On a Serious Note

I have felt so lazy lately. I don’t feel like doing anything at all half the time. I’ve thought about why this may be so on many an occasion. I think maybe it’s time to say goodbye to something that I’ve kept very close to me these past few years. I thought it would open doors for me, this talisman of mine. I thought it would make me see things in a new light. I was sure that there was something about this sacrament that I could take and use to better myself, to even me out, to make life easier. I have been fooled. I am a victim of false advertising but there is no lawyer in the world I could go to that would fix this for me. I have to do it myself and the time is now.

I am addicted, and if I keep going down this route I’m going to end up a hollow shell. I would become just another mindless drone sitting on the couch watching Aqua Teen Hunger Force. Is that all I want my life to add up to: a bunch of foggy nights watching talking fast food? Do I really want my goals to consist of: wake up, smoke a bowl, eat a bowl of cereal and watch cartoons all day? Or do I want my life to MEAN SOMETHING?

I know I want my life to mean something, and I’ve found meaning to be in short supply anymore. I’ll wake up in the mornings and I’ll take a look at myself in the mirror and what I see there is disappointment. I am disappointed in myself, disgusted with the position that I’ve reduced myself to. This is NOT who I am. I am better than this. I am a creative force, yet I’ve been acting more like a derivative parlor act and it sickens me. Perhaps this time I’m upset enough to actually do something about it. Perhaps this time I’m not going to sit back and let this plant make my decisions for me.

I want to feel ALIVE again…

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Electric Funk Juice…DENIED.

One of these days I will have this thing properly set up and will post once daily. Until then I suppose I could continue talking to nothing about nothing for a little while.

I broke the E string on my electric guitar again. Since I don’t have any replacement at the moment I have had to make due with this mini-acoustic that I bought for my son. It’s a First Act that I got at Wal-Mart for him last Christmas. The boy is four years old, his mind is just waiting for new input, but for some reason he is resistant to learning anything new, so I have it. I must say I am pleasantly surprised at how well it plays. It stays in tune even! :D So while I may not have the power of ELECTRIC FUNK JUICE, I can still unleash my anger and sorrow to the lonely walls of my bedroom with this little piece of heaven.

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Reasons Why…

Sometimes I like to sit on my couch and imagine I’m riding a motorcycle. I wouldn’t be riding it anywhere in particular. I would just glide with the wind up and down dunes in a massive dessert. All alone. Just me and my thoughts, wherever they would go. They might go up to the Andes and muse on quantum physics. They may just go to the local tavern and get shitfaced, listen to Billy Joel records and get rejected by a 33 year old amputee war veteran.

For now, however, they are content with insisting that I get some food in my stomach. How distracting of them! How unwanted and annoying! Yet they scream for meat!

I subscribed to the “word of the day” on Dictionary.com. As you can clearly see, it’s working wonders for my vocabulary. Actually, that’s a lie, because I haven’t glanced at a word of the day in over three months, which means that my e-mail inbox in engorged with over 100 days worth of vernacular. It’s either out of some sense of arrogant self-assurance or an extreme case of laziness. In any case…I think that a trip to my mail box might be beneficial.

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Bananas and Paint

Updates soon. I promise.

Until then, remember when the walls are starting to look a little thin, just splash on a new coat.

Also: Bana Nah Nah Nah

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Portrait of Self

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Done by a friend of mine last night.
I think it accurately reflects my general distaste for facial hair.
It doesn’t?
Oh well.

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Flies in the Aftermath

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Lay you still tongueless one
Shaded from the morning sun
Underneath your burning skies
Hope lost, God…Why?

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Meet the Aggressor

Ladies and Gentlemen:

Pastor Terry Jones
Religion is a joke, and This is the punch line.

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Animatronic Cats with Drug Problems

Those of us, like myself, with a penchant for liking films of little to no taste at all surely remember this trashterpiece from Peter Jackson. The quintessential antithesis to the cordial and whimsical Muppets of Jim Henson’s loins, Meet The Feebles has become a staple of bad taste cinema. The first time I saw it I couldn’t believe my eyes. Let’s just say a greater part of my loss of innocence can be linked directly to my exposure to these bottom of the bottle epics and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. :) That and the fact that I was born with a severe addiction to watching people get hit in the balls with whiffle ball bats.

So imagine what a pleasant surprise it was to stumble upon this wonderful piece of news:
We R Animals
All the information that is for the knowing is right there in that article. It just has me foaming at all orifices in anticipation, and all we have are a couple of test shots and a brief synopsis. I am glad to see that bad taste still exists as high art outside of the Tromaverse, and it looks to me like Thobias Huffman (the films director) is going to be a name to look out for. I will post updates as they become available to me.

And Now For Something Completely Different

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