I can tell by osmosis that many of my readers are big fans of the cops, so I thought it was about time I talked about some of my days when I was a member of the boys in blue, the finest protectors in the world’s little brother, the police force. (The finest protectors in the world are obviously surfers; their tireless effort to protect us from sharks taking over the mainland should never be forgotten).
When I was a cop I was hardcore, that means I played by my rules, and my rules were neatly summed up in a book they gave us when we joined the police force, this book was referred to as ‘the book’ and if you decided, like me, to make your own rules basically the same as the one’s in ‘the book’ then your rules would be pretty much the same as everyone else’s on the force, and that helped us all get along way better. Hell yeah, it’s that kind of attitude which cops need to adhere to all else partners get slapped by each other, and its never manly to slap another man.
Now as a hardcore law enforcer one of my primary responsibilities was to go to schools to scare the kids straight by talking at assemblies. (And by assembly I mean the assembligation of a group of kids, I was not talking while kids like assembled model air planes or something, no, never, not this cop).
These assemblies were always poorly attended of course. I guess the bad kids were always too scared to hear the truth! That’s right police uniforms are dry-clean only, so if you become a cop you need to take that into account or else the drain in your salary from keeping a clean uniform may severely throw off your projected spending power in the up-coming fiscal year. Those bad kids, always scared to hear someone say ‘fiscal’, I know it’s hard to pronounce but that’s no reason to flee the scene kids! I would often feel very guilty after these assemblies, but not for the bad kids lack of guts. No, for my own failures, but we’ll get to that.
In these assemblies I’d get to say stuff like ‘study hard or else they’ll hold you back and make you repeat a year or two and then you’ll end up that weird older guy still in school’.
‘Hey aren’t you like 30? You’re the weird older guy in this school!’ a kid would always inevitably yell out. And as the rest of the kids burst into laughter I would remember exactly why I decided to become a cop in the first place – to crack the skulls of smart-ass kids! So I would pull out my baton and charge at the kid ready to expose his cracked skull off to the whole fucking school.
After the smart nerdy girls, who always sat up front, had tackled me, subdued me and kicked me out I’d return to the police station and my sergeant would call me into his office
‘Are you retarded?’ he would yell at me
‘Well you were the one who hired me, you tell me?’ I’d reply ‘plus why get angry if you are posing that as a question, by definition a questions should be something you are asking because you don’t know the answer and therefore you should attach no emotion to it at all until the answer is forthcoming, which of course I have not provided, so there’.
Not wanting to own up to their own stupid decision-making when choosing a new employee to be part of their police squad these ‘bosses’, as we imaginatively called them, would usually remain quiet and I’d go unpunished.
This ability of mine to twist the facts and the realities to my own advantage was a key element of my police work.
‘Case closed!’ you would often hear me yell.
Of course I never actually had any cases. ‘When you’re a rouge cop who plays by your own rules which match up neatly against their rules then they don’t give you cases’ I would say to myself when I questioned why once again they were making me stay in the office and photocopy paper work I’d seen other cops pull from the trash after hearing a ‘boss’ say ‘I don’t know, just make up something for him to do’.
Still ‘Case closed’ I would yell, because when I came to work I always packed a small suitcase in case I was sent out on undercover work, and I always packed light, so my suit case was ALWAYS easy to get closed, none of that sitting on it bullshit you see so many disgraceful over-packers do all the time. ‘Case closed’ hell yeah it was, again and again and again.
That’s why I often felt guilty after these assemblies. So often I would be kicked out by the nerdy smart girls before I had the chance to tell the kids about the importance of over packing.
‘Pack light’ I wanted to tell them kids ‘because when they kick you out of somewhere and your bag is packed lightly, the people kicking you out are way less likely to think “this is pretty heavy, maybe we’ll keep it in case it’s full of valuables” and instead will chuck it at you while you lie on the grass with a three twelve year old girls standing over you laughing!’
Is that an important lesson for the kids? Well you ask me – ‘Is that an important lesson for the kids’ I hear you asking. Hell yeah it is, ‘case closed’ you should imagine me saying, this time about the case of whether that is an important lesson for the kids or not rather than about closing my suitcase.
You see I don’t close cases any more. I have since been fired as a cop, and so no longer prepare myself for undercover work. Apparently somewhere in ‘the book’ it states that if you get kicked out of twenty seven school assemblies in one year then you get fired’. Personally, to be honest, as I cop I never actually read ‘the book’ I was too busy closing cases.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Monday, August 2, 2010
Another great underdog story
They say it’s good luck when a bird shits on you. I’m not sure why myself, seems more like it forces the washing of clothes which was invented by Ivan the terrible. You see as the Tsar of Russia, Ivan went on a terrible killing spree. The people would say ‘what’s ol’ Ivan up to?’ and the reply would come ‘Ivan’s on a terrible killing spree’ then some guy went ‘we should call him Ivan the terrible’.
Ivan had this man killed of course. This is why bullies now hand out most nicknames. It’s simple evolution. Giving out nicknames often got you killed in awful inhumane ways. So mostly only really stupid people gave them out. Like the guy who nicknamed Queen Elizabeth the 1st the ‘virgin queen’? What an idiot, while he was out thinking up nicknames he had the chance to bone a queen, and a virgin! You’d have to be nuts to pass out either of those things. And instead he stuck to nicknames and got himself drawn and quartered. And that smarts, especially when the horses are pulling your limbs off. Then there was that dude in ancient Rome who called some other bloke Steve, which back then was a terrible insult meaning ‘one with manly voice’ which in those days was insulting because men with manly voices were often forced to be leaders, which in those days wasn’t desired because they didn’t have microphones so giving speeches hurt the throat. Well that guy who called that guy Steve, had Steve turn around and said ‘you rule’, which in those days was a really mean insult, you know because of the whole sore throat element to ruling.
Over time with nicknaming few becoming stupider and stupider and therefore their offspring became stupider and stupider until we reach modern times when only the stupidest people alive have the natural instinct to nickname within them, and you got it, bullies, always the stupidest people alive.
Advice by Dave – If you ever have someone bullying go ‘nice job Steve, you Rule’ they’ll be too stupid to know the reference and it’ll confuse them so much they’ll poo their pants.
Please note – result may differ if the bullies name is Steve.
In Ivan’s case the reception of the nickname ‘Ivan the terrible’ did of course result in the nicknamer to be tortured cruelly (one of his ancestors went on to be the bully who nicknamed New York’s the naked cowboy ‘the naked cowboy’ clearly failing to notice that this man is always wearing underpants, seriously what a moron). But it also hurt Ivan’s feelings terribly. And when he told his number two in command ‘my feelings hurt terribly’ and his number two went ‘Ha ha, like Ivan the terrible’ you guessed it, beheaded! Now Ivan felt even worse, not only did he have a nickname that hurt his feelings terribly but he had just beheaded his best friend.
There was only one thing for it. He needed to go out and shag as many women as possible to get his mind off it. He set to his new task with a vigor people hadn’t seen in him since his last murder spree. Yet still he wasn’t happy. ‘Why aren’t you happy Ivan?’ someone once fortuitously asked him. ‘Because some of the girls smell bad’ came the reply.
In an instant the word was put out, if you want Ivan to pork you instead of kill you, then you damn well better smell decent. ‘But how?’ said a young lady by the name of Madeline Washing. Then she went ‘bingo’ which then was a word meaning ‘dinner is ready’ and while she sat and ate dinner with her family she noticed a lot of them were wiping grease and shit on their clothes, and she thought to herself ‘what a waste of grease and shit’. Furious at her family for their waste, she made her son try and extract the wasted food from his shirt, he failed miserably, as he just chucked his shirt in the river and said ‘get it out yourself mum, you slut!’ Madeline was crushed, her food was wasted, her son hated her, and she remembered that she was married with kids, and so probably not the kind of lay the tsar was looking for anyway.
Dejected, she went down to the river to collect the shirt, and finding it stuck in a tree, she pulled it free and discovered in was kind of cleaner than it had been. She named this new process ‘Washing’ after her surname, because people were all show offs back then.
She never did get to screw the tsar, but washing took off, some people still practice it even today! Still a bird pooing on you lucky? Yeah right, like I am going to support something that originated from nicknaming!
So this one time a friend of mine, Leaves, was pooed on by a bird. He showed up at work that day with a big poo stain on his shirt. And someone said to him ‘hey nice poo stain, you should buy a lottery ticket’ and so he bought a lottery ticket and did NOT win, and vowed from that day on that birds pooing on you clearly wasn’t good luck, and that hard work was what got people what they wanted.
He started telling people ‘hey man, you know when someone says a bird pooing on you is good luck, well that’s bullshit man’ and they’d go ‘no bird shit, not bullshit’ and he’d be like ‘don’t test me man’ and they’d be like ‘hey have you ever realized that bird shit is two words yet bullshit is one word, that’s speciest!’ and he would get all upset and want to fight back, sometimes he would get so enraged that he would even think about nicknaming some of these people. But he wouldn’t go out like that ‘not this guy man’ he would say. And then people were like ‘you can’t say guy and man back to back, it’s not good English’ and that would really piss him off.
The forty second time after this series of events took place he snapped. A bird pooing on him had started this path to horror. People had told him at the time that it was good luck and instead it had sent his life spiraling out of control to the point of people correcting his English, which is of course one of the most evil things humans can do (except in Estonia where it is considered polite! Ahh Estonians, they are so cute yet so fucked up).
Leaves swore revenge. If a bird pooing on him could ruin his life then he was going to return the favor. Yep, that’s right, he was going to poo on a bird. Hell yeah he was.
It was not going to be easy. Birds aren’t easy to target, and pooing isn’t easy to control.
Little known fact: Guns are not designed after the human digestion system!
But Leaves was determined. He trained hard. He ate lots of fiber. And one day he came out from his training facilities, spotted a target, ran at it with the speed and grace of a Springbok, leapt to his feet, and while somersaulting through the air he pulled down his pants and projectile fired out a turd right into the head of one of the losers who said ‘a bird pooing on you is good luck’.
And he yelled ‘a bird pooing on you good luck. A human pooing on you great skill! Take that Steve!’ (This guys name was Steve, so don’t you go label Leaves one of these nicknaming psychos!).
Leaves still hasn’t managed to poo on a bird (he is adamant a Canary in a cage doesn’t count, some people are weird I guess) but he continues to try until this very day, and I think he will get there, because in the end if the underdog doesn’t win some people are like ‘why are we watching this, we can see the underdog lose in real life all the time’ and the answer is of course ‘because if the end doesn’t surprise you at least occasionally there will never be any suspense in any stories you loser’.
Also if you ever have a bird poo on you and someone says ‘hey bird poo, that’s good luck, yay’ tell them ‘no it ain’t’ then give Leaves a call, and he’ll show them the real meaning of Christmas, wait I mean he’ll totally poo in their face for you, especially if they are a bunch of birds dressed in a human man suit. (This is not the source of the two birds one stone saying, but if your poos are stone like please see a doctor).
Ivan had this man killed of course. This is why bullies now hand out most nicknames. It’s simple evolution. Giving out nicknames often got you killed in awful inhumane ways. So mostly only really stupid people gave them out. Like the guy who nicknamed Queen Elizabeth the 1st the ‘virgin queen’? What an idiot, while he was out thinking up nicknames he had the chance to bone a queen, and a virgin! You’d have to be nuts to pass out either of those things. And instead he stuck to nicknames and got himself drawn and quartered. And that smarts, especially when the horses are pulling your limbs off. Then there was that dude in ancient Rome who called some other bloke Steve, which back then was a terrible insult meaning ‘one with manly voice’ which in those days was insulting because men with manly voices were often forced to be leaders, which in those days wasn’t desired because they didn’t have microphones so giving speeches hurt the throat. Well that guy who called that guy Steve, had Steve turn around and said ‘you rule’, which in those days was a really mean insult, you know because of the whole sore throat element to ruling.
Over time with nicknaming few becoming stupider and stupider and therefore their offspring became stupider and stupider until we reach modern times when only the stupidest people alive have the natural instinct to nickname within them, and you got it, bullies, always the stupidest people alive.
Advice by Dave – If you ever have someone bullying go ‘nice job Steve, you Rule’ they’ll be too stupid to know the reference and it’ll confuse them so much they’ll poo their pants.
Please note – result may differ if the bullies name is Steve.
In Ivan’s case the reception of the nickname ‘Ivan the terrible’ did of course result in the nicknamer to be tortured cruelly (one of his ancestors went on to be the bully who nicknamed New York’s the naked cowboy ‘the naked cowboy’ clearly failing to notice that this man is always wearing underpants, seriously what a moron). But it also hurt Ivan’s feelings terribly. And when he told his number two in command ‘my feelings hurt terribly’ and his number two went ‘Ha ha, like Ivan the terrible’ you guessed it, beheaded! Now Ivan felt even worse, not only did he have a nickname that hurt his feelings terribly but he had just beheaded his best friend.
There was only one thing for it. He needed to go out and shag as many women as possible to get his mind off it. He set to his new task with a vigor people hadn’t seen in him since his last murder spree. Yet still he wasn’t happy. ‘Why aren’t you happy Ivan?’ someone once fortuitously asked him. ‘Because some of the girls smell bad’ came the reply.
In an instant the word was put out, if you want Ivan to pork you instead of kill you, then you damn well better smell decent. ‘But how?’ said a young lady by the name of Madeline Washing. Then she went ‘bingo’ which then was a word meaning ‘dinner is ready’ and while she sat and ate dinner with her family she noticed a lot of them were wiping grease and shit on their clothes, and she thought to herself ‘what a waste of grease and shit’. Furious at her family for their waste, she made her son try and extract the wasted food from his shirt, he failed miserably, as he just chucked his shirt in the river and said ‘get it out yourself mum, you slut!’ Madeline was crushed, her food was wasted, her son hated her, and she remembered that she was married with kids, and so probably not the kind of lay the tsar was looking for anyway.
Dejected, she went down to the river to collect the shirt, and finding it stuck in a tree, she pulled it free and discovered in was kind of cleaner than it had been. She named this new process ‘Washing’ after her surname, because people were all show offs back then.
She never did get to screw the tsar, but washing took off, some people still practice it even today! Still a bird pooing on you lucky? Yeah right, like I am going to support something that originated from nicknaming!
So this one time a friend of mine, Leaves, was pooed on by a bird. He showed up at work that day with a big poo stain on his shirt. And someone said to him ‘hey nice poo stain, you should buy a lottery ticket’ and so he bought a lottery ticket and did NOT win, and vowed from that day on that birds pooing on you clearly wasn’t good luck, and that hard work was what got people what they wanted.
He started telling people ‘hey man, you know when someone says a bird pooing on you is good luck, well that’s bullshit man’ and they’d go ‘no bird shit, not bullshit’ and he’d be like ‘don’t test me man’ and they’d be like ‘hey have you ever realized that bird shit is two words yet bullshit is one word, that’s speciest!’ and he would get all upset and want to fight back, sometimes he would get so enraged that he would even think about nicknaming some of these people. But he wouldn’t go out like that ‘not this guy man’ he would say. And then people were like ‘you can’t say guy and man back to back, it’s not good English’ and that would really piss him off.
The forty second time after this series of events took place he snapped. A bird pooing on him had started this path to horror. People had told him at the time that it was good luck and instead it had sent his life spiraling out of control to the point of people correcting his English, which is of course one of the most evil things humans can do (except in Estonia where it is considered polite! Ahh Estonians, they are so cute yet so fucked up).
Leaves swore revenge. If a bird pooing on him could ruin his life then he was going to return the favor. Yep, that’s right, he was going to poo on a bird. Hell yeah he was.
It was not going to be easy. Birds aren’t easy to target, and pooing isn’t easy to control.
Little known fact: Guns are not designed after the human digestion system!
But Leaves was determined. He trained hard. He ate lots of fiber. And one day he came out from his training facilities, spotted a target, ran at it with the speed and grace of a Springbok, leapt to his feet, and while somersaulting through the air he pulled down his pants and projectile fired out a turd right into the head of one of the losers who said ‘a bird pooing on you is good luck’.
And he yelled ‘a bird pooing on you good luck. A human pooing on you great skill! Take that Steve!’ (This guys name was Steve, so don’t you go label Leaves one of these nicknaming psychos!).
Leaves still hasn’t managed to poo on a bird (he is adamant a Canary in a cage doesn’t count, some people are weird I guess) but he continues to try until this very day, and I think he will get there, because in the end if the underdog doesn’t win some people are like ‘why are we watching this, we can see the underdog lose in real life all the time’ and the answer is of course ‘because if the end doesn’t surprise you at least occasionally there will never be any suspense in any stories you loser’.
Also if you ever have a bird poo on you and someone says ‘hey bird poo, that’s good luck, yay’ tell them ‘no it ain’t’ then give Leaves a call, and he’ll show them the real meaning of Christmas, wait I mean he’ll totally poo in their face for you, especially if they are a bunch of birds dressed in a human man suit. (This is not the source of the two birds one stone saying, but if your poos are stone like please see a doctor).
Thursday, July 22, 2010
I'm blind to it
I decided to do some cleaning up this week. I usually use the gradual approach to housework, where I’ll let everything get about as dirty as possible and then work on cleaning it over several days while doing stuff adjacent to the mess.
So I decided to clean the kitchen for a change. I usually do this while cooking because doing either by themselves is too boring for me. I often need to have two activities going at once. I watch TV and read at the same time. I sleep and sleepwalk. I eat and write. As I am writing this I will flick across several websites. My brain just works like this.
So I am cleaning and cooking, and over the course of doing this over a couple of days through various meals I get the mountain of dishes under control, and have the kitchen to a Dave level of cleanliness (exactly equal to a female ‘this is disgusting’ level). And a day or so later I scan the room to see if it’s worth cooking and cleaning of if I should just order pizza, when I realize something. There is a dirty pot on the stove that I never even moved to the sink. I wondered why for a moment when it occurred to me I hadn’t moved it because I hadn’t noticed it, and that the reason I hadn’t noticed it is because I wasn’t the one who used it, and therefore it is invisible to me!
Seriously invisible! The truth of the matter is I don’t clean for myself one little bit. I am more than happy to live in absolute squalor. If I lived the way my instincts want me to I would use nothing but plastic cutlery and paper plates, drink from the cans and bottles, never clean the bathroom no matter how disgusting it got, and take the trash out once a month or so. It’s not that I am gross it’s that I am a guy, and we have better things to do, like watching sports and eating deep fried things. A clean house doesn’t add to your life it only takes valuable time away.
I was thinking about this when I was looking at that dish. Why do I clean what I do clean? Purely and simply it is because I don’t want to get in trouble for leaving a mess that someone else has to clean and I don’t want people to know how disgusting I really am. Every bit of cleaning I do is how much it takes to do the very minimum I can do to try and facilitate those two goals.
When I look at a mess my mind is now finally tuned to only see the things I made and therefore the things I can be judged on. I can’t get in trouble for a pot someone else left so I literally don’t even see it.
I wonder if this is just the unique me, but I suspect that it is the same in every guys brain. The lesson is if I ever live with a significant other come visit me, if the place is a mess I’m in a happy relationship; if it’s clean I need help getting out please.
Also I saw ghostworld, or ghostland or whatever the Ricky Gervais one is in the past week and that dudes apartment in that movie was spotless, not a single item of clothing on the ground, now dirty dishes in the sink, and before the character is even revealed I know he is going to be very stuck in his ways, close minded, controlling, and selfish. That’s what really clean guys are like. So my advice to the ladies is think twice before you complain about your messy partners, for one he literally can’t see the mess, and if it was different he’d probably be a controlling prick.
So I decided to clean the kitchen for a change. I usually do this while cooking because doing either by themselves is too boring for me. I often need to have two activities going at once. I watch TV and read at the same time. I sleep and sleepwalk. I eat and write. As I am writing this I will flick across several websites. My brain just works like this.
So I am cleaning and cooking, and over the course of doing this over a couple of days through various meals I get the mountain of dishes under control, and have the kitchen to a Dave level of cleanliness (exactly equal to a female ‘this is disgusting’ level). And a day or so later I scan the room to see if it’s worth cooking and cleaning of if I should just order pizza, when I realize something. There is a dirty pot on the stove that I never even moved to the sink. I wondered why for a moment when it occurred to me I hadn’t moved it because I hadn’t noticed it, and that the reason I hadn’t noticed it is because I wasn’t the one who used it, and therefore it is invisible to me!
Seriously invisible! The truth of the matter is I don’t clean for myself one little bit. I am more than happy to live in absolute squalor. If I lived the way my instincts want me to I would use nothing but plastic cutlery and paper plates, drink from the cans and bottles, never clean the bathroom no matter how disgusting it got, and take the trash out once a month or so. It’s not that I am gross it’s that I am a guy, and we have better things to do, like watching sports and eating deep fried things. A clean house doesn’t add to your life it only takes valuable time away.
I was thinking about this when I was looking at that dish. Why do I clean what I do clean? Purely and simply it is because I don’t want to get in trouble for leaving a mess that someone else has to clean and I don’t want people to know how disgusting I really am. Every bit of cleaning I do is how much it takes to do the very minimum I can do to try and facilitate those two goals.
When I look at a mess my mind is now finally tuned to only see the things I made and therefore the things I can be judged on. I can’t get in trouble for a pot someone else left so I literally don’t even see it.
I wonder if this is just the unique me, but I suspect that it is the same in every guys brain. The lesson is if I ever live with a significant other come visit me, if the place is a mess I’m in a happy relationship; if it’s clean I need help getting out please.
Also I saw ghostworld, or ghostland or whatever the Ricky Gervais one is in the past week and that dudes apartment in that movie was spotless, not a single item of clothing on the ground, now dirty dishes in the sink, and before the character is even revealed I know he is going to be very stuck in his ways, close minded, controlling, and selfish. That’s what really clean guys are like. So my advice to the ladies is think twice before you complain about your messy partners, for one he literally can’t see the mess, and if it was different he’d probably be a controlling prick.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Speaking of advertisements
Speaking of advertisements
Do you guys remember those commercials where the aliens came to earth and proceeded to enslave all human beings and then found a way to take over our brains in a way which to create a new universe wide peace monitoring love helmet, and then having declared universal harmonization they took up stand up comedy, doing mostly jokes about how hard dating is when your genitals are in a jar which hovers above your head, but those jokes became cliche and were hard to relate to by a lot of humans because our genitals are rarely in jars, and almost never in jars AND hovering about our heads, so the aliens gave up comedy and went into politics creating a brand new political system where all decisions were made through a complicated series of games where the only rules were there were no rules, until that made it hard to tell who was winning so they brought in a few obvious rules like no poking opponents in eyes, because that stings, although poking people in the genital jar hovering about their heads was allowed, obviously cause it's hilarious, and these were comically minded aliens after all, and sadly like most comically minded people they had a dark side, and began to drink and after a while they would let their genitals climb out of their jar for any old whore just to escape their miserable lives for the briefest of moments.
I don't remember those commercials at all. Because some ad campaigns are stupid. I think they were for a soda, or car of some sort that had an awesome drink holder for your sodas.
I guess what I am trying to say, is should anyone be so inclined I would totally love it if you could write a review of my book, or say something nice about me over at Amazon, I really need to start selling those things. Thankyou!
http://www.amazon.com/Losing-My-Virginity-Times-ebook/dp/B003VYBREA/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2
Do you guys remember those commercials where the aliens came to earth and proceeded to enslave all human beings and then found a way to take over our brains in a way which to create a new universe wide peace monitoring love helmet, and then having declared universal harmonization they took up stand up comedy, doing mostly jokes about how hard dating is when your genitals are in a jar which hovers above your head, but those jokes became cliche and were hard to relate to by a lot of humans because our genitals are rarely in jars, and almost never in jars AND hovering about our heads, so the aliens gave up comedy and went into politics creating a brand new political system where all decisions were made through a complicated series of games where the only rules were there were no rules, until that made it hard to tell who was winning so they brought in a few obvious rules like no poking opponents in eyes, because that stings, although poking people in the genital jar hovering about their heads was allowed, obviously cause it's hilarious, and these were comically minded aliens after all, and sadly like most comically minded people they had a dark side, and began to drink and after a while they would let their genitals climb out of their jar for any old whore just to escape their miserable lives for the briefest of moments.
I don't remember those commercials at all. Because some ad campaigns are stupid. I think they were for a soda, or car of some sort that had an awesome drink holder for your sodas.
I guess what I am trying to say, is should anyone be so inclined I would totally love it if you could write a review of my book, or say something nice about me over at Amazon, I really need to start selling those things. Thankyou!
http://www.amazon.com/Losing-My-Virginity-Times-ebook/dp/B003VYBREA/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2
Saturday, July 17, 2010
This is information you're going to want to have
Oh sorry, I was just distracted for a moment. You see I was just remembering the last time I had to fill out the “timeless submission form”.
‘What is the “timeless submission form?”’ I hear you ask.
You don’t know what the timeless submission form is?
Seriously?
Seriously?
You know the world makes me sad sometimes.
Actually, you know what. Ok. Ok. I guess I can remember a time when I didn’t know yet. It was a sad time, and if I hadn’t been helped out by a kind stranger I met in a dark ally one night who whispered ‘hey man, give me your wallet or I’ll kill you’ so I kneed him in the nads, and then ran down the street, and then went to a bar and got a drink to calm my nerves, and then I had a bunch, and then I went to he mall the next day, and when I was at that mall I bought the t-shirt I was wearing when I found out about the “timeless submission form”, so I guess I know how you’re feeling right now, so I’ll fill you in. (Ha ha, fill you in, like a form!)
First off there are a lot of awesome things about the “timeless submission form” that I should let you know about right off the bat.
1. It’s timeless, so that’s good. No watches needed. You don’t have to set an alarm to make sure you are up in time for it. By the way one time my alarm didn’t go off and I wake up way later and I’m thinking ‘hey my alarm didn’t go off so I slept well but then missed a very important meeting, which is a good thing mixed with a bad thing, and that’s just what I hate about stuff, you know its good and bad and stuff, so that’s kind of depressing’ but I digress, because the “timeless submission form” is hell yeah awesome and I hate to sully the fact that the timeless nature of it is part of that.
2. It’s a submission form so you can pretty much guarantee that most times the form will be submissive, you know or else the form would be lying with its very name and there ain’t no fucking way that people are going to get away with lying on the very name of a form and still have that form end up being implemented into the official form registry, especially when the form is related to escalators. Oh shit, I just gave away part of what the form is about at an early time than I planned. I am sorry. Still, a submissive form, you better believe that’s an awesome element to a form. So many forms fight back these days. These fucking forms that come armed at your first meeting, I hate those things. Guns, knives. It’s sickening. Yes I am going to poke you with a pen; IT’S YOUR JOB TO TAKE IT!!!!! DEAL WITH IT!!!!! You know, don’t sign up to be a form if you don’t want to deal with the realities of the job, that’s all I am saying. So yeah I form that just lies on the table and takes it, that’s my kind of form!
3. It’s a form. Actually I wouldn’t say that’s one of my favorite things about it. Still it’s better than it being like a laundry basket surely. I mean what can you do with a laundry basket, put laundry in it, use it for a makeshift cage if you catch bats in your attic, make an ironic fancy dress costume. That’s like IT. Where as forms have endless possibilities. There is a form you fill out when you get married, and there is another form you fill out when you get divorced! Seriously! That’s the truth. That’s forms that do the opposite of each other. The opposite! A guitar is awesome, but can it do the opposite of allow a musician to make awesome guitar music with it? Hell no. A TV is awesome, but can a TV do the opposite of display a wide arrange of entertainment options? Fuck no. Forms can do the opposite, and they deserve all the praise they get. People are always getting mad when another celebrity comes out in support of forms “you’re rich and famous, so it’s easy for you to support forms” people are always yelling. Yeah well forms great, and that’s the opposite of shit.
4. The “timeless submission form” is also a rare form printed on orange paper. Sure it’s because of a major fuck up by a paper delivery company which caused three people to get fired, but an orange form? Ha ha orange.
5. It’s made of paper, that means it used to be a tree! Wow, it’s like technology at work. How can you not marvel. Wow, marvel, wow.
‘Have you filled out the “timeless submission form”?’ I was asked once
‘No, should I have’ I replied
‘You don’t have to, but I recommend it’ the answer came back.
Do you know one day someone asked me if I had tried Diet Dr Pepper, and when I said no he was like ‘you should check it out, I recommend it’ and now I drink it everyday! I love it. Right there that is proof, iron clad proof, that recommendations can work in someone’s favor. So when someone recommends I fill out a form I check that shit out.
By the way, a car just drove by out my window. Those are made by stuff they got out of the ground! The ground! Where worms and other various un-seeable to the naked eye parasites live! I’m telling you people technology is amazing. I totally recommend checking it out, this shit is going to take off one day, and you’re going to feel like a nerd if you’re not part of the craze.
Now I am not one for embarrassing admissions, like the time I was on a volcano, and I saw smoke and freaked out, but then it was just a guy smoking, and when I noticed I was like ‘smoking is bad for your health’ and he was like ‘I know, but I do it anyway, how do you like me now bitch’, well I would never admit that I cried because someone called me a bitch, but I did, because I don’t like nasty words than can be not nasty if they use them in their original and proper manner, its rude. But I am telling you this now because I want you to feel fine with admitting to yourself if you have yet to make technology part of your life. It’s not too late, I swear.
By the way one bit of technology I don’t like is the escalator. I originally planned for this statement to be mind blowing, but I already mentioned the escalator earlier so I understand if you didn’t get the effect I desired. That’s my fault; don’t cry for me I make my own decisions. But seriously, escalators, we have stairs and then after shit loads of research the best thing they can come up with to improve this is moving stairs. I am sorry, that’s not good enough. They used to turn trees into forms, and metals and oils in the ground into cars, now they turn stairs into moving stairs. That’s failure in my eyes. Where are the float bubbles, where are the imagination movement facilitating transformation booths. That’s the technology I was taught to love, so escalators are a failure technology. Plus they’re lazy, but if you want to be lazy that’s your own privilege.
By the way who invented the ceiling fan? ‘Fuck it’s hot in here; you know what would be great? If we could attach something to the ceiling to make this exact same air move gently!’ That’s technology failure. Where is the temperature morphing logical flags? It’s technology catastrophe!!!!!
Ok, now that you know the facts, I think you’re heady to hear the truth – what is the “timeless submission form”? Well here is the brilliant thing. Hell Yeah Brilliant Awesomnessous!!
If you now go to any building which has installed escalators, you can request to see management, and then ask to fill out a “timeless submission form” and on this form, along with listing you name, address, tax details, medical history, and submitting a urine and blood test, and hair DNA sample, family history, the name of any people you ever and ‘impure thoughts’ about, you also get to fill out a question that asks ‘Any other comments?’ And right in this convenient location you can write “I think escalators are technology failure”.
That’s right. Right motherfucking there on the “Timeless Submission Form”!!! Can you believe it?
But wait, it gets even better.
If you ever get arrested for a violent crime you can ask to have this official complaint introduced as evidence that you are a forward thinking individual, and because the form is timeless it will always be there, and get this, once you make this request the judge will say ‘dually noticed’. That’s like proper court talk. How cool is that.
So do I recommend the “Timeless Submission Form” you better believe I do. And like I have proven, recommendations kick ass.
‘What is the “timeless submission form?”’ I hear you ask.
You don’t know what the timeless submission form is?
Seriously?
Seriously?
You know the world makes me sad sometimes.
Actually, you know what. Ok. Ok. I guess I can remember a time when I didn’t know yet. It was a sad time, and if I hadn’t been helped out by a kind stranger I met in a dark ally one night who whispered ‘hey man, give me your wallet or I’ll kill you’ so I kneed him in the nads, and then ran down the street, and then went to a bar and got a drink to calm my nerves, and then I had a bunch, and then I went to he mall the next day, and when I was at that mall I bought the t-shirt I was wearing when I found out about the “timeless submission form”, so I guess I know how you’re feeling right now, so I’ll fill you in. (Ha ha, fill you in, like a form!)
First off there are a lot of awesome things about the “timeless submission form” that I should let you know about right off the bat.
1. It’s timeless, so that’s good. No watches needed. You don’t have to set an alarm to make sure you are up in time for it. By the way one time my alarm didn’t go off and I wake up way later and I’m thinking ‘hey my alarm didn’t go off so I slept well but then missed a very important meeting, which is a good thing mixed with a bad thing, and that’s just what I hate about stuff, you know its good and bad and stuff, so that’s kind of depressing’ but I digress, because the “timeless submission form” is hell yeah awesome and I hate to sully the fact that the timeless nature of it is part of that.
2. It’s a submission form so you can pretty much guarantee that most times the form will be submissive, you know or else the form would be lying with its very name and there ain’t no fucking way that people are going to get away with lying on the very name of a form and still have that form end up being implemented into the official form registry, especially when the form is related to escalators. Oh shit, I just gave away part of what the form is about at an early time than I planned. I am sorry. Still, a submissive form, you better believe that’s an awesome element to a form. So many forms fight back these days. These fucking forms that come armed at your first meeting, I hate those things. Guns, knives. It’s sickening. Yes I am going to poke you with a pen; IT’S YOUR JOB TO TAKE IT!!!!! DEAL WITH IT!!!!! You know, don’t sign up to be a form if you don’t want to deal with the realities of the job, that’s all I am saying. So yeah I form that just lies on the table and takes it, that’s my kind of form!
3. It’s a form. Actually I wouldn’t say that’s one of my favorite things about it. Still it’s better than it being like a laundry basket surely. I mean what can you do with a laundry basket, put laundry in it, use it for a makeshift cage if you catch bats in your attic, make an ironic fancy dress costume. That’s like IT. Where as forms have endless possibilities. There is a form you fill out when you get married, and there is another form you fill out when you get divorced! Seriously! That’s the truth. That’s forms that do the opposite of each other. The opposite! A guitar is awesome, but can it do the opposite of allow a musician to make awesome guitar music with it? Hell no. A TV is awesome, but can a TV do the opposite of display a wide arrange of entertainment options? Fuck no. Forms can do the opposite, and they deserve all the praise they get. People are always getting mad when another celebrity comes out in support of forms “you’re rich and famous, so it’s easy for you to support forms” people are always yelling. Yeah well forms great, and that’s the opposite of shit.
4. The “timeless submission form” is also a rare form printed on orange paper. Sure it’s because of a major fuck up by a paper delivery company which caused three people to get fired, but an orange form? Ha ha orange.
5. It’s made of paper, that means it used to be a tree! Wow, it’s like technology at work. How can you not marvel. Wow, marvel, wow.
‘Have you filled out the “timeless submission form”?’ I was asked once
‘No, should I have’ I replied
‘You don’t have to, but I recommend it’ the answer came back.
Do you know one day someone asked me if I had tried Diet Dr Pepper, and when I said no he was like ‘you should check it out, I recommend it’ and now I drink it everyday! I love it. Right there that is proof, iron clad proof, that recommendations can work in someone’s favor. So when someone recommends I fill out a form I check that shit out.
By the way, a car just drove by out my window. Those are made by stuff they got out of the ground! The ground! Where worms and other various un-seeable to the naked eye parasites live! I’m telling you people technology is amazing. I totally recommend checking it out, this shit is going to take off one day, and you’re going to feel like a nerd if you’re not part of the craze.
Now I am not one for embarrassing admissions, like the time I was on a volcano, and I saw smoke and freaked out, but then it was just a guy smoking, and when I noticed I was like ‘smoking is bad for your health’ and he was like ‘I know, but I do it anyway, how do you like me now bitch’, well I would never admit that I cried because someone called me a bitch, but I did, because I don’t like nasty words than can be not nasty if they use them in their original and proper manner, its rude. But I am telling you this now because I want you to feel fine with admitting to yourself if you have yet to make technology part of your life. It’s not too late, I swear.
By the way one bit of technology I don’t like is the escalator. I originally planned for this statement to be mind blowing, but I already mentioned the escalator earlier so I understand if you didn’t get the effect I desired. That’s my fault; don’t cry for me I make my own decisions. But seriously, escalators, we have stairs and then after shit loads of research the best thing they can come up with to improve this is moving stairs. I am sorry, that’s not good enough. They used to turn trees into forms, and metals and oils in the ground into cars, now they turn stairs into moving stairs. That’s failure in my eyes. Where are the float bubbles, where are the imagination movement facilitating transformation booths. That’s the technology I was taught to love, so escalators are a failure technology. Plus they’re lazy, but if you want to be lazy that’s your own privilege.
By the way who invented the ceiling fan? ‘Fuck it’s hot in here; you know what would be great? If we could attach something to the ceiling to make this exact same air move gently!’ That’s technology failure. Where is the temperature morphing logical flags? It’s technology catastrophe!!!!!
Ok, now that you know the facts, I think you’re heady to hear the truth – what is the “timeless submission form”? Well here is the brilliant thing. Hell Yeah Brilliant Awesomnessous!!
If you now go to any building which has installed escalators, you can request to see management, and then ask to fill out a “timeless submission form” and on this form, along with listing you name, address, tax details, medical history, and submitting a urine and blood test, and hair DNA sample, family history, the name of any people you ever and ‘impure thoughts’ about, you also get to fill out a question that asks ‘Any other comments?’ And right in this convenient location you can write “I think escalators are technology failure”.
That’s right. Right motherfucking there on the “Timeless Submission Form”!!! Can you believe it?
But wait, it gets even better.
If you ever get arrested for a violent crime you can ask to have this official complaint introduced as evidence that you are a forward thinking individual, and because the form is timeless it will always be there, and get this, once you make this request the judge will say ‘dually noticed’. That’s like proper court talk. How cool is that.
So do I recommend the “Timeless Submission Form” you better believe I do. And like I have proven, recommendations kick ass.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Powers beyond us and stuff dealy
It’s been an interesting week this week.
I finally relented and am trying a new sleeping aid this week. I try and stay away from them because if they work I become horribly addicted and then I use them too much and then they stop working and my sleep gets even worse. (Unless awesome sporting events are on in the middle of the night - in which case can't sleep, hell yeah I can't!). Anyway Nyquil entered my life two days ago, so far three great nights sleep, and three days where I can barely wake up. You know that haziness you have for the first ten minutes after you wake up when you haven't had enough sleep and consider suicide so you can jump back into it, I have that all day now. Fun! (I now understand how people watch all the crap that's on TV, it's not that they like it, it's just no energy to change the channel). I may stick with the Nyquil for a while, but then again I may also currently be a zombie and everyone is too afraid to tell me that my brains are hanging out incase I turn around and eat theirs. Also of course, one of the problems with sleep aids is for those of us inclined towards sleep walking they can increase the risks, the good news is based on my exhaustion and forehead tattoo that says “I got tattooed in Nebraska” I think I dodged that bullet.
By the way I just watched a big gangster looking black guy and a multiple head tattooed biker dude have a
“You go first”
“No you go first”
“No I insist”
Argument over who should enter a bookshop first. Hollywood can be adorable sometimes.
Plus I once wrote a novel called “face tattoo in Nebraska”. It’s about a teenager whose parents move him to Nebraska and he tries to find a way to get revenge on them but can’t figure anything out so just ends up getting a bunch of face tattoos. It’s your traditional coming of age teenage comedy romp!
We had an earthquake this week in LA. It was the second one I have felt and easily the strongest. This one felt like waves coming rolling in and apart from the surfer who splat against my window it wasn’t so bad.
Earthquakes are a weird experience here. They happen often enough that you’re not instantly scared that it’s the big one, but before you allow yourself to enjoy it you find yourself taking a moment to look around and see what could fall on you. This is where you thank god for once you don’t have a massive wall mounted TV. And it’s now that you remember that your upstairs neighbor often makes so much noise you suspect he has a pet elephant so you get to imagine what it would feel like to have an elephant crash through the ceiling and land on you. (I think it would be kind of like drowning in the sewer, you’d die but it would be worth it to experience the unique smell).
It’s kind of like when you’re taking off in a plane. You don’t believe it’s going to crash but you can’t help but pick out which flight attendant you’ll try to get to have one last hook up with, and decide which crying baby is so annoying that you’ll make a point of eating it first when you get lodged on a mountain (the answer is all of them – mmm baby back ribs).
I also went to church for the first time in years this week. My first huge big, musical extravangza American church experience! Church for me is always equal parts enlightening and inspiring, full of love and support and yet equal parts bat-shit crazy. It’s like the city bus – it gets you where you want to go quick and conveniently but you have to feel like a bag is about to be thrown over your head before you’re locked in a dungeon and forced to listen to choir music for hours.
By the way I once heard a woman in church exclaim “all you need is love” and John Lennon said that and he chose Yoko Ono over an endless string of horny groupies, and THAT’s bat-shit crazy.
Also this week Alicia Keys New York song has made me officially no longer dream of living in New York, so I need a new dream city. At the moment I am thinking Minnesota, I heard there is a heat wave there right now and I’m a sucker for a warm climate.
Besides did you know that 20% of New York residents never sleep walk into ongoing traffic – NEVER – that’s no town for me!
Read more: http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.ListAll&bID=536959442#ixzz0tL8wOhPd
I finally relented and am trying a new sleeping aid this week. I try and stay away from them because if they work I become horribly addicted and then I use them too much and then they stop working and my sleep gets even worse. (Unless awesome sporting events are on in the middle of the night - in which case can't sleep, hell yeah I can't!). Anyway Nyquil entered my life two days ago, so far three great nights sleep, and three days where I can barely wake up. You know that haziness you have for the first ten minutes after you wake up when you haven't had enough sleep and consider suicide so you can jump back into it, I have that all day now. Fun! (I now understand how people watch all the crap that's on TV, it's not that they like it, it's just no energy to change the channel). I may stick with the Nyquil for a while, but then again I may also currently be a zombie and everyone is too afraid to tell me that my brains are hanging out incase I turn around and eat theirs. Also of course, one of the problems with sleep aids is for those of us inclined towards sleep walking they can increase the risks, the good news is based on my exhaustion and forehead tattoo that says “I got tattooed in Nebraska” I think I dodged that bullet.
By the way I just watched a big gangster looking black guy and a multiple head tattooed biker dude have a
“You go first”
“No you go first”
“No I insist”
Argument over who should enter a bookshop first. Hollywood can be adorable sometimes.
Plus I once wrote a novel called “face tattoo in Nebraska”. It’s about a teenager whose parents move him to Nebraska and he tries to find a way to get revenge on them but can’t figure anything out so just ends up getting a bunch of face tattoos. It’s your traditional coming of age teenage comedy romp!
We had an earthquake this week in LA. It was the second one I have felt and easily the strongest. This one felt like waves coming rolling in and apart from the surfer who splat against my window it wasn’t so bad.
Earthquakes are a weird experience here. They happen often enough that you’re not instantly scared that it’s the big one, but before you allow yourself to enjoy it you find yourself taking a moment to look around and see what could fall on you. This is where you thank god for once you don’t have a massive wall mounted TV. And it’s now that you remember that your upstairs neighbor often makes so much noise you suspect he has a pet elephant so you get to imagine what it would feel like to have an elephant crash through the ceiling and land on you. (I think it would be kind of like drowning in the sewer, you’d die but it would be worth it to experience the unique smell).
It’s kind of like when you’re taking off in a plane. You don’t believe it’s going to crash but you can’t help but pick out which flight attendant you’ll try to get to have one last hook up with, and decide which crying baby is so annoying that you’ll make a point of eating it first when you get lodged on a mountain (the answer is all of them – mmm baby back ribs).
I also went to church for the first time in years this week. My first huge big, musical extravangza American church experience! Church for me is always equal parts enlightening and inspiring, full of love and support and yet equal parts bat-shit crazy. It’s like the city bus – it gets you where you want to go quick and conveniently but you have to feel like a bag is about to be thrown over your head before you’re locked in a dungeon and forced to listen to choir music for hours.
By the way I once heard a woman in church exclaim “all you need is love” and John Lennon said that and he chose Yoko Ono over an endless string of horny groupies, and THAT’s bat-shit crazy.
Also this week Alicia Keys New York song has made me officially no longer dream of living in New York, so I need a new dream city. At the moment I am thinking Minnesota, I heard there is a heat wave there right now and I’m a sucker for a warm climate.
Besides did you know that 20% of New York residents never sleep walk into ongoing traffic – NEVER – that’s no town for me!
Read more: http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.ListAll&bID=536959442#ixzz0tL8wOhPd
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Friday, July 2, 2010
Didn't die ALL year!!!
Two of my best friends and my Ok, intriguing: Hell Yeah! co-hosts birthdays are this week, yay. Happy birthday Faith and Eliza!!!!
So here are some things you may not know about presents
- If you're at a bridal shower dealy and you're on a TV show always buy a vibrator for a gift because that will shock the older ladies you didn't think were going to be there (older ladies on TV only use fingers when cleaning out their ears, cue-tips can cause ear infections, if you know what I mean).
- If the person whom your celebrating works in the steel mines don't buy him the DVD of 'Remington Steel' unless you're POSITIVE he uses a Remington shaver, otherwise no one will get the joke and you've wasted your hard earned gift giving responsibilities
- Always joke around about what you got your friend as a gift by saying things like 'we got a hat from Rip Curl, a pack of condoms for people with tiny penises, and a Whitesnake t-shirt, ha ha ha ha, just kidding' when in fact you're not kidding, cause that way they get to go 'thank fuck you're joking, I'd hate all those girfts' before awkwardly opening them in front of everyone (this actually happened to me when I was younger)(please note except for the condoms I don't actually remember what the rest of the gifts were, too mortified to memory bank that one)(please note also that a Whitesnake t-shirt would suck, but tiny condoms, mmm mmm snug)
- If it's a birthday and they are older than they want to be always get them one of those cards which say 'happy birthday old man!!!' that way you won't be invited back next year, and you don't have to hear them whine about how old they now are (please note I whine about how old I am every year, at least come to my party you pricks)
- If you can't afford a present make a fake coupon book of annoying chores, then wrap it up and put her boyfriends name on the card, cause why would your friend make you buy his girlfriend a present, weirdo
Anyone got any weird/awful/awesome present stories?
So here are some things you may not know about presents
- If you're at a bridal shower dealy and you're on a TV show always buy a vibrator for a gift because that will shock the older ladies you didn't think were going to be there (older ladies on TV only use fingers when cleaning out their ears, cue-tips can cause ear infections, if you know what I mean).
- If the person whom your celebrating works in the steel mines don't buy him the DVD of 'Remington Steel' unless you're POSITIVE he uses a Remington shaver, otherwise no one will get the joke and you've wasted your hard earned gift giving responsibilities
- Always joke around about what you got your friend as a gift by saying things like 'we got a hat from Rip Curl, a pack of condoms for people with tiny penises, and a Whitesnake t-shirt, ha ha ha ha, just kidding' when in fact you're not kidding, cause that way they get to go 'thank fuck you're joking, I'd hate all those girfts' before awkwardly opening them in front of everyone (this actually happened to me when I was younger)(please note except for the condoms I don't actually remember what the rest of the gifts were, too mortified to memory bank that one)(please note also that a Whitesnake t-shirt would suck, but tiny condoms, mmm mmm snug)
- If it's a birthday and they are older than they want to be always get them one of those cards which say 'happy birthday old man!!!' that way you won't be invited back next year, and you don't have to hear them whine about how old they now are (please note I whine about how old I am every year, at least come to my party you pricks)
- If you can't afford a present make a fake coupon book of annoying chores, then wrap it up and put her boyfriends name on the card, cause why would your friend make you buy his girlfriend a present, weirdo
Anyone got any weird/awful/awesome present stories?
Monday, June 28, 2010
Oh damn, I forgot all about this!!!
Its the links to our show this week.
Ok, intriguing: Hell Yeah! - the sunburned edition :)
Faith is back, we have two special guests, and we explore wrong in all its forms as always, hope you enjoy.
Part one
http://www.ustream.tv/recorded/7897837
Part two
http://www.ustream.tv/recorded/7898763
Ok, intriguing: Hell Yeah! - the sunburned edition :)
Faith is back, we have two special guests, and we explore wrong in all its forms as always, hope you enjoy.
Part one
http://www.ustream.tv/recorded/7897837
Part two
http://www.ustream.tv/recorded/7898763
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
In this moment
I'm a gypsy
I'm a dreamer
I need to explore
I need to runaway
I need
I need
To be free
Why not just
I don't know
What to do
When I need to do it all
When other people's problems sum up my goal
When my mind stays confused
When I still can't sleep
Or move forward
Trapped in my body
Discover
Oh no
Is it happening again
Why aren't I there still
Doing what I don't want
But not knowing answers
Just look at me
In my embarrassment
Building from it
Not wanting to repeat it
What's next
Please what's next
May it be right
Finally
These perceptions blind
Finally
I'm a dreamer
I need to explore
I need to runaway
I need
I need
To be free
Why not just
I don't know
What to do
When I need to do it all
When other people's problems sum up my goal
When my mind stays confused
When I still can't sleep
Or move forward
Trapped in my body
Discover
Oh no
Is it happening again
Why aren't I there still
Doing what I don't want
But not knowing answers
Just look at me
In my embarrassment
Building from it
Not wanting to repeat it
What's next
Please what's next
May it be right
Finally
These perceptions blind
Finally
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
What’s the worst that could happen?
There is nothing worse than losing faith, and seeing as we had printer issues and didn’t end up doing the Magical Questionnaire on the show last week, here is a ‘what is the worst?’ that could happen review dealy of the responses. For these please meet my evil twin, Massively Immoral Dave MID (parents of twins where one is Massively Immoral are often also the unimaginative type’s, and in this scenario this is what I am suggesting, make believe is fun).
Fuck you’re a tool! Shut up Massively Immoral Dave, you haven’t been introduced yet. Hey Weird Except Basically Moral Yet Sort Of Crazy Dave, or HWEBMYSOCD which is a crap name so why don’t we actually make it Dave’s Actually Moral because that makes DAM which is a nickname you’ve sort of being working on for yourself after having it coined for you in Amsterdam, which is actually kind of nice of me, but that’s how someone Massively Immoral works, we’re sort of nice AND THEN we get you, ha ha, I don’t live by the rules. Rules are for cunt holes, like you, cunt hole Dam. Ok Mid, you don’t have to live by the rules, and you can now do this what’s the worst that could happen dealy. I will, plus I de-sharpened all your pencils, suck it bitch.
What's something you've had faith in at some point of your life and lost?
Some people in my life.
Oh yeah, I lost faith in some people in my life once. One was this guy Patrick, he was a god dam Homeopath. So like I meet him right, he goes I’m Patrick, I’m a Homeopath, and I am like hell yeah motherfucker, that’s fucking awesome we should hang out some time later. Yeah that’s right, I am massively immoral, so you better believe I have no problem fucking the shit out of someone in a homosexual way EVEN though I barely know them, and then getting into some hardcore sociopath type activities. I mean a homosexual sociopath and someone who is the massively immoral genetic equal of his actually moral brother, THAT is a combination ready to take over the fucking underworld. Which is even better than taking over the world because if you take over the world you have probably got to deal with like famine and shit, and an immoral motherfucker like me doesn’t deal with social causes so the underworld kicks ass, plus I was ready to do some over the top sociopath type shit, which is something really goddamed noticeable if you rule the whole fucking world which I think puts to rest the argument for taking over the underworld rather than the world world. Like for example I had plans to be a tyrant of some description, cause that sounds cool, and I was going to like put mothballs in some strangers car so it would smell all mothbally, and like go to a canteen and like fuck a teenager and when the teen’s parents called the cops I would be like its can-teen, as in Can fuck teens here bitch, that’s the kind of immoral literalist I like to be. So then Patrick shows up and it turns out he is NEITHER a homosexual OR a sociopath, in fact a homeopath is some sort of doctor or some shit, and apart from the fucking lying in name of his the profession he chooses to represent himself by, and of course lying is fucking awesome, but like helping people in a medial way is NOT how this immoral scumfucking cunt holes, no sir bob (which is a guy I fucked in a totally ethically corrupt way). So yeah I lost faith in Patrick (plus that’s a guy I knew who abused at cat, and even immoral as fuck me thinks that’s fucked). I lost faith in him big time and because of that I never did mothball some cunts car, and I will NEVER forgive Patrick for that. (I might mothball his car for revenge).
More to come.
Fuck you’re a tool! Shut up Massively Immoral Dave, you haven’t been introduced yet. Hey Weird Except Basically Moral Yet Sort Of Crazy Dave, or HWEBMYSOCD which is a crap name so why don’t we actually make it Dave’s Actually Moral because that makes DAM which is a nickname you’ve sort of being working on for yourself after having it coined for you in Amsterdam, which is actually kind of nice of me, but that’s how someone Massively Immoral works, we’re sort of nice AND THEN we get you, ha ha, I don’t live by the rules. Rules are for cunt holes, like you, cunt hole Dam. Ok Mid, you don’t have to live by the rules, and you can now do this what’s the worst that could happen dealy. I will, plus I de-sharpened all your pencils, suck it bitch.
What's something you've had faith in at some point of your life and lost?
Some people in my life.
Oh yeah, I lost faith in some people in my life once. One was this guy Patrick, he was a god dam Homeopath. So like I meet him right, he goes I’m Patrick, I’m a Homeopath, and I am like hell yeah motherfucker, that’s fucking awesome we should hang out some time later. Yeah that’s right, I am massively immoral, so you better believe I have no problem fucking the shit out of someone in a homosexual way EVEN though I barely know them, and then getting into some hardcore sociopath type activities. I mean a homosexual sociopath and someone who is the massively immoral genetic equal of his actually moral brother, THAT is a combination ready to take over the fucking underworld. Which is even better than taking over the world because if you take over the world you have probably got to deal with like famine and shit, and an immoral motherfucker like me doesn’t deal with social causes so the underworld kicks ass, plus I was ready to do some over the top sociopath type shit, which is something really goddamed noticeable if you rule the whole fucking world which I think puts to rest the argument for taking over the underworld rather than the world world. Like for example I had plans to be a tyrant of some description, cause that sounds cool, and I was going to like put mothballs in some strangers car so it would smell all mothbally, and like go to a canteen and like fuck a teenager and when the teen’s parents called the cops I would be like its can-teen, as in Can fuck teens here bitch, that’s the kind of immoral literalist I like to be. So then Patrick shows up and it turns out he is NEITHER a homosexual OR a sociopath, in fact a homeopath is some sort of doctor or some shit, and apart from the fucking lying in name of his the profession he chooses to represent himself by, and of course lying is fucking awesome, but like helping people in a medial way is NOT how this immoral scumfucking cunt holes, no sir bob (which is a guy I fucked in a totally ethically corrupt way). So yeah I lost faith in Patrick (plus that’s a guy I knew who abused at cat, and even immoral as fuck me thinks that’s fucked). I lost faith in him big time and because of that I never did mothball some cunts car, and I will NEVER forgive Patrick for that. (I might mothball his car for revenge).
More to come.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Careful crossing the street
When I was about ten years old everyday when I walked home from school there was a major highway I had to cross. At this time in the afternoon the traffic was heavy on the far side of the road and almost non-existent on the closer side, so I would every day cross halfway and stand on the medium strip waiting for the light to go green. One particular day for some unknown reason I decided not to walk half way today, it wasn't that I felt like being patient or lazy, it was an instinct that specifically told me not to. Moments later a car got clipped by another car going at high speeds and the car lost control and slammed hard into the pole where I would have been standing. It is not possible that I would have survived.
About six or seven years ago I was at the local mall having just been to a doctors appointment. This particular appointment was for me to receive results of a biopsy and after a horrible two weeks of waiting I just found out I didn't have cancer. I was heading into the mall for what I assume would have been a celebratory dessert of some description when I had a street to cross. It is a pretty quiet street despite being in a busy area and by the time the light turned green for me to cross the rest of the pedestrians had crossed against the red, something I rarely do, and especially here as there is a blind corner where you can only a see a car coming really late, I have seen people nearly hit there dozens of times. So I wait for the green and ready to cross. On this particular day however with my head in the clouds with joy of not having cancer and yet with the doctors still not sure what the hell was causing my never ending ear infection, just sure it was 'something' in their words, I waited for the green, but instead of walking as the little green man showed himself something told me to step back, so I did. In that moment a car coming around the blind corner realized he hadn't made the orange light but was in no position to stop for the red and to compensate for his error and try to get through the intersection as fast as humanly possible he instead sped up and took the corner as close as he possibly could meaning he clipped the gutter and missed me by less than an inch. Once again I would surely have been killed.
I don't know what this instinct was both these times that saved my life. I don't think I regularly have instincts which turn out to be nothing. I do have the kind of fucked up mind that I constantly can't see speeding cars without visualizing them crashing, I can't see pedestrians sprinting in front of speeding cars without seeing them hit in my mind. I visualize all the possibilities in most of the situations I am in. It is why I write and make art, my mind already sees it all so why not explore when I can.
So there is a corpse in the middle of the road in front of my building right now. A young girl tried to sprint across the road in front of a truck but wasn't fast enough. The entire block is marked out in police tape, there are cops everywhere, there is a truck driver sitting by his truck looking more distraught than any other human I have ever seen, and sitting alone in the middle is a girls body covered in a white sheet. Dead to save two minutes waiting for the lights.
I know a lot of people who take big risks driving and crossing the street to save a little time here and there. I can't do it, I see the possibilities with my mind, and once I have seen the potential to end up a corpse I can't take those risks.
I used to say that I had discovered patience, but I don't think that is what it is. It's purely a discovery of the death of my youthful stupidity.
I don't know what it is about cars which make people take such risks around them. Everyone thinks it wont happen to them. Yet people die in car accidents or being hit as pedestrians over and over and over and over again. And I hate it. It makes me mad and it makes me sad. I've learned to really dislike cars. My instincts tell me if I didn't it would kill me. I drive as little as possible, and hope to one day stop driving altogether. I dream of a carless society with amazing public transport which is safe and quick.
In the mean time we all have to live with cars. They dominate our lives. Still I cannot understand that while cars pollute our world, cause wars and environmental catastrophes, affect the economy sometimes with disastrous results, and kill thousands upon thousands of people consistantly why why why, at the very least, can't we take away the licenses of those people who clearly don't take the responsibility as seriously as it needs to be taken.
Drink drivers, massive speeders, and dangerous drivers of all sorts get fined, sometimes lose their license for short periods, but we keep giving them back.
If we take away the licenses of the the worst 25% of drivers (which I think should be the minimum) then suddenly we have a huge reduction in pollution, traffic gets way better, driving becomes massively safer, plus these people now in need of alternatives start using trains and buses which injects cash and forces governments to improve the facilities, which leads to other drivers more willing to use them, and we get a whole movement towards a better system. At least as far as I am concerned.
Anyway, its not going to happen. So instead I continue to be safe as best I can, I hope you do the same, especially my friends who I know do not, and I worry for them. Until you do I will continue to have to deal with my mind watching you die thousands of times a day, and I'll get back to twisting the crazy way my mind works into bat shit insane comedy :)
About six or seven years ago I was at the local mall having just been to a doctors appointment. This particular appointment was for me to receive results of a biopsy and after a horrible two weeks of waiting I just found out I didn't have cancer. I was heading into the mall for what I assume would have been a celebratory dessert of some description when I had a street to cross. It is a pretty quiet street despite being in a busy area and by the time the light turned green for me to cross the rest of the pedestrians had crossed against the red, something I rarely do, and especially here as there is a blind corner where you can only a see a car coming really late, I have seen people nearly hit there dozens of times. So I wait for the green and ready to cross. On this particular day however with my head in the clouds with joy of not having cancer and yet with the doctors still not sure what the hell was causing my never ending ear infection, just sure it was 'something' in their words, I waited for the green, but instead of walking as the little green man showed himself something told me to step back, so I did. In that moment a car coming around the blind corner realized he hadn't made the orange light but was in no position to stop for the red and to compensate for his error and try to get through the intersection as fast as humanly possible he instead sped up and took the corner as close as he possibly could meaning he clipped the gutter and missed me by less than an inch. Once again I would surely have been killed.
I don't know what this instinct was both these times that saved my life. I don't think I regularly have instincts which turn out to be nothing. I do have the kind of fucked up mind that I constantly can't see speeding cars without visualizing them crashing, I can't see pedestrians sprinting in front of speeding cars without seeing them hit in my mind. I visualize all the possibilities in most of the situations I am in. It is why I write and make art, my mind already sees it all so why not explore when I can.
So there is a corpse in the middle of the road in front of my building right now. A young girl tried to sprint across the road in front of a truck but wasn't fast enough. The entire block is marked out in police tape, there are cops everywhere, there is a truck driver sitting by his truck looking more distraught than any other human I have ever seen, and sitting alone in the middle is a girls body covered in a white sheet. Dead to save two minutes waiting for the lights.
I know a lot of people who take big risks driving and crossing the street to save a little time here and there. I can't do it, I see the possibilities with my mind, and once I have seen the potential to end up a corpse I can't take those risks.
I used to say that I had discovered patience, but I don't think that is what it is. It's purely a discovery of the death of my youthful stupidity.
I don't know what it is about cars which make people take such risks around them. Everyone thinks it wont happen to them. Yet people die in car accidents or being hit as pedestrians over and over and over and over again. And I hate it. It makes me mad and it makes me sad. I've learned to really dislike cars. My instincts tell me if I didn't it would kill me. I drive as little as possible, and hope to one day stop driving altogether. I dream of a carless society with amazing public transport which is safe and quick.
In the mean time we all have to live with cars. They dominate our lives. Still I cannot understand that while cars pollute our world, cause wars and environmental catastrophes, affect the economy sometimes with disastrous results, and kill thousands upon thousands of people consistantly why why why, at the very least, can't we take away the licenses of those people who clearly don't take the responsibility as seriously as it needs to be taken.
Drink drivers, massive speeders, and dangerous drivers of all sorts get fined, sometimes lose their license for short periods, but we keep giving them back.
If we take away the licenses of the the worst 25% of drivers (which I think should be the minimum) then suddenly we have a huge reduction in pollution, traffic gets way better, driving becomes massively safer, plus these people now in need of alternatives start using trains and buses which injects cash and forces governments to improve the facilities, which leads to other drivers more willing to use them, and we get a whole movement towards a better system. At least as far as I am concerned.
Anyway, its not going to happen. So instead I continue to be safe as best I can, I hope you do the same, especially my friends who I know do not, and I worry for them. Until you do I will continue to have to deal with my mind watching you die thousands of times a day, and I'll get back to twisting the crazy way my mind works into bat shit insane comedy :)
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