A cobbler/postoffice.

8. A boat with a blue tarp over it.

9. Now, this note.

I think new dishwasher or not, it might be time to plan a move. I've got to sit, though, and wait for some paper work because I found out that in a community property state, it's very hard to get things done when you are legally married. It kind of sucks. So, I will roll my Honda Civic and live in my ghetto apartment amidst the other half. For Lost fans, it's like there is a row of apartments that are ghetto representing the island and two-bedroom, 1.5 Million dollar Eichlers representing the rest of the world. Poverty has never felt so expensive and exclusive.

God, that's a fucked up note.

Since Friday

Went to work Mardi Gras party at Noon on Friday and got back to the office at two. Looked at my computer and decided any shred of productive fire had been doused by two Coors Lights and two Coronas. I was also subtley aware of a new Gluten free beer from Anheuser-Busch. It's called Redbridge and is lumped in with their niche brands. They own everything. Here are some other brands that they make: Anheuser World Lager, which apparently is made here and imported to Europe, I guess. Drink the beer of the country you hate, Europeans. Bare Knuckle Stout is another brand, but I've never seen it. Rolling Rock is in there. Never heard of it. Bud Extra and ZiegenBock are the last two. Since the rediscovery of Lowenbrau, it may be time to seek out and find these wonderful brands, I'm sure. I have fallen in love with Budweiser Select, so I firmly pledge my allegiance to the WifeBeater flag when I'm not drinking Ketel and sodas with lime. So delicious.

Anyway, packed up my office and headed home, stopping to buy some of the aforementioned Budweiser Select, and played some FIFA '07 to get up to date with the current season. I'm playing as Arsenal in Manager mode and I'm averaging about 8 goals a game so I'm going to increase the difficulty level pretty soon to Semi-Pro because that's how I roll. Four beers later, I made plans to go downtown with a friend and hit some of the usuals realizing that if I had one beer, my car was having a slumber party with downtown, so I needed to make sure I didn't park in the Farmer's Market parking lot. A person will do that about once and never do it again. Talked to girls wearing barely anything and managed to offend two or three. One conversation that I'm rather proud of went like this:

Girl: Do you play soccer?
Me: Yes, why?
Girl: Well, you're wearing a soccer jersey. Did you play today?
Me: No, last Wednesday was my last game.
Girl: Are you playing later tonight?
Me: No. (At this point, I realize where she is going and scramble for a comeback.)
Me: Do you plan on having sex later tonight?
Girl: What?!
Me: 'Cuz you are dressed like a slut.
Girl: (Looks at my drinking partner) Your friend is cute, but he's an asshole.

We left after meeting some people from the O.C. (the place where the airport is, not the show) and discussed armband tattoos or something. I'm only pointing it out because I believe that's how one of them described themselves. It was vile.

Went to the English pub downtown and played five bucks of the best jukebox down there while drinking two pints of Boddington's and then grabbed a cab and called it a night.

I was tore up the next day so could not enjoy the beautiful day as I intended and had a search and rescue mission for my car. Organized for a ride and went to breakfast where my skillet with sausage and mushrooms was subbed out for sausage and onions. It was gross, but I got a chocolate milk with breakfast because I realized it had been like three years since I had had a glass of milk and for some reason when the waitress asked, chocolate milk came out. Not out of the waitress and not actual chocolate milk, but the word came out of my mouth to order it.

I went home and watched In the City on BBC America and loved it. It's my new The OC. I'm also realizing that I really want an English girlfriend now. I'll even eat weirdly named English candy and canned meats to get one.

Went to bed at nine and woke up too early on Sunday. Went out to my parents' house for a compilation birthday party for relatives, but I don't remember which one's were having birthdays and gave some old Star Wars toys, in their original packaging, to my nephew. I realized I did not need a lightsaber anymore...unless there was an earthquake and my flashlight was broken. Shit! I might have to go buy a new one now that I thought of that.

Anyway, I've got some Uncle Dean stories on that and a blood on the curb when I drove up story; it was good to see everyone. I'm kind of getting into being an Uncle myself now and don't want the kids to remember me as weird or drunk when they get older. I know why the caged bird sings. So, now I hold them and talk to them and help them out with stuff. We drink root beer together and can hang out now. Dean story and bloody lady story later. I'm seriously about to pee myself.

I'll finish this later. What a waste of a blog.

Don't Ask Why I Think This is Awesome

I'm surprised my family didn't invent this. The divorced ring from the divorced jewelry company. This is a quote from the site " We created a line of rings with a separation in the normal 'never-ending circle'. This symbolizes a point in ones life when some type of separation came, whether by divorce or by the loss of a loved one." To tell the truth, I find it a little morbid, but could respect the idea.

The only thing is that I can't stop imagining some caricature of a cat lady sipping a chardonnay telling her story in a biker bar while trying to get a piece of some construction worker dressed up as a guy on a Harley. Or, for the ladies, Milhouse's dad.

Upon further investigation, there is an apparel section which is sadly lacking a shirt that says "If You can read this, the bitch fell off." I love that shirt not for what it stands for, but for it's lameness. There are shirts that say "Divorce Happens","Divorced and Loving It", and "I Got Out of the Box." Again, a little disappointing that they don't have a shirt that says "Got Divorce."

Just got a lightbulb in my head and these shirts would make for brilliant C-rags. Pro Tip!

New Technique. Take Note.

Leveraging technology to its fullest is how I roll. Consolidation of technology is how I don't roll. I refuse to talk into a PalmPilot because it feels like talking into a banana and makes you look crazy. A bluetooth headset is for in the car by yourself, like singing, because of the crazy factor again. If you walk down the street talking to yourself with your bluetooth on, you should be kicked in the guy balls or girl balls for being a jackass.

I think I'm creating a stance in support of the specialization of tools with one exception in the form of The Leatherman. I think the evolution of cool shit goes like Fire, the wheel, the cotton gin, Swiss army knife, magic shell, string cheese, Star Wars, cell phone in a briefcase and then the Leatherman. The Pontiac Trans-Am and Burt Reynolds fit in there somewhere, too.

So, why was I ranting and tangenting on this? Oh, I got a whiteboard for my fridge and will write stuff that I need to do or pickup at the grocery store, Trader Joe's or hair produck store (do not call it a beauty supply store). It seemed inefficient to write all of it down again, so I take a picture of it with my phone and transfer it via Bluetooth to my laptop at work and then print it out. I think it's quit Brilliente. That's Mexican for brilliant. Here is today's list:

Go Here (Do This)

There is a great art exhibit in Culver City at Corey Helford Gallery. Juxtapoz had something about it in their blog. It's kind of awesome. The concept is to take a paint-by-numbers painting and then paint your own stuff on it. According to the Juxtapoz blog, all the paintings will be put on eBay to be auctioned off for charity. Awwwwwwwwwwwwww.

Holy Snap (Another YouTube moment)

When I first saw The Wall, I was on acid or mushrooms like you are supposed to be. When I first saw Fantasia I was just drunk and I wish that it was more like this:

Genesis Reunion

The Police opened the Grammy's last night and were awesome. No brainer. Yeah, it's kinda the Sting show, but Stewart Copeland is awesome even when he was dressed up like a college history professor into sci-fi and prog rock. Can't wait for that tour.

Then you have DLR (please light the van halen torch RothArmy) back with Van Halen, but how can we ignore the fact that Genesis has reunited and is playing a free show in Rome to end their world fuckin' tour? Here is a little reminder of the genius and absolute distillation of the band Genesis once Peter Gabriel left the band and they had such hits as "Illegal Alien","I Can't Dance", and "Land Of Confusion." We shall not forget. You gotta love the Bugle Boys reference at the beginning of the I Can't Dance video. I think it competed against "Stay The Night" by Chicago at the MTV video music awards that year.

The Weak Minded Exploiting The Weak Minded (American Idol is Back)

The irresistibly, rubber-neck inducing, travesty we call American Idol has started again. Beyond Ryan Seacrest, being more annoying than a dentist performing a job interview with you while he polishes your teeth, I can't figure out if the Paula Abdul (check break.com) mess was just too generate publicity. So, after the show struck gold with its reject editions of the auditions, they now drag it out into two weeks of rejects with a smattering of decent karaoke. Watching misguided and oversheltered people from all corners of the earth...and the Midwest cry is just depressing. Yet, I keep on watching.

Meanwhile, I have my third cold of this year and it's driving me nuts, even though I refer to it as a sever case of allergies at work and then cough all over the people that come into my office to ask me questions. Worst joke ever was overheard at work today and I think it was even said for my benefit. Here it is: " Wow! Paper jam? How about some paper peanut butter to go with that?" It was awful.

Next, I found this pad of paper from when I was off of work for the holidays and it has a bullet pointed list on it.
-Body Double. - I watched this on Comcast On Demand and must say it was awesome. Meleanie Griffith was actually hot at one time and the stalker was the good guy. A murder takes place with a drill and there is a really cool house in the Los Angeles Hills in the movie. It was almost like David Lynch at some points.

-The Odyssey. - I tried reading Ulysses for the second time and got hung up again, so decided to read The Odyssey again to help me understand James Joyce more thoroughly. On top of that, I will probably have to read Gravity's Rainbow again, as both are based on the Odyssey. Gravity's Rainbow is the bomb, yo. It's a desert island book for sure. The reason The Odyssey is on the list, though, is that the mini-series was on the Sci-Fi channel while I was off and I DVRd it and watched the whole horrible mess starring Armand Assante from Fatal Instinct.

-Future World. - Futureworld was awesome. it was what people in the 70s thought the future would be like. The people of the 60s were thinking folding cars, pill meals and Jetsons. The Disco era was thinking about nothing, but clones and theme parks. Look for a young cola-bottled Peter Fonda, Gwyneth Paltrow's mom and Yul Brenner dressed up as a cowboy. We'll also see if it doesn't really happen like The Lorax is going to. This is one of those movies that you have seen in the video store since they were owned by mom and pop's and there were three sections: one for Betamax, one for VHS and one for porn behind some beads. There also might have been a laser disc section.

-Rocky Balboa. - This movie was fucking awesome. Worth ten dollars if you go see it in the movies or happen to know an awards screener and can watch his copy. I felt like a kid watching Rocky IV all over again at the end. While Jason Schwartzman's mom wasn't in this last installment, they added the guy from Heroes, which was pretty cool.

-The Counter. - If you are not eating at this restaurant, you may suck. Burgers, beers, indie rock, sweet potato fries, and shakes with some Bailey's in 'em is delicious. I also talked the bartender into breading me up some pineapple rings and frying them. Different, but genius when paired with an apricot dipping sauce.

-Lightnote Coffee. - While I don't like to reward the elimination of the local coffee house, I do like to reward consistency in a cup of coffee. The temperature has come way down since litigous idiots started pouring coffee in their laps, but some freshly ground Lightnote coffee from Starbuck's is my favorite. As a consolation, I make it at home most of the time, so I get it hotter and for less than $1.35 a cup. Also, their breakfast sandwiches are great for a hangover.

-Rolos. - Santa brought me some and eating one brought back memories of that old Rolo's commercial with Rolos rolling all over the place. Don't forget about the Rolo, lest ye be forgotten. By the way, the commercial link isn't the commercial memory, but you gotta love youtube. Pray with me that youtube does not end up like Napster going from awesome to n'awesome.

I still didn't talk about my new electric toothbrush, my moustache that I grew, or the Aggrolites, but trust me, all were awesome.

Let Me Be The First To Say...

Armed And Famous is awesome. There is only one way that it could be better besides full frontal nudity and that is having Steve Guttenberg as part of the show. Who droppped the ball on that one? They have Erik "Ponch" Estrada on the show so it makes sense. Actually, a step further would be to put together a show just like this called X-Cops and have it be all guys who played cops on TV. I'm kind of an idea guy.

Highlights of the debut episode are as follows:
Jack Osbourne and guns. He's a really good shot.
Latoya calling Jackie and name dropping her bothers including Michael as if he take her call.
Latoya Jackson name dropping Mr. Chou's in the same sentence as Spago.
The super hot cop from Muncie, Indiana that got paired up with Erik Estrada.
The starstruck, crack dealing grandma who keeps calling Erik Estrada Ponch.
Trish Stratus getting tazed. A blind person would get way more out of that scene than I did.

All in all, nobody has pulled a jackass move yet, but we'll see if Tawny Kitaen shows up.

Aluminum Foil Hat Theory #1

First, everyone is talking to themselves at work today. It's a little unsettling and weird.

Second, I have not slept through the night in a while now and wake up super sweaty every night and cold. I'm calling out a Whitley Strieber played by Walkenesque abduction by aliens a la Communion. Super weird dreams, too. This is the part where I wake up tomorrow and refuse to leave my room as I metamorphasize into a giant silverfish.

Third, conspiracy theory #1: The reason that there is always a line in the In N Out Burger drive-thru is because they pay people to sit in line all day to make it look like they are always busy. It's a pretty basic concept that can be seen all over metropolitan areas in the form of the velvet rope. In order to get busy you need to be busy. Nobody wants to go somewhere where nobody else goes anymore. Look what happened to Arby's. So, to the haters who don't believe this to be true, go ahead and sit out there one day and mark down license plate numbers, but I'll let you know ahead of time, that sometimes the drive-thru line new cars are brought in by corporate.

Finally, for the single man's fortress of solitude, a tv that can be tuned in to someone's prescription makes a ton of sense. Yes, when other people came over to visit, it may be polite to dial it in to their prescription, but a prescription tv would be awesome for the individual when watching the shows that he watches when no one else is around.

Vast Indifference

Last week, I found out that I was still "legally" married. It was a little unsettling, but the ex is being very cooperative and we are getting along through it at this point. There are small under the breath verbal jabs at each other, but that's to be expected. It's due to a feeling of indifference. That's the part that lets you know that you are getting over it. At the same time, it stings a little bit because you realize all of the stuff that was between you two is pretty much dead. Beyond that, the marriage officially went over two years, so I don't feel so bad about it any more, however I feel bad about all of the "technical" cheating that I partook in.

The next thing is that fucking Bud Light commercial that my friends and I invented three years ago at the first domestic macro-brewed beer festival. It's the beernata - A pinata filled with pills, airplane bottles of booze and can beer. First of all, I realize, someone must have come up with this before we did. Nothing is truly original, but still.

Finally, I think I'm going to go to the Palo Alto Library tonight and here are the requirements for a library card. It looks like a pretty weak library considering Palo Alto Poverty is $90K a year, but whatevs, it's a library with free books to read that have been in multitudes of bathrooms and are covered with fecally tainted airborne pathogens. Note that the limit of books is "all that you carry" with a 100 book limit. Wait...What about an Internet service called Bookflix that let's you put books in your queue and then send you books that you read and send back. Negatives- shipping would be a little more and turnaround would be slower depending on the reader. Positives - no piracy. In fact, my ex-sister-in-law or supposed-to-be-ex-sister-in-law kind of did this anyway with Barnes & Noble by reading and returning books with a week or two. Shady.

Awesome Youtube search

Youtubing "Ghost Ride The Whip"

Also related is an article on sfgate detailing the two ghostriding the whip-related fatalities of 2006. One in Stockton and one in Modesto. Proof that there is nothing to do in the valley. Hyphy ain't easy that's for sure. Make sure you stay with the article to the end where Snoop talks about sideshows becoming the "ghetto NASCAR."

Oh, snap. My new external harddrive from Buy.com just arrived. It took no time at all and using Google checkout, I got 320 GB for a C-note.

Now, a couple of other things real quick. I don't think Erin Gray has a myspace page, but if she did, I would add her as a friend. James Bond marathons make the day go by a lot faster.

Nothing Hotter

Than this...

Rockin' Ray & The Frisbee Dogs

Frisbee dogs are awesome. Here's some pics of Rockin Ray and the Frisbee Dogs.

Good news this morning:
$16 Million for a season. That's like a million a game that he'll play. I'm going to go out and get a Fremont A's hat as soon as possible. Yahoo Bonds Story

We will fight your bombs with our bees and your biological weapons with our llamas. This explains my helper monkey dream last night. Yahoo! llama story. On a side note, if I ever raised llamas on a ranch, I would call my ranch Lorenzo's Llamas...and it would be awesome.

Dude, this sucks. Yahoo! condom story

Not news, but everyone should be reading Mark Morford. Here's a link to this week's article.

To work.

How To Be Awesome: Chapter 1

Go to work at 7:00 in the morning clutching a plastic Safeway bag. Dock your laptop and power it up and then go into the break room with your plastic Safeway bag. Place your bag on the counter and start making coffee for the office. Only make ten 6 oz. cups because if you make twelve you risk getting grounds in the coffee and that just ruins it for everybody like Herpes did in 1978.

While you stand in the break room with gloves still on watching the coffee drip-drip-drip, acknowledge your co-workers with light conversation regarding how fucking cold it is, the duration of the week left before Friday and whether you did or did not bring a lunch AKA "What's in the bag?"

When asked about the bag, reply "Oh, that's my lunch. I almost forgot about it." While the person is still watching, take two Diet Cokes out of it and place them in the door of the refrigerator and place the bag in the garbage. Exit the room immediately and log in to your laptop and start work for the day.

By following this routine repeatedly, co-workers will fear you and expect your manifesto within twelve months. If within said twelve months, you decide to distribute your manifesto via the company e-mail, send this:

My 2007 Manifesto By Hugh Voltage

1 lb. lean Ground Beef

Salt and Pepper to taste

Hot Sauce

1 large Red Onion chopped

1 can (16 0z.) Refried Beans

1 can (4 oz.) Green Chiles chopped

2 cups Cheddar Cheese shredded

1 cup Monterey Jack Cheese shredded

1 lb. Mission® Tortilla Triangles Chips

1 large Red or Green Bell Pepper chopped

1 cup Sour Cream

1 cup ripe Black Olives pitted

3/4 cup Taco Sauce

Recipe Instructions:

1. Cook ground beef until brown, drain fat and season to taste. Add 2 to 3 drops of hot sauce and onion. Spread beans in a large 9"x13" rectangular oven-proof dish and top with cooked meat. Sprinkle with green chiles, both cheeses and taco sauce. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes in a 400 degree F oven.
2. Remove from oven and garnish with black olives, sour cream and bell pepper. Serve with Mission® Tortilla Triangles around the edges of the dish.

Do not actually make this recipe. It's awful. If you do make it for the pure thrill of following instructions with a semi-predictable outcome, half the cheese portion.

The Burning Smell Lets You Know That The Condom Is Working

Being a single and safe individual, contraception and prophylaction are of interest. This, however, is not. It is the spray-on condom. Thank you Gizmodo via Digg. As a bonus, here is the page translated.

So, let's see "Soon there is no more reason to rather make it without." That's good because now I rather make it without, currently. Next, "The new condom comes from the spray can and adapts to each member optimally." So, it's like Weight-watchers where they customize a member's weight enhancement program because they are just a curvy BBW right now and don't really need to lose the weight because they are fine just the way they are, but why not just try and even look better. Is there an acronym for BBMs? Apparently not, unless it is a supergroup with 2/3 of Cream in it.

Here's more from the translated site: "The advantages of the spray condom are obvious: it is easily and fast applicable, adapts to each Penisgrösse and form individually and offers apart from stretcher comfort, optimal protection with the sexual intercourse." So, first penisgrosse is so true, they are just not good looking. A penis kind of looks like a turkey neck. Dude, stretcher comfort sounds awesome. Hammock comfort would probably be a step above that, but I'd take stretcher comfort.

And here is the best part: "Still condom testers are looked for, which already gained experience in handling condoms. Prospective customers can announce themselves on this web page anonymous."

Spray rubber on your penis in the name of science? I could think of worse things to do with a penis. One thing would be to rub it on a toilet seat. That's how you pick up STDs.

Back On This Blog

I'm going to start this blog again. The digs need some serious work, but I will, hopefully, get some time to dust off my dynamic html skills from 1997 and clean it up a little bit and start posting again about everything from being STD-free (so awesome) to happy, positive and freakish things that start happening around me, like my experience with the boneless buffalo wing drought of Seattle in October of 2006. It's crazy that Seattle is such a great city and only 27 people live there. I mean, shit, they have a Monorail and a Space Needle. What more could people want? Seriously, it's my number two city to live in if the Bay Area wasn't so super stellar. I would like a space needle, locally, though.

Also, on a space needle tip, my sister outclassed me by a hundred times by paying to go up on the space needle and then immediately taking a dump as soon as she got to the top. I fucking love her for that.

Dirty Words

Good Stuff

I thought I invented the word AssFuck until I checked out this link. Apparently, I was wrong and the peronalized NFL store had already thought of it for the back of a jersey and banned it. You also can't get "Ass Whore" or "Ass Puppies." Other classics on the list are "Axing The Weasel," "Jesus Christ," and "Lucky Camel Toe."

If this list is real, I don't know what to say. Actually, I have a whole bunch of new things to say.

See Me. Wouldn't Want To Be Me (Nice Dreams)

Copied this from my myspace blog and myspace is still for perves.

When I was 8, things were way simpler. An ice cream machine was a flipped over big wheel and bad dreams involved Boogie Mans, Ghosts, Aliens or Sasquatches. Now, bad dreams are far worse and consist of myself, Mexcellente and Pinch at a frat party where an old man gives me his cell phone number as I try to leave and tells me to put it in under Herman Hesse so no one knows it's really him. Then, I walk Pinch back to her room and go home. That's the part where I wake up at 4:00 AM and toss and turn for the rest of the morning, pissed that I am going to have to drag through the day supertired. Now, here is my weekend in bulletpoints and this is why you don't want to be me.

Friday, 5:00 PM
-Leave work.

-Sam meets me at bar of choice and mentions she hasn't been drunk in a long time. I say it sounds like a dare. We drink shots of Crown Royal until we are semi-blind. The bartender starts pouring Jack Daniels in my beer when I go to the bathroom.

-Dude calls and says that he is going to a metal show in Oakland and he'll pick us up from the bar and take us. We say sure.

-We end up in a car with a German dude who names the Scorpions song everytime Sam whistles one.

-We get to Oakland and everyone in the car pees on the street, practically. We go to the show where the band is so metal that they don't have a bass player. I call one of the guitar players out on it and Sam takes a picture to clown later. She also points out that I am the only one in a white shirt in the club.

-I call my little sister who comes and picks us up in Oakland and brings us back to Palo Alto. We go to other bar of choice and the next thing I know I wake up in my bed and there is a bag of Jack In The Box in my trash. I have no car and Jack In The Box is too far to walk to. So, figure that one out Encyclopedia Brown.

Saturday
-JD takes me to my car en route to a horseshoe tournament in Livermore. He points out that he can see my nipples through my wifebeater.

-I drive by my grandma's old house where I spent years four, five and six and also drive past Mr. Goddammit's house since I am in the area.

-Hang out at horsehoe tournament and explain myself to friend's girlfriends and wives. An explanation of my singleness. It feels like everyone feels sorry for me because I don't have a girlfriend or a wife. They shouldn't. Nobody likes to feel like someone feels sorry for them. Personally, it makes me feel like a hobo or something. I Drink lots of water throughout the afternoon and rehydrate

-Take off around 5:00 and go pick up back pack from first bar of choice and go home.

-Watch last two episodes of Battlestar Galactica and sleep at 11:00 PM

Sunday
-Get up at 9:00 and talk to mom right when I get out of the shower, while hair dries to the point that it cannot be fashioned. It's gonna be a hat day.

-Clean apartment and vaccuum. The bathroom counter is spotless. Get coffee and paper and plan on just chillin' all day. Maybe do the crossword and cryptoquip. The Sunday Sudoku is too complicated. I really am looking forward to reading an article on soy beans and how they can be harmful if too much is taken into the human body.

-Girl with a boyfriend TMs and wants to ride bikes and get gelato. That sounds good.

-Pappy calls and wants to get a cocktail. That sounds a'ight. I just want to go downtown and get an Oscar Wilde book so all three can be accomplished.

-I call girl with a boyfriend and tell her to make sure she wears undergarments as Pappy will be there.

-After an episode of Always Sunny In Philadelphia, we go to the New New Old Pro and it's closed.

-Plan B is Compadres. After 3 pitchers, the bartendress recognizes me as "You're the guy that was in here and drank an Adios Motherfucker that one night."

-Five minutes after the comment, an Adios Motherfucker shows up at the table. Still unsure if she was trying to hint at me to leave.

-Pappy and girl with a boyfriend call JD to tell him that I am passed out as they joke about how he will never call back. He doesn't. This escalates to saying that they are visiting me in the hospital while I get my stomach pumped. I think it's gone too far and text him that I am okay.

-We move into the bar at compadres after we settle up because it is time for dollar margaritas. What could go wrong?

-At this point some equestrians from Stanford sit down next to me and girl with a boyfriend is annoyed that I am talking to them, at least I think. She reads this so she can give me shit about it. Anyway, girl with a boyfriend clocks me in the jaw while I am smoking.

-Girl with a boyfriend has had it and things are getting sloppy so we scrounge up some cash and call her a cab.

-Dr. Finn, medicine madman, shows up at this point and gets something to eat while Pappy and I are at two dollar margaritas.

-The good doctor drives my car to other bar of choice where we last about long enough to get a quesadilla to bring home to girl with a boyfriend in case she is hungry.

-Pappy passes out on the couch while some shit goes down in the kitchen. I hear Pappy leave and go to sleep.

-I Wake up at four or five with bad dreams.

That's pretty much everything in a nutshell. Hope girl with a boyfriend doesn't get mad about the blog. I also never ended up getting the book or gelato and instead have a sore jaw. Man, I really shit the bed on that one. In case you are keeping score at home, Sunday is not the new Friday either. You can also mark me down with an error.

Coming Soon

Quitting the myspace blog and moving back over here very soon. I miss the anonymity. Plus, myspace is for suckas and pervs.

The War At Home

First, the TV show War At Home is a crappy, rehash of Married With Children that promotes negative parenting and shows no redeeming qualities related to a family dynamic.

Second, this is disgusting, but I think I may have caught something from a girl who used to be at the house a lot. She had a dog like Little Orphan Annie and her dog may have had fleas because I just found my third one in three days. It makes me absolutely paranoid and freaked out, too. So, I have to napalm my apartment on Saturday or I am going to end up just throwing everything out and starting from scratch. I find myself vaccuuming everyday like I'm on diet pills and constantly scouring for another flea.

I'm thirty one and had a good run, so it's not the first time I caught something from a girl. It's how I met my ex-wife, kinda. Actually, not kinda, and it was probably a pretty good indicator of what was to come, but love is dumb if not blind. Those days are behind me, though, so now that I've grown a tiny bit more responsible, I'm still dealing with catching stuff from girls, however, now it is fleas. Also, a prescription of antibiotics is way easier than powders and bombs to eradicate something. A funny related story is when I thought I had something really horrible and went to the health center at the college and had to put my penis in some woman's hand to be told that it was Dickne.

Starts with cooties and ends with fleas. It's the circle of the social life. Meeting people is easy, but it takes a 24 hour period to kill the fleas.

Worst case scenario is that I have fleas which is totally plausible because of the beard which was nearly shaved this morning because it is horrid or horridle, if you will.

Mutual Fun!!!

Chuck Palahniuk once said at an in-store that he knew he was an adult when he bought new furniture. Add a divorce and a few other changes, if you talk about me, the story's the same one. The real defining moment of adultness outside of dropping $60 into a PGA Tour video golf machine and watching Justice League Unlimited is monitoring and taking pride in my mutual fund.

My Real Estate fund was a go-getter last year, but I was anticipating a slow down, so I pulled a lot out and put it in Blue Chips hoping for market resurgance. The dark horse that I got cheap and has tripled is the Japan mid cap fund. That thing is kickass there was a small shakeup on the Nikkei, but it's getting better. Anyway, a 12% return on my investment last year. That was awesome and it has been slow this year, but my YTD has tripled in the last week from almost nothing.

So, why talk about mutual funds? I think I use it as a substitue for something. Some women will get a cat or a dog and have this weird personal relationship with it trying to fill some sort of gap they are experiencing. If that works, cool. I, on the other hand, am pretty happy with being alone for a while. I'm over the textbook path that I was given a long time ago. I'm over wife, kids, and picket fence. What do I want with my life? I was thinking about picking up an external hard drive, getting a couple of picture frames to hang a couple of prints and maybe buy some new kitchen stuff. In the long term? Maybe pay off my credit cards and buy a new car. These are my goals in life at this point. Oh, also drink less and be more productive.

Natural concerns would be being bald and alone at 50 years old. I'll just have to go with it. If I am unhappy with being alone at 50, if that indeed does become the case, I can go volunteer, write something, paint fire hydrants green until they catch me, it really doesn't matter at this point. I'm over babies, marriage and fences and I'm quite good with it.

De(comp)pression

Hung over today and don't even know how I got into my house last night as my house keys were in my car this morning. It's kind of weird. I'll have to have a chat with my neighbor. I kind of needed to let off some steam last night, so it's juat as well and justified that I got blown out on a Wednesday. Now I just need to find one of my credit cards at one of the three bars I went to last night. I leave cards around too much. I need to go to a cash only policy.

Just talked to the ex-wife who is moving to San Diego to be with her dude and it felt all right...finally. It also turns out that I screwed up the divorce kind of. I was supposed to request that she be served, but it's my first divorce so I'll do it right on the next one. Sometimes it trips me out that I am technically married still.

Speaking of that, I'm kind of single again and that's good. I got a bit freaked out when there were tampons in my medicine cabinet and realized that things were moving too quickly with my last relationship. Plus, I had gained five pounds buy getting on that making dinner for two thing. I've since filled the void with tons and tons of work and it feels pretty good. I'm getting awesome in the workplace again. It's looking like I could be in a spot to win again. In the meantime, I will be fostering change in the organization because that's how I roll. I also swear before 9:00 AM now. So, there are still a few things to work out, but pretty soon I should be right around 90% and I will take that.

Why would anyone read this? I am writing to myself.

What a Sucka Dick

I recently heard/imagined that, Dick Cheney, in lieu of his recent public relations forest fire, planned on giving back to the people by introducing a new forty ounce beer variety. It will be brewed by Halliburton Breweries/Chemical Warfare division, but he had nothing to do with securing them the contract to produce the product. What is it? What makes it special? Well, it is a forty that features lottery scratchers on the label and is to be sold in poor inner-city areas throughout the United States and even Canada. It is to be called Dick Cheney's Blottery Beer.

When reached for comment (imaginarily) Dick Cheney said "I thought that this would be a good way to a) take even more money from the American people while giving them a brief glimpse of hope in the shape of financial freedom and then crushing their dreams of wealth and b) add one more notch on my evil belt." It was then reported that he ate a handful of hundred dollar bills, had the blood removed from an eight year old boy to fuel his black heart and shot someone in the face while kicking a puppy.

In other news, I was hanging out watching TV and my friend who shares my bed from time-to-time in order to be efficient like those that shower together to save water remarked to me that I should have a talk show on TV because I talk a lot and I'm funny. Clearly, the charming things are not annoying to her yet. I sat on that for 12 seconds and imagined how awesome it would be. Here's the plan. Due to my utter self-absorption it would be brilliant and follow the normal talk show formula. I would have a monologue where I talk about what I did in the past 24 hours or week. Then, I would have some celebrities on to be interviewed. Here is where my show is unique. Because I am self-absorbed to the point of nausea to listeners, I turn all of the celebrity stories into stories about me. They end up promoting nothing, feel unimportant and I get to talk about myself. Also, for college students, they could create a drinking game where they take a drink everytime I say "I" and a shot if I ever talk about playing in a band.

I see this as a win-win for the general populous as we take the wind out of the overblown celebrity market and get back to real people that have funny stories about their weird uncle. Only problem would be that nobody would watch, however, that is becoming the mark of brilliance on TV so I'd take that. If you have a high-rated sitcom on TV right now, you are most likely using canned laughter so your retarded audience knows when it is okay to laugh and you are also probably going for no-brainer jokes that are obvious from a setup almost two minutes before you drop the punchline or sight gag. I will miss you so much Arrested Development.

The solution to this is to start funding educational programs at a young age and get the noses pulled out of US, People, and In Style magazines for the girls and I don't know where the dudes noses are, but based on recent research, I don't think it is Cargo magazine.

Recommendations: Happy Tree Friends and Attack of The Show on G4, Blueberries, Battlestar Galactica, Hating on MySpace, but still checking your e-mail, and NoisePop SF 2006.

Super Great

I just got the news that I wouldn't be getting a bonus for the first time in three years at work because my performance was not a usual extraordinary over the last eight months. If you do the math, you figure out where it dropped off. Granted, in the last month or so things have improved greatly at work, but that's not enough to make up for the lost time. On top of that, I've gone from being considered for supervisor to getting a supervisor. The thing is I'm getting what I deserve. I don't expect it to get handed to me because I've had to endure a rough few months.

On the other hand, when I started writing this I had dropped fifty or sixty pounds, I wasn't sleeping anymore, I wasn't eating, I was coughing up blood and I was taking Tylenol PM to sleep every night. On top of that, I felt uncomfortable in my own skin, I was battling alcohol and I felt alone in a crowd. So, outside of work, I have been doing extraordinary and I guess that softens the blow. Plus, I have all of this year to do better and get back to where I was. I can't blame anyone. I should've been stronger than this and no one should be responsible for your performance besides yourself. Learned some important things this year that will come in handy way outside of work and way down the line. I also figured if I let this go on the Interweb I could let it go out of my head for now.

I Don't Know What I'm Doing

I've been focusing on work today because I realize in regards to dating members of the opposite sex I have no idea what I am doing. No idea. Flying blind.

Right Into The DANGER ZONE

Good news: found the gray area of drinking and I am absolutely comfortable in it now. I'm smitten like seriously head over heels in a gay way for a girl who is way too hot, witty, smart and good for me. I haven't felt like this for six years. It feels good, but scary

Bad news: loose ends are going to have to be tied up somehow and I am going to have to prepare myself for about 45 "You are such an asshole. I hate you"s in order to tie them up. Smitten is scary because women can be evil and ruthless if you put yourself in a position to let that happen.

Anyway, went from zero to four in a week and now have to figure out how to get it to one. I suppose the equation is relatively simple, you just minus three, but I am struggling with it today. I guess the key is to always be okay with being back at zero no matter what happens, but I swear to god this girl is so awesome I would fuck her brother if she had one. That's super scary.

Making New Friends and Influencing People

Well, it's tax season and many people are concerned with write-offs so I thought I would address it. Recently, it has become more evident than ever that I am going to have to rebuild a pretty good empire of friends that were built over an 18 year period in some cases. I have salvaged what I could, but I have not seen many friends in what is approaching a year. Some broken acquaintances have been by choice and others are a result of being excluded because people would be taken out of their comfort zone for reasons that I am a little bit more than indirectly responsible. I'm not a finger pointer, but I can't have the whole blame rest on my head. On the other hand, if I was that awesome it probably wouldn't be a problem.

So, has begun a period of rebuilding and I should be right back where I was as I approach 50. I really shouldn't let it bother me, but sometimes I miss some of those friends and while I understand, it still sucks sometimes as I try to adapt to new ones and build new quality friendships. I'm just still alittle bit stubborn about accepting the situation and I still tend to find friends that may be not of the standard that I am looking for. It feels unfair sometimes, but I don't really believe in unfair anymore. It's not a matter of fair vs. unfair. It is a matter of this is what you got, so work with it and make the best of it. The art of faking it eventually will become an art of day-to-day living.

Black Scabbath

I went to therapy for the first time in six weeks with the intention of breaking up with my therapist because I felt like I was doing better. A friend had referred to therapy as picking a scab the other night and I'm starting to believe that to be true. He was in a band with me off and on for seven or eight years and is in therapy for a similar situation to mine and we joke about how almost everyone who was in the band is in therapy now. If we ever start a new band together it would have to be called "Fourth Session" at this point. I would have to get a tattoo touched up, but then at least it would be consistent. After recent events the tattoo is more like a scar than a badge of honor. Well, it was never a badge of honor, but it was never a scar of shame and regret before.

Anyway, in the session after bleeding my inner self, filled with doubt and concern, all over the rug, it became kind of apparent that I may need more therapy. On the other hand, I was feeling a lot better when I wasn't being forced to talk about it every two weeks. It would seem that I have an old problem that could be serious that I thought I was beating. Yeah, you could chalk it up to the first holiday alone, but alcoholics are brilliant excusists in their own mind. If I don't deal with it now, there are a couple of excuses coming up in the next three months that could prove to be very dangerous to my psyche.

Meanwhile, post-therapy today, my productivity has grinded to a screeching halt and I find myself staring at a screen and nudging a friend over IM all day. It sucks. Then, I tell myself that I will just go home and get some work done, but Marissa's sister is coming back to the O.C. and I told my sister I would go to dinner with her. Apparently, she is concerned about things, too. Today is reminding me of the old days of this blog, but a little bit better. I ate lunch today and I quit Tylenol PM, so I'm still moving in the right direction, I'm just tripping on stuff here and there.

I'll recharge tonight and kick ass tomorrow and then pick up dry cleaning and stay home. That is the key for this weekend. Just stay home and be productive. Maybe visit family, but whatever I do, I do not need to go to the bars and meet people that I will not remember the next day. Here's how it works. Lonely. Go out to a bar and drink. Meet people. Talk to people for a while. Get wasted. Go black. Wake up next day and have numbers in phone without a clue of who they belong to. The driving problem is conquered at least as I don't even bring my car keys with me anymore and instead, have assigned a set of keys for drinking that consist of house key, laundry key and mail key. Seems brilliant some days and sad on other days.

Uncanny Resemblance

I hadn't posted a graphic in a while, so I pulled this out of my archive. Thought I would post it and let anyone know that I am working on splicing the DNA of a unicorn, a dog and a corndog to create the world's first Unicorndog. The body of a horse, the head of a dog and a horn of a delicious corndog. A few kinks so far in obtaining DNA from a unicorn, understanding any type of genetics as well as the difference between RNA and DNA and determining whether a corn dog has DNA at all.

Grey Stoked

I don't make resolutions. No cliches like quitting smoking, starting to work out, or quitting masturbating or anything lame like that. This year I am making an effort to make some slight adjustments. I want to learn to live in the gray area. Just exist at point zero on the number line. No love, no hate. I won't get mad at anyone or anything, but I won't like anything too much. That means no overplugging of good bands or telling anyone that anything is brilliant. I guess it's okay to feel that way about some things, but I am going to try to keep it to myself. I will never eat more than makes me full and I will not eat too little either. I won't talk too much and I won't be too quiet. No happy and no sad. I won't oversleep, but I will get at least seven hours every night. I won't call you ever again, but I won't try to not call you. I won't drink too much, but I won't quit drinking. I will clean my apartment once a week, but no more than that. I will do laundry once a week, but I will not separate the colors and wash it in warm, not hot or cold. I will watch less TV, but I will watch worse shows. I will eat one unhealthy meal a week and go to lunch when I'm at work rather than the gym. I will fuck up and do something stupid once a month. I will exist as an individual, but not be a hermit and avoid friends and family in observance of Obi-Wan weekends.