| RANDOM QUOTE | I'm a comic book artist. So I think to myself, what do I like to draw? I like to draw hot chicks, fast cars and cool guys in trench coats. So that's what I write about.
-Frank Miller | |
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| BIRTHDAYS |  | Category: Personal
Tuesday, May 11th, 2004 @ 09:16 am
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 Well, looks like we got some birthdays coming up here. Well, there's mah woo-man's, and then, well, there's mine. So there. Two very important birthdays all back to back and shit. Fancy that.
So, while you're figuring out what to buy us (think lubricants) I'll give you a run down on what's been happening in my neck of the ghetto: I am not rich and famous yet, I play a lot of video games, I tried and liked the green Tabasco sauce (can't stand the flavor of the regular red stuff), been to the salad bar at Sav-a-Center -- it rocks your balls off (still haven't hit the 2.0lbs mark on the produce scale though), I got a pimple on my fleshy nostril divider that hurt like the devil, decided to start exercising again, just scratched my nose and noticed I have another subcutaneous pimple coming in on the crease where my nose meets my face, went to a Rocky Horror screening for the first time, been to 3 crawfish boils, and scissor-kicked Angela Landsbury.
On second thought, that last one was Bill Brasky, not me.
So, I'm going to try, yet again, to post here more often. It's starting to annoy me that I have all of these thoughts and memories and I'm not recording them. What if I forget them all? Who's going to remember all these things for me when I'm dead and thusly no longer capable of remembering things? How will the world benefit from the shining brilliance of my intellectual superiority if I don't put my funny dick jokes and fart stories up for all of humanity to read?
I, for one, will not let my thoughts and memories go silent into that good night. I will stand up and shake a triumphant fist and thumb my nose at the people that are insulted when they get nose-thumbed (not really sure who that is yet, or what nose-thumbing is for that matter, but I seriously plan to find out).
I thank you for your time. There is more to come.
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| THE BOTTOM LINE | | Category: Personal
Thursday, March 11th, 2004 @ 11:29 am
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I sit here, making exponentially more than I did say, five years ago, looking the $7.95 I have left in my bank account. My paycheck will probably go through today, but then I turn around and pay rent and a few other assorted bills returning my account to pretty much square one.
I know the phrase "where does it all go" is cliched but I don't really live beyond my means, I don't own anything in the world except a motorcycle that's probably not worth the parts and labor for the work I just had done to it, a computer I put together myself using a lot of stuff from my old one, and a desk. I have my name on a lease entitling me the honor of paying someone to live in their house, and am responsible for the bill for my cell phone that is practically held together with bubblegum and shoestrings. I own nothing yet my money doesn't seem to notice that on its way out the fucking door.
I buy beer and cigarettes. Occasionally I go out. I haven't bought a new article of clothing for myself in probably 3 years. I don't get it.
One year, I made roughly Ten grand. Yeah, that's right, $10,000. That's one hundred one hundreds. Somehow, I was able to save THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS of that. How? What in the hell? How was I able to live for a year on seven thousand dollars and now couldn't probably live a year with under 25 grand without ending up in my parent's spare bedroom? I don't have any expensive tastes or a lavish lifestyle to keep up. I feel like a character in one of those movies about the guy who thinks his life is mediocre but then through some crazy turn of events finds out that his life has meaning and he actually is destined fro greatness -- except in my movie I just stay a renter, driving a beatup, used motorcycle, who plays a lot of video games because he knows he either has no money for any other form of entertainment or partaking in other form of entertainment will cause him to not have anymore money.
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| MY DAD | | Category: Personal
Saturday, February 21st, 2004 @ 12:38 am
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Once, my dad was watching TV around the wee hours of the morning. He noticed, every now and then, a mouse would run along the baseboards of the living room. My dad then got up, drove to the store and bought one of those sticky mouse traps.
My dad continued watching TV until he heard a panicked, desperate squealing coming from the corner.
I walked in the kitchen as my dad was hanging the mouse on the sticky mouse trap over the trash with scissors in his other hand.
"You can resuse the traps," he said.
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| READING | | Category: Personal
Friday, May 23rd, 2003 @ 11:52 am
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 I used to read quite a bit, but it seems that for the past couple of years its sort of tapered off. Funny enough, this coincided perfectly with the timeframe in which I began drinking heavily everyday. I supposed it would be impossible to focus on a book when the entire goddamn room won't sit still for a minute.
I'm trying to get back into it though. I've restarted my routine lately, which pretty much consists of not sitting around eating and drinking for no good goddamned reason on weekdays, and a couple sets of miscellaneous calisthenics (pushups, situps, etc). I've already noticed how much more reading time there is in the day when one isn't searching (and half the time finding) for the answers to life's problems in the bottom of a bottle. But this isn't a post about my love affair with the drink, I have not the time to write, nor you the patience to read all that I would have to say on that subject.
So, currently, I'm slowly getting back into the swing of things with The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy (anthology or whatever), a book that I know most of you knocked out of the way when you were about 12, but I never seemed to get around to. I seem to have lost a shitload of quickness when it comes to reading, but hopefully that'll come back too and this is probably a bad book to gauge my speed on, being as bulky as it is.
After this, girlygirl and foo have me all zooted about Choke, so that will probably be my next conquest.
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| I MUST BE OLD | | Category: Personal
Monday, April 14th, 2003 @ 02:49 pm
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 Not much happened this weekend, went to the parental unit's for yet ANOTHER crawfish boil (this is getting eff'in ridiculous people) and ended up drinking the rest of the night away at home where Jason and Reba dutifully hung out and imbibed the spirits as well.
Saturday was a lazy day, no one really wanted to do anything so we just hung around drank some more and were general wastes of perfectly good space.
Then, the event which makes me doubt my youth and vigor, the high point of our Sunday was going grocery shopping, and renting a carpet cleaner. Yes, god's day was spent eating stuff just because we have it (which is what happens after ANY red blooded american goes grocery shopping), and removing a year's worth of carpet stains left by some asshole alchy that stumbles through my house making sure he leaves a fresh coat of whiskey on the carpet during every trip from the kitchen to his computer.
Wait, that's me. Oh irony, you are a harsh mistress indeed!
Well, out of respect for the missus, I don't want to pretend I did too much of this "cleaning" thing. It was mostly her, while I was kind enough to give her a break every now and then. Of course, only long enough for the novelty of pulling a carpet cleaner to fade from what remains of my attention span. Then it was back to drinking more beer and watching more History Channel.
That was about it. I hope you've learned a lot, I know I have.
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