Pro Tip #480

Married girls should not send e-mails like this:

You seemed busy and I am not one to bother.
So I think your hot and besides that you are interesting, and interesting is good.

Enjoy your Tuesday. Email me when you get a chance.


However, hot and interesting? I'll take that. One day it will come from a single person. The "your hot" typo is kind of a turn off, though. It's not recent, but I just found it in my inbox when I was looking for an e-mail address. Needed the ego boost today. She also signed her name very cutely.

Living Las Vegas

It should be stopped before it spreads. They should build a fucking wall around Las Vegas and fill it with water. It would be painless to all the jaded fucks that inhabit its boundaries. There would be minimal losses, but we would all be saved from the virus of gaud that threatens to spread from its horrible horrible bowels. The popped collars, Friday night shirts and stunna shades that would float to the top of the Vegas ruins cesspool would be somehow satisfying. Oh, and all of those fucking giant, whalebone drink containers would all float to the top, too. I'd take them and tie them all together and make a giant raft to do tours for young children so that they could learn from our mistakes.

So, went to Vegas last weekend. Didn't really want to, but went for my sister's 21st. Any excuse for a family trainwreck and I'm pretty much in. Went past the Super 8 that I was staying at during my last major life changing event and the 7-11 where I had a taco roll of some sort right before it happened and was cool with it. I've recovered from all that finally, but have managed to find a host of new problems to deal with. It keeps one busy, I guess. Without problems life would be a conglomeration of Entertainment Tonight, Extra! and Wheel of Fortune with an occasional wordsearch on Sundays. New problems make it possible to look at your bed and fear it because you aren't going to get any sleep and will feel your chest tighten immediately when you lay down and close your eyes and your mind spins off into a loop about all of life's problems. You hear of the footloose and Fancy Feast set (intentional cat joke), but I find it hard to believe that they are truly evolved to the point that there isn't something dragging them down late at night in a dark room.

So, flew in Friday around 4:00 PM and went straight to a blackjack table and lit up a smoke. After an hour and $100 I was reprimanded for dropping too many F bombs on grounds of creating a hostile work environment for the dealer. I acknowledged the problem and recommended going to community college and getting out of working in a casino as a good idea to dehostilize the dealer's work environment. I was lucky to not get cattle prodded, but I was kinda punchy and uncomfortable in my surroundings.

So dudes next to me are straight from the OC and none of them look like Seth or Ryan at all. They looked more like the dudes in the episode where Ryan goes back to Chino and starts stealing cars, but that's revealing a little too much about my TV viewing habits, doesn't it? So, OC dudes are smoking Newports and talk me into putting Binaca on the filter of a Newport and smoking it. When was the last time any motherfucker even saw Binaca?

So, we're playing and having a nice time and the dude right next to me looks at me and goes "Shit, dude. My friend just came out today." The way the sentence was accented on the "today" made it sound like his friend had just arrived in Vegas. No. That was not the case. His friend had just come out of the closet. This was fine, but I didn't know which friend it was until a little later when I said "Sorry, your friend ended up gay, dude, but don't be bothered by it. He's still your friend." Then he replied "Shut up, dude. It's the guy right behind me." I looked at the guy behind him and just said "Duh. That dude's gay."

So, after that I met my family for drinks in the bar and we started getting wasted. I told some waitress that she had shelf titties. That was kind of mean, but she was pushing up these A or B cups and creating no cleavage and her boobs just turned into something that was reminiscent of flan.

We then went to the dueling piano bar thing at New York New York so that my family could spend $400 to stop anyone who requested the Eagles. It's become a tradition. I even got to sing some Van Halen Jump when they played it. Killed it, by the way. Holy shit, I just remembered that I sang Time of My Life from Dirty Dancing with some chick at karaoke last night. Nice.

After the piano thing, the rest of the night was spent herding cats as my sister's started to fall apart. One of them even called The Girl and told her it would be smart if she stopped texting me for her protection because I was going to get real wasted. I've got to shake The Girl, by the way. I don't care if it takes blunt cranial trauma. I want this to end. I've managed to stop myself from calling her for the last three nights and I've wanted to call her real bad, but I don't even know what I'd say. I used to be so much cooler than this until she got in and scrambled my eggs. Whatevs. She's just not that into Ol' Jauge and that's fine. what was I talking about? Oh, So I spend the rest of the night until 6:30 AM the next morning at a blackjack table. Basically, this is what happened between Midnight and 6:30. I spilled a drink on the table about every 20 minutes, was reprimanded for dropping F bombs and zatted Blackjacks like nobody's business. Zatting is when you've drank enough Red Bull and vodkas to kill a young cow and can see through the cards. When a face card is dealt and the unseen card comes around, you point at it and yell "Zat!" as it hits the table. When this completes a blackjack, you have zatted correctly. I even zatted a drink into a dude's lap and he thanked me for it because I zatted him a blackjack. Only in Vegas.

More later. I'm going to go solve the world's pressing problems now.

I'm So Getting One

Hasbro is putting out the Power Tour Electric Guitar next month. I need one to go with my One Man Jam. Go to that link to see this horrendous tool give lessons on using one. He talks about two-handed hammer-ons in the Advanced Techniques section.

Tiny Horses

So, in the last 72 years while you were a gleam in your father's pants, maybe born, got housebroken, learned to throw a ball, and grew up into the wonderful person that I assure you you are; in that 72 years there have been seeing eye horses. WTF?!?!?! you say? Yes. So did I, but it's real. I saw a picture of one in action and sent it to a friend who then sent me back a link to the Guide Horse Foundation's website and I stared at my monitor like I was seeing a UFO land in my backyard (if I had one). The term used was "bedazzled."

I've seen miniature horses before and I'm a big fan. I mean there are cat people, dog people, and even bird people. Then you get to the less common, fringe animal owners. These are your reptile and ferret people. Cat people are usually weird. Dog people are usually trying to fill a gap in their lives. Bird people...Weren't there bird people in Flash Gordon? God, Queen is awesome.

I don't know what to say about bird people. I had one and it died after it ate guacamole. Guacamole doesn't kill birds, people who give guacamole to birds kill birds. Anyway, he was named Tweety and after he died he lived in our freezer for months or maybe a year. The go-to joke was to pull him out of the freezer in his freezer bag home that had expanded with air death particles and throw him in someone's lap during a family party. As a family, I'll admit that we are twisted and dysfunctional, but it's kinda like when you are walking around in the Winter time and you just plant one shoe about 4 inches deep into a puddle. At first, you're all pissed off and your foot is cold and your sock is wet while your other foot is completely dry and normal. After about 17 steps you come to grips with the fact that that's your shoe now and that's just kinda how it is. Once you accept that you have a fucked up shoe, it's usually not as bad as it was initially.

So, bird people are like that. Whatever that means. The fringe animal arena is filled with people that are craving attention. That's why they are on the fringe and own illegal animals like ferrets. One popular ferret owner is none other than Perres Helton (that's misspelled on purpose to avoid getting picked up in search results of people looking for that name. I learned an important lesson when I namedropped Sisqo). So, yes, ferret people and reptile people are weird, attention cravers.

Now, I will fully admit that I'm making broad accusations almost to the point of being specist, but using the broad generalizations depicted above have got me this far and been in the area of 97% accurate. Broad generalizations rarely fail in the realm of Tommy Bahama shirts, tribal armband tattoos, guys that wear visors and are not golfing, people that drive large trucks, hippies, uber-recyclers, Prius drivers, gingers, people who wear eye patches, people who wear stunna shades in a club at night, croc wearers, people in sandals and socks, guys in moustaches who are not cops or firefighters, cops or firefighters without moustaches, guys in fanny packs, anyone from Orlando, anyone in Orlando, office talkers, etc...Broad generalization is a proven system that works.

So, anyway, what I was trying to say and totally getting sidetracked, was that out of all of those animal people it would be cool to be a mini horse owner. I'll acknowledge that it's totally in the fringe subset of animal owners and probably has elements of all of them wrapped into one. It would be weird, attention craving and filling a hole in my life that a human has been unable to do. So, I guess now is the point where I let everyone reading this know that I'm a huge hypocrite and have no right to judge weird cat people...and did "Don't Stop Believin'" really just come up on my iPod while I was shuffling? All of a sudden I feel like I'm in the work montage from a romantic comedy that has some guy writing on his computer as seen through the window by the camera. At the end of the montage it has him running through the rain while he's holding his trench coat in his hand. He turns the corner and goes to the spot where he met the girl interest in the movie because they had a fight over a misunderstanding and he chose his job over her. He sits there for a minute and looks down as the montage turns into the real scene and the girl gets out of a cab and runs to him. Pro tip: This does not happen in real life. Second Pro Tip: It would be The Shins or anything with Ben Gibbard in it instead of Journey.

So, I'll sum it up by saying that miniature horses are awesome.

Is This Really Necessary?

So, there is a Grease 2 fan site. Technically, the ultimate Grease 2 fan site. Granted, Michelle Pfeiffer helped me discover my special purpose during the ladder riding, cool rider scene and Adrian Zmed was brilliant, as usual, but does it warrant a fan site. Could/Did the Internet go to that place that TV did? I'm not one of those Kill Your TV shirt wearing hippy elitists, but I will admit that it is just fucking cluttered with crap. Somebody needs to clean the cat box that Comcast calls digital cable. It's not that TV sucks, but so much sucks on TV. Hate the playa, not the medium that it's transmitted on. Guns don't kill people, etc...So, when there are fan fiction sites for Good Times and extreme erotic guilds in web based RPGs, it may be time to build an app that will sift through the crap. I know there are some things out there that can help, but that's the Google killer, it's the application that cleans up your path down the WorldWebSuperHighway. Not censorship or rating systems of any kind, but simply streamlining. Now, here is Michelle Pfeiffer on the ladder. Thank you YouTube. At 1:32, you get jazz hands and the ladder. That's so rad.

HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is going to be cooler than being born:

I'm Really Glad That I Read This Today

Not only will you die alone, but more quickly than non-alone people. That's great. At least the doctors figured out why. Might as well keep up the smoking.

Also, for the ladies that have participated in the sanctity of life: TrueMomConfessions.
And for those about to rip their office phones out of the wall and throw them down the stairs at work: TrueOfficeConfessions.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Drinks

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What is a Pinback?

Pinback is releasing Autumn of the Seraphs next week. I've been listening the shit out of the album and just have to say that these guys are such a breathe of fresh air and are truly unique when compared to emo, indie, or whatever term the rack at Target that houses their album calls their music.

Basically, there is tons of interplay between the bass and guitar utilizing a gang of syncopation, dissonance and resolution. Lyrically, they are extremely interesting and the delivery is usually subdued and mellow even when they are yelling.

So, here's the tracks:
1. From Nothing To Nowhere - The introduction almost sounds like it could be a Police song. It's got a driving guitar line that pushes the song through while the bass line just wrecks it through the verse and then players reverse positions while the bass plays it straight through the chorus while the guitar just riffs. Also, if you've got heeadphones listen for the organ low in the mix.

2. Barnes - Quintessential Pinback. It sounds like the bass and guitar are fighting playfully in this song. They really push that syncopation thing. It's almost like a King Crimson song or something. Totally prog-rock.

3. Good To Sea - The drumbeat on this song sound like it's coming off an old organ's presets, in a good way. It's just chill. "It's really not that kind/To terrorize one in one's sleep/And if you really tried/You'd probably cut the chase to deep." I care for that line. There is something truly nautical about this keyboard line, too. It sounds like it's being played on a submarine barely submerged. Don't ask me why.

4. How We Breathe - Dude. Rob Crow and Zach Smith are so better than you. I love the way this song starts. Again, the drum line is so subdued, but perfect for the song. Do they seriously say "Overneath" in this song? This song is about having anxiety I think. Not much to say about this song except the guitar tone sounds a bit like a grandfather clock at the end.

5. Walters - This song has a verse about a guy who tied balloons to a lawn chair until he floated away. The balloons pop and he comes back to the ground. It's a tribute to him. His name is Larry. One of the simpler Pinback songs I've ever heard. Then, it gets all hard in the last minute or so. It's kinda cool.

6. Subbing For Eden - Spoken verse. Has a line "Folder reference cache/zeroes, ones and tildes." Pinback uses words in songs that Bad Religion couldn't even use. Kinda short.

7. Devil You Know - This has a cool rolling guitar line. Riffs. The verse has that in the round thing that Pinback do where they sing syncopated verses. It's really cool, but I don't know how these dudes can do that and still play at the same time. That's really hard to do. The first verse, I believe, is referring to leaves as the tears of trees. That's good writing. a piano line follows the verse really effectively on the chorus in this one.

8. Blue Harvest - Wasn't this the code name for Return of the Jedi while it was in production? You can totally hear the Police influence in this song. The guitar line evokes "Message in a Bottle" a lot. I'm not calling biters or anything. I'm just sayin'. Plus, if you are biting a little bit of The Police, you are paying homage.

9. Torch - This is probably my favorite song on the album. It's totally a sci-fi nerd song. Check this line "You're close to me/I push you away." Speaks volumes in the middle of a sci-fi nerd song. I think there might be something else going on in this song under the surface.

10. Bouquet - The keyboard intro on this song made me think that my computer was scanning me and importing me into a world run by an entity called CPU and I would have to fight other programs for users in the real world and perhaps fight Sark and play electric jai-alai and light cycles...Oh shit. I thought I was in TRON again. My bad. Pinback is Nautical. That's all I'm going to say.

11. Off By 50 - What's up King Crimson? Cool guitar line at the beginning. "Mindless Hateful/There's no such thing as a free lunch/No such thing at all." Syllabically, this line is delivered brilliantly. These guys are good. Everyone should buy this album. I really care for it.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Popcorn will kill you. I knew it.

Official Laugh At The World Day Is Today

Because of a three day weekend and a brain damaging Sunday bout of day drinking, today is official laugh at the world day. Yes, I just invented it.

First, Friday night? I don't remember what I did. Oh, wait. It was beer Friday at work and then I showed up on my bike drunk at my team's soccer game that I took the night off from to actually do something, but it just turned into a Plan B night. Plans have been very difficult to make as of late, however, there has been an increase of spontaneity and mostly pleasant surprises.

Saturday? Pappy came over and watched me play Guitar Hero until he got bored (2 songs). Pappy does not like video games, so we drank vodka and tequila drinks while we waited for a couple of friends. A trainwreck developed while we discussed how much of a pussy Ozzy Osbourne was and how we were dumbfounded that anyone thought that he was a satan worshipper and instead it was because of his album covers. Then, we decided the same thing happened to Maiden, but they rocked a little harder and never recorded a song called "Mama, I'm Coming Home."

Woke up Sunday morning to find that a piece of my dash had been forcefully dislodged from my car. Drunk strength can be compared to adrenaline. How come you hear stories about women lifting cars off their kids in emergency situations, but never a drunk picking up a houseboat to get a horseshoe? That's a really good question I could sit on for like an hour. Sunday afternoon was a pretty intense situation of day drinking. A lot of it will remain untalked about. A lot of blurred faces like on Cheaters or cops due to incriminating actions. We drank dollar beers out of styrofoam cups, saw a Bay Bridge half-dollar from 1936, met Dennis and his wife, met Gabe and Devon, I got invited to a fight club this weekend in Oakland, lost my sunglasses, and managed to find transport to a friend's house to have a barbeque with her mom and sister while we were mostly drunk and some slept.

So, by Monday evening, my brain was suffering in like a manic way. You get all wasted for 48 hours and then your brain starts putting the pieces back together and none of them fit and you get all bummed because the euphoria can not be maintained of being wasted and not really thinking about all the stuff that you are doing wrong or at least not right in your life. This version was especially bad for some reason and still was lingering Monday morning. Nothing going to bed at 8:00 pm Monday night couldn't fix, though. Binge drinking is not what it used to be, but I still think that the press is unfair to it. It's not as bad as binge eating.

So, what am I saying? I know there are things going on right now that are not what they should be for a young, "marketable" (my old doctor called me that), 32 year old male like myself. I can do way better than putting up binge tabs every weekend because I don't want to put the effort into anything else productive outside of laundry and vaccuming. It just makes my head cloudy and prevents me from getting smarter and moving a step closer to world domination. Seriously, if you are reading this, I am like -(negative)685 beers away from running your life. If I quit drinking, I will eventually become the equivalent of a Bond villian or a superawesome ninja. You've been warned.

So, instead of sitting there thinking about how bad stuff is and taking it personal, I'm just laughing about it and it makes it feel so much better. Try it next time you walk by your couch and catch the corner of it between your big toe and index toe. Instead of yelling "Shit!" because it hurts hecka bad, just start laughing. Or, when someone comes up to you at work and asks you the stupidest fucking thing that you have heard that would sound cute coming out a five year old, but when it comes out of an adult you want to punch them in the fucking face, just laugh. You'll start to build a weird association between anger, pain and funny. Do it enough and it sticks. Yeah, it sucks to be the guy laughing at a funeral, but it's the price you pay. It's really a better alternative to feeling any type of pain, trust me. It's worth the price of everyone thinking that you are absolutely shithouse rat crazy.

The Real Air Guitar Champeen

Will Arnett is brilliant and should be the real US Air Guitar Champion. Cue the youtube to 5:32 if it's counting forward and 2:10 if you're counting backward and watch the magic happen.

This Will Get Taken Down (Feist 1-2-3-4 on Letterman last night)

This is like the Indie Rock We Are the World. Watch it quick before they take it down. Everyone Indie rock guy and gal seem to be singing backup on this.

Sweet Dreams are Not Made of These

First off, my iPod is totally gay for Cheap Trick and That1Guy on Shuffle. It's not so bad, I think both bands are awesome.

Second, went to bed at 8:30 PM again last night. That makes two nights in a row. It is what it is. Last night, however, I kept waking up and then had a weird dream within a dream experience where I woke up and it was 5:16 Am in the dream and I was just going to get up and get ready for work, but then realized that it was only 11:30 PM. It was super disorienting.

So, I wake up again at 1:00 AM with one of those jerk outs that happens in dreams sometimes and I try and remember what I was dreaming about and it was super weird. I was saving the world from an alien guy whose power was in a tube that resembled those Rain-blo gum tubes that we used to get as kids. So, after doing some ninja shit, I managed to get the tube and eat the gum and killed him. I distinctly remember that the last gumball thing had Nerds inside. So, then I woke up.

I fell back asleep and woke up at 4:00 AM in a cold sweat. I was dreaming that I woke up with Nicole Richie in bed and she was giving me shit about getting too drunk the night before and not being able to get it up and passing out on her. That one sucked.

I think these are three examples of why I sometimes become an Insomniac. My sub-conscious must just fucking hate me. Where are the dreams of a land of chocolate or jet packs and lightsabers or a house made of cake? Why don't I ever get good ones.

By the way, Black Eyed Peas suck Black Eyed Ass.

So This is What it's Like...

To lay on a bed of nails with a giant rock on your chest. I had to cancel a day drinking seminar that I was giving today because I'm in no shape. First, I've got this super deep leg bruise that is making it very difficult to get around and also to sleep. It sucks. I hate being tired. Second, I have no idea what's going on with the girl.

I'm a cool guy. I can go with the flow in most situations, however, there is some unprecedentation going on and I feel absolutely in the dark on everything on top of the fact that everything was so confusing anyway. I've seen glimpses of what must be the emotional equivalent of the visual representation of puppies and unicorns and I've seen other glimpses of candy being taken away from a baby. All I want in life at this point is simplicity and peace of mind. It seems that the only way to have those risk free, however, is to rid yourself of everything that you hold dear. Basically, if you have nothing, you have nothing to lose. This became apparent in a conversation I was having recently when I explained that when you are alone, being alone feels fine. When you have had a taste of what it feels like to not be alone, alone hurts again. Call it numbness or ignorance or simply shutting off some feelings, but it was working.

So, tidied up the apartment and made a grocery list and then realized the leg wasn't going to work and I was too tired and I was just supertense about the girl situation. It shouldn't be this tense and everything would be fine if she were just another girl, but we're not even technically dating and she is scared because she likes me...that's like hating a food because it's too good. Actually, isn't that how a lot of people feel about certain cakes and drugs. They're like "Oh, get that away from me. It's too good." Then, they eat it anyway in most situations.

She is not returning my calls after a bunch of texts last night and I'm just absolutely confused. A voicemail that said "Fuck you. I hate you. Don't call me" would be better than the current situation because when you don't know anything and your brain spins like mine does you start to get creative. I start asking myself things like "Did she realize she can't live with that small tuft of hair that I have on my lower back? Are my ears too big? Does she know about that calcium deposit on my skull from when I cracked it open? Is she going back to her secret French husband? Space monkeys? German transients? Clown gangs?" So, my move is to try and sleep it off so I'm not thinking about it. That's my healthy alternative to self-medicating, but then when I close my eyes I just think about her and I'm too tired to fight it and then can't sleep. So, I think the term right now is either bedogged or frazzled or just bummed.

Then, in the middle of this my stepdad drunk dials me and tells me that I should come out and visit him while my mom's at Michael Buble. A) I tell him that I really shouldn't be drinking when I feel like this. I've learned the hard way B) He just wants me to come out and fix his computer and C) Why the fuck is my mom going to Michael Buble? I thought he was a Target brand.

So, after splattering this crap into the InterSphere, I realize there are three possible outcomes to this. The first is that it finally built up to the point that the girl really doesn't want to pursue anything and doesn't want to communicate at all. That's fine. The second is that she is just having a freakout and does want to pursue something, but just can't deal with me right now. That's fine, but it's killing me. The third is, regardless of the previous two options I can cut bait and concentrate on work and laundry and getting stuff done because when my head is cloudy like this I can't do anything. Oh my god, am I pining? That is so weak. The third option is the nuclear bomb option and is definitely the one that I want to avoid and would be the hardest to do because she is in the top 5 awesome things that have happened to me in twenty years, but I just don't know what's going on? On top of that, she reads this blog and I just flipped all of my cards over for the world to see. It's like charades where instead of acting out the parts of the word like a mime, you just say what it is and your team has to guess or just repeat what you just said. It's the world's easiest version of charades, so shouldn't it make this a little easier. Fuck Me.

Ocho Cinco

This article, T-rex versus Beckham? Sorry, David, you're lunch states and I quote that "The smallest dinosaur could reach speeds of nearly 40 mph (64 kph) and even the lumbering Tyrannosaurus rex would have been able to outrun most modern-day sportsmen, according to research published on Wednesday."

That's fine, but notice that it says "most." This is because Ocho Cinco could beat the T-rex in a race. Why the fuck would the article compare it to Becks? He's not known for his speed. I mean if anything compare it to those two olympic busts from like 8 years ago. I can't even remember their names.

Beyond that, if Ocho Cinco was involved in Michael Vick's dog fighting ring, his dog would whip all the other dog's asses. In fact, if there was a T-rex there that had a dog, Ocho Cinco's dog would whip the T-rex's dog ass. It's hypothetical, but scientifically provable.

Just a Reminder

Ween is better than you. Way better.

Manstrual Cycle

I'm a firm believer in a male's manstrual cycle. The Urban Dictionary definition is close, but I think it goes much further than what Mr. Lewis Wandon submitted.

So, first let's look at the menstrual cycle. Wikipedia's definition gets a little too detailed, but I'll work with it. Basically, it is a set of physiological changes that occur in female human beings and great apes. Oh my god, I wish I hadn't read ahead like that. The follicular phase gets quite involved. So, maybe the manstrual cycle is making light of something that is a little bit more involved than it would seem on the surface or as it's referred to with its set of nicknames.

Okay, I'm way out of my element at this point. This is what I do know. A female's organs look like a cow's head. Please see Exhibit A. That's what I got out of Human Sexuality at Diablo Valley College, but the A only cost me $25. That's a local joke. If you watch the news, you'll get it.

Exhibit A

So, the manstrual cycle that I'm experiencing is similar to the first phase of the traditional menstrual cycle as experienced by women and ape women. It lasts about 2 to 7 days. It occurs about every 60 to 90 days. That's my personal cycle, but other males and ape men may differ. I get extremely irritable and almost want people to pick a fight with me even to the point of baiting them. I give shiteye to people. I get real quiet and introverted. I listen to sad emo music. I think a lot. I cramp up and retain water. I also develop adult acne in the form of breaking out.

Every couple to few months, I'll be in the bathroom getting ready for work and I'll look in the mirror and see a tiny blemish and I'll be like "Oh, fuck. Looks like it's my time of the year again." That's when my man-period starts.

Last night, I was totally on my guyrag. I was cranky and pissed off at someone over the phone because I wasn't getting what I wanted. It's crazy, though. I have no control over the way I'm feeling. I mean I'm not the chick crying in Bed, Bath and Beyond because her boyfriend can't remember her birthday or doesn't want the homo bedspread that she picked out, but I'll act out. I'll say things that I wish I didn't say that open up a can of worms that I can't recan, EVER.

So, I guess this is an apology to the world for the way I've been behaving and also a plea for patience at the same time. I don't want to demean you (the collective you), I don't want to stomp on your foot "accidentally" in a soccer game and then help you up and say "You all right, man?" when both of us know that I just stomped the fuck out of your foot because I'm getting a visit from Uncle Flow, and finally I just want to be good and feel good. Fuck this Charlie Brown bullshit. Whatever happened to Charlie Brown? Did he finally hang himself and leave some tragic love/suicide letter addressed to Lucy professing his unspoken love and also asking her to take care of his dog?

So, anyway, please be patient with me (the collective me) and if you see me on my period, just get in your car and leave me alone and we'll all be fine. It goes away.

FOTC - Business Time

Currently, this is making me laugh almost as much as the punch dancing scene in Hot Rod.

"Team building exercise '99"

Van Halen Reunion

And the new album cover is already done. I like the way they have modernized their 1984 philosophy. I'm assuming the album will be called 2008.