Recently, it's been discovered that when all those folks got together to write The Bible they had gotten blasted on Miller High Life and Jonah may have brought a fair amount of ecstasy and possibly some mescaline. So, in an attempt to enlighten people with the truth, I will be rewriting the stories as they happened, before those party animals had their say. Some stories weren't actual events at all but metaphors for inside jokes or gossip they had heard. For instance, Moses "talking to a burning bush" meant that he got syphilis, from a cheap hooker. In a state of delirium, he thought he was talking to God. But the first thing I am going to tackle is the story of Noah and the flood.
First of all, Noah himself told this story and he was a known exaggerator. He was also a sailing enthusiast and a narcissist and wanted everyone to know he made the best boats, which was a lie....he really wasn't that good. What it was, actually...there was this girl...her name was Candy and Noah was trying to show off, he wanted to impress her. He had gotten tired of his wife and Candy caught his eye. She was the daughter of a herdsman, with a wild streak. One summer break, she went to Cancun and got a dragon tattoo on the side of her ribcage.
Anyway, what really happened was it only rained for like 4 days. There was a flood but hardly anyone died. Maybe like 3 people. The only confirmed death was a guy named Vladimir Jackson. (Consequently, the town created the drink The Black Russian, in his honor.) But Noah built a pontoon boat and got his family on it. While they were getting ready two dogs jumped on board. That's where the animal thing, came into play. They were big ass dogs but I don't know how anyone could've believed there were any buffalo on there. That was all a bunch of bullshit. Do you know how many kinds of animals there are? And, where was he gonna get an alligator, in the middle east, let alone two? And, why would an alligator even need to get on a boat? And, there was no rainbow over a mountain or anything either. The writers added that later to go with the whole God theme of the book. So, anyway, Noah, his family, and two stray dogs sailed around for a few days, grilling burgers and drinking and he made up some other stuff to try and cheat on his wife. He was unsuccessful(Candy had jungle fever) but people seemed to like the story.
Oh, and another thing, they said Noah was like 600 years old. I don't know what they were on then. That's just ridiculous, right? He was 52.
Thanks for reading. Join me next time, when I: Debunk the story of Adam and Eve, explain just how hot Mary Magdalene was, and anger christians to a point where they might spontaneously combust.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Metaphor In Progress
Masturbation is really sad and depressing. It's kind of like if you were wandering through the desert, dying, and you suddenly see a giant, beautiful hotel and you start running towards it. Then, you're in front of it and you can't even contain yourself, you're so happy. But, when you walk through the door, you realize it's a sticky, hooker motel, the air conditioning is broken, and all the employees and the phone are dead. Then, you're like "What was I thinking coming to the desert, in the first place? It was a terrible idea.". It's kind of like that. Maybe.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Always The Rains Subside/A Brighter Day Is Near
It was inevitable. As much as I thought positively and said I wouldn't have to go to jury duty, I was always gonna end up there; I was always gonna end up sitting in a room, clawing my face off, in boredom. Luckily, my face is still attached....and here is the story of how:
I woke up at 5:30, in the morning. This, mind you, is the time I usually go to sleep. So, me and justice were already starting off on the wrong foot. I prepared myself for the day the right way: I ate frosted flakes and a slice of pizza. It was explained to me that there would probably be traffic and I'd have to get through security, so I left real early. Let me say, that 3 minutes or so of traffic really killed me. I end up at this god forsaken courthouse an hour early. There wasn't a single soul at the entrance. Thus, security consisted of me walking right through a metal detector. I thought "Wow, this is really going super great. I'm so early for this thing I hate. All the others are probably so jealous, in this fictional depiction of them and how they feel I'm creating." I just found a chair, in the lobby, and chilled for half an hour.
After I was done texting half the people I know, about my misery, I headed upstairs to room 318. Room 318 is pretty ominous. It almost sounds like a bad horror movie. And, when you're walking to it, it's quite distinctive...in that all the other doors look nice and room 318's door looks like it's where you would enter to check the pipes. The first area inside I believe would've been described as a sardine can. I found some of my fellow, salty, fishy, potential juror friends there. There was a leather couch...but no one was sitting on it. I found that peculiar. I guess those are the kind of people that get picked for a jury; people who would sit on a plastic chair, instead of a leather couch. Also, people who bring things to read read the worst stuff. I forgot to bring a book, so I was just sitting there and would continue to for longer than I'd like to talk about. However, I was entertained by looking at the hottest girl in the history of jury duty. Things were looking up, when I saw her. Well, not my eyes really...but other things. I enjoyed watching this slacker try to chat her up and it going nowhere. Poor Kara Something Or Other. As I'm writing this, she's probably still at jury duty.
Anyway, we all got moved into the actual jury room. It was kind of big and filled with light but it still somehow had a claustrophobic feel about it. I sat behind said slacker and Kara. By the way, she smelled just incredible. I don't mean to harp on the hot girl but it really stuck out to me how amazing she smelled. She was like a field of fruit trees and wildflowers. There really was an interesting cross section of people there, at any rate. One kid wore shorts, despite the repeated reminders through every step of the process that you couldn't wear shorts. So, the idiot population was well represented. If you wear shorts and a backpack to court, you should really just go to jail, no matter the situation. After a while, there was a murderer there too. Oops, I mean...a guy that's innocent until proven guilty, looked perfectly nice, and didn't shoot anyone, to the best of my knowledge.
A woman came in the room, after a brief period. Then, a judge, who basically reiterated the same stuff the woman said. Then, we got to fill out a questionnaire about our experiences and feelings on certain things. It combined all the tediousness of paperwork with all the excitement of talking to a pencil sharpener. At the bottom, you had to give your signature and swear it was all true and it said they could prosecute you for false answers. I thought that was strange since most of the questions were about my thoughts. Apparently, Minority Report is coming true. I hope I can get one of those cool, bald girls that see the future.
The lawyers for that first homocide trial came up and they were selecting 35 names, at random, to pick the jury from. There was a close call cause another guy named Anthony was there and I had a slight heart attack when they said his name. But I made it through. All of us unwanted folks, went over to the lounge. I sat there for an hour and a half; I ate a snickers bar cause I thought I would be there a while and that's what I heard snickers are for(verdict: I'm not sure snickers are actually for anything); I read an article about Sarah Palin and thought about how dumb her kids' names are; I listened to an old woman talking to another old woman about being on a boat and how her daughter performs dances with a poodle. I really really wish I could remember the website she said that had videos of that. Like I really really wish. Real hard. And I wish that that took place on a boat.
After that hour and a half, it seemed like time for lunch. The lady in charge said all the people who's names were called could go to lunch and everyone else needed to stay. We were hungry and upset. But when we sat down, she told us that the rest of the cases were cancelled and we could go home. A couple of people literally yelled out in excitement. I couldn't believe it. I was spared. I donated my 9 dollar salary to some sick kids or poor kids or something and was on my way, the undisputed champion of court.
In the morning, when I was walking into the courthouse, it was gloomy and storming and when I left, the sun was shining and a comfortable breeze was flowing through the city. Forget all the other junk I just wrote. I think THAT pretty much sums up my day.
I woke up at 5:30, in the morning. This, mind you, is the time I usually go to sleep. So, me and justice were already starting off on the wrong foot. I prepared myself for the day the right way: I ate frosted flakes and a slice of pizza. It was explained to me that there would probably be traffic and I'd have to get through security, so I left real early. Let me say, that 3 minutes or so of traffic really killed me. I end up at this god forsaken courthouse an hour early. There wasn't a single soul at the entrance. Thus, security consisted of me walking right through a metal detector. I thought "Wow, this is really going super great. I'm so early for this thing I hate. All the others are probably so jealous, in this fictional depiction of them and how they feel I'm creating." I just found a chair, in the lobby, and chilled for half an hour.
After I was done texting half the people I know, about my misery, I headed upstairs to room 318. Room 318 is pretty ominous. It almost sounds like a bad horror movie. And, when you're walking to it, it's quite distinctive...in that all the other doors look nice and room 318's door looks like it's where you would enter to check the pipes. The first area inside I believe would've been described as a sardine can. I found some of my fellow, salty, fishy, potential juror friends there. There was a leather couch...but no one was sitting on it. I found that peculiar. I guess those are the kind of people that get picked for a jury; people who would sit on a plastic chair, instead of a leather couch. Also, people who bring things to read read the worst stuff. I forgot to bring a book, so I was just sitting there and would continue to for longer than I'd like to talk about. However, I was entertained by looking at the hottest girl in the history of jury duty. Things were looking up, when I saw her. Well, not my eyes really...but other things. I enjoyed watching this slacker try to chat her up and it going nowhere. Poor Kara Something Or Other. As I'm writing this, she's probably still at jury duty.
Anyway, we all got moved into the actual jury room. It was kind of big and filled with light but it still somehow had a claustrophobic feel about it. I sat behind said slacker and Kara. By the way, she smelled just incredible. I don't mean to harp on the hot girl but it really stuck out to me how amazing she smelled. She was like a field of fruit trees and wildflowers. There really was an interesting cross section of people there, at any rate. One kid wore shorts, despite the repeated reminders through every step of the process that you couldn't wear shorts. So, the idiot population was well represented. If you wear shorts and a backpack to court, you should really just go to jail, no matter the situation. After a while, there was a murderer there too. Oops, I mean...a guy that's innocent until proven guilty, looked perfectly nice, and didn't shoot anyone, to the best of my knowledge.
A woman came in the room, after a brief period. Then, a judge, who basically reiterated the same stuff the woman said. Then, we got to fill out a questionnaire about our experiences and feelings on certain things. It combined all the tediousness of paperwork with all the excitement of talking to a pencil sharpener. At the bottom, you had to give your signature and swear it was all true and it said they could prosecute you for false answers. I thought that was strange since most of the questions were about my thoughts. Apparently, Minority Report is coming true. I hope I can get one of those cool, bald girls that see the future.
The lawyers for that first homocide trial came up and they were selecting 35 names, at random, to pick the jury from. There was a close call cause another guy named Anthony was there and I had a slight heart attack when they said his name. But I made it through. All of us unwanted folks, went over to the lounge. I sat there for an hour and a half; I ate a snickers bar cause I thought I would be there a while and that's what I heard snickers are for(verdict: I'm not sure snickers are actually for anything); I read an article about Sarah Palin and thought about how dumb her kids' names are; I listened to an old woman talking to another old woman about being on a boat and how her daughter performs dances with a poodle. I really really wish I could remember the website she said that had videos of that. Like I really really wish. Real hard. And I wish that that took place on a boat.
After that hour and a half, it seemed like time for lunch. The lady in charge said all the people who's names were called could go to lunch and everyone else needed to stay. We were hungry and upset. But when we sat down, she told us that the rest of the cases were cancelled and we could go home. A couple of people literally yelled out in excitement. I couldn't believe it. I was spared. I donated my 9 dollar salary to some sick kids or poor kids or something and was on my way, the undisputed champion of court.
In the morning, when I was walking into the courthouse, it was gloomy and storming and when I left, the sun was shining and a comfortable breeze was flowing through the city. Forget all the other junk I just wrote. I think THAT pretty much sums up my day.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Life Goes On....Sometimes
I don't do drugs. However, I've known and hung out with a lot of people who have and do. Sometimes, I talk about this, to other people. It's like some kind of new new journalism, where the characters and situations aren't interesting and no one learns anything about themselves or anything else. My life is basically like taking notes on The Real World Cancun. Side Story: The other night, I turned on the tv and a guy on Real World Cancun was giving a girl advice about what kind of guy to date. He went on to say that him and his friend basically go out to clubs with their dicks out and they have to beat off the women. The truth probably is they have to beat off each other and if you are ever in a position where such a person is giving you advice, my advice is that you jump off an overpass. Anyhoo, I was thinking my life is pretty boring and I was thinking about how Billy Mays did cocaine. Can you imagine being at a party and Billy Mays shows up with an 8-ball? Next day, you get to call everyone you know and say "Guess what happened last night?" and then, they guess....but, you know what? They're wrong. Cause you did coke with Billy Fucking Mays. Best story ever. So, you know, if Billy Mays can snort drugs and be the most successful pitchman in history....why not me? Why does my life need to suck? Maybe I'll start small...have a wine cooler....find an old case of Zima. Then, I'll get trashed on rum and girls who feel bad about themselves will sleep with me, in their cars, cause I fronted them some weed. It all works in phases and stages. And, it all ends with me being on tv. I could be a pitchman but I'd rather not. I'd like to be on something like Gossip Girl. I wouldn't have to be any good, people would know who I am, and I could be that Billy Mays story for some teenage extras. The awesome circle of life continues. I finally realized what Elton John was singing about, in that lion movie. He was a huge cokehead. It's all so obvious now. So, tomorrow, I'm looking for an apartment with a "drug den" feel and nice wooden floors and someone with a cat tranquilizer connection. After that, you write the book. It's gonna be a good one.
Honestly, none of that is gonna happen...except maybe the Gossip Girl part. I'm just looking for answers and typing out loud. You only get so much time. Maybe I should think of more things the way I think about doing coke with Billy Mays and existence would be more enjoyable...or not. But if I keep waking up, I need to fill all this time with something and it damn sure shouldn't be thinking of witty things to say on Twitter. It could have to do with playing Scrabble on Facebook but it's definitely not Twitter. So, I raise my glass of milk and say "Here's to waking up. It's the best thing a guy can ever do.".
Honestly, none of that is gonna happen...except maybe the Gossip Girl part. I'm just looking for answers and typing out loud. You only get so much time. Maybe I should think of more things the way I think about doing coke with Billy Mays and existence would be more enjoyable...or not. But if I keep waking up, I need to fill all this time with something and it damn sure shouldn't be thinking of witty things to say on Twitter. It could have to do with playing Scrabble on Facebook but it's definitely not Twitter. So, I raise my glass of milk and say "Here's to waking up. It's the best thing a guy can ever do.".
Monday, July 13, 2009
My Strawberry Lemonade Girl
Today, I had a waitress that said one of the strangest things a waitress has ever said to me. When we were done, she said "Come back and visit.". Who says that? That's like something your distant relative says after you meet them for the first time. I don't think me and Christy were related due to such factors as I liked her and she wasn't a jagoff. Like...did she mean that though? Does she actually want us to come back and visit? Cause she was super cute and I'm up for it. I'd visit her all day. But when she said that, I just started laughing....cause I thought "What if I did? What if I just came back to "visit"?". You know, "Hey, is Christy here. I was in the neighborhood and just thought I'd come by to visit, maybe talk about the baseball game. I brought some fruit salad, if you guys want any fruit salad." What a weird situation. Maybe my mind takes things in ways they weren't intended but it was just strange and then Pete gave her a 20 dollar tip. So, I guess the moral of the story is maybe you should be a little more cute and strange. It might get easier to pay those bills.
I could go on to tell you about our trip to Wal-Mart but I don't have the time to describe all the grotesque, half-human/half-rodent people I viewed there. That place is the home of God's spare parts. I didn't even want to keep my eyes open. I got by on daydreams of all my future visits to Christy and the life we will have together, the two of us and our scottish terrier, Johnny Cash. We sure did love our future little man in black.
I could go on to tell you about our trip to Wal-Mart but I don't have the time to describe all the grotesque, half-human/half-rodent people I viewed there. That place is the home of God's spare parts. I didn't even want to keep my eyes open. I got by on daydreams of all my future visits to Christy and the life we will have together, the two of us and our scottish terrier, Johnny Cash. We sure did love our future little man in black.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
A Sloppy Mess
I've been wanting to write something but I haven't been able to pin down a good subject. There have been all these celebrity deaths recently. I loved Michael Jackson and I could probably write a super long essay about my feelings on him....but would anyone really care? Karl Malden died too. He was 97. I wasn't completely taken aback, by that one. That got me thinking though that there was a time where you could be an ordinary looking dude, in fact, perhaps even kind of fucked up looking and you could still be a movie star. Those kind of guys always had a brilliant thing about them too. This new crop of young, pretty boy actors is a joke. Zac Efron, Robert Pattinson, these guys can barely act like they're breathing and that probably even takes really good direction. Chace Crawford? That sounds like a gay law firm. He's apparently gonna be the star of the new Footloose. Kevin Bacon looks like a rodent. You can't replace him like that. Shia Labeouf almost has that rodent everyman quality, except for the fact that he seems like an asshole and he isn't any good.
I, at one point, was watching Princess Protection Program, on the Disney Channel. That was exciting. It was just the kind of mindless entertainment that kids need to be raised on, starring some nice hispanic girls. I like your ethnic diversity, disney channel. You cover everything from white, to slightly asian, to "can pass for white". Speaking of which, on Twitter, Miley Cyrus was complaining about continuity errors in Cape Fear. First off, where does she get the balls? Second, if Miley Cyrus is all about pointing out continuity errors, how is she a christian?
Sarah Palin is stepping down as governor of Alaska. I guess she needs a bunch of time off after the grueling process of not doing or knowing anything. In related news, Alaskan wildlife will be extinct in two weeks and Sarah Palin is pregnant again. Her new daughter will be named Dirt and should be pregnant by next fall.
In sports, the USA tried to pretend it was good at soccer and I still love Serena Williams.
It's the 4th of July. Everyone better blow some shit up and put copious amounts of hotdogs in themselves. It's why America exists. Don't sass America. Not on it's special day. But seriously, have a great America Day. It's really nice of China to keep sponsoring this event each year.
I, at one point, was watching Princess Protection Program, on the Disney Channel. That was exciting. It was just the kind of mindless entertainment that kids need to be raised on, starring some nice hispanic girls. I like your ethnic diversity, disney channel. You cover everything from white, to slightly asian, to "can pass for white". Speaking of which, on Twitter, Miley Cyrus was complaining about continuity errors in Cape Fear. First off, where does she get the balls? Second, if Miley Cyrus is all about pointing out continuity errors, how is she a christian?
Sarah Palin is stepping down as governor of Alaska. I guess she needs a bunch of time off after the grueling process of not doing or knowing anything. In related news, Alaskan wildlife will be extinct in two weeks and Sarah Palin is pregnant again. Her new daughter will be named Dirt and should be pregnant by next fall.
In sports, the USA tried to pretend it was good at soccer and I still love Serena Williams.
It's the 4th of July. Everyone better blow some shit up and put copious amounts of hotdogs in themselves. It's why America exists. Don't sass America. Not on it's special day. But seriously, have a great America Day. It's really nice of China to keep sponsoring this event each year.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
How's Your Life Going? You Know....Orgy-Wise?
I was thinking about orgies. Without any prior orgy experience, I think it would be incredibly difficult to organize a successful group sex endeavor. This is the genius of the ancient romans; their orgy engineering skills. My guess is sometimes they probably cheated and used children or their relatives cause they were insane people but nonetheless, mad props to ancient rome.
I mean, if you go around asking people you know if they want to take part in an orgy they would think you are completely ridiculous. Either that, or there'll be all kinds of conditions and rules. I don't know why all the people you know are such sticks in the mud, but that's how it goes. I could probably get a couple creeps I know involved, and maybe convince one more, and I could always give Lady Gaga a call and she'd be down, but that's such a ramshackle structure, for an orgy. You would almost need to go and seek out orgy veterans, who know all the "ins and outs" of it. Cause if you set aside the idea of your friends and acquaintances and just say.....post an ad in the city paper, I feel like you would get a room full of dudes holding their dicks, waiting for the playboy bunnies to show up. It takes a lot of mental gymnastics to set this shit up, before the physical gymnastics get going, in the slightest.
Let's say you even convince some friends, people on the street, some girl you met at a bookstore that's clearly on ecstasy, that doesn't even mean it's going down. An orgy is something that sounds good on paper, like "Oh, Anthony, what a fresh, exciting idea. You're really spicing up my life right now."but then, get a bunch of strangers or acquaintances together in a room and ask them to start having sex and watch the awkwardness commence. These people might hate each other, not be attracted to anyone there, not have done their homework you clearly assigned(your friend Ron thinks Daisy Chain is just an indie rock band, from Detroit). These are serious concerns. Well, they are hilarious to me but serious, if you are very solemn in your questing for triple penetration, which I'm sure most of you are.
My way of thinking is that an orgy is something you should just leave as fantasy. If you make it happen, you can have that pride of accomplishment, but then what? What's next, in your life? What's harder than being a regular, everyday person putting together an orgy that leaves everyone saying "I'm pleased as punch."? Are you gonna bring peace to the middle east? Breed pandas for a living? Successfully recreate the bank heist from Die Hard With A Vengeance? Are you gonna take over for Willy Wonka, as head of the chocolate factory? Learn all the dialects of the Chinese language? Those are your choices. It's your choice to make. But honestly, I don't even know why you brought up orgies, in the first place. Did you want to get it on with me? Till the break of dawn with me? Till the early morn', turn your life into a porn? I can draw up a blueprint for a two-way, by next week....let's make it 7-10 business days. Maybe I'll talk to you first. Maybe. You know, I don't want to make it seem like this blog was all about sex.
Hahaha, this blog is ridiculous. I just read it back to myself and noticed that. But feel free to give me your opinions. Maybe you're like "Hey, man, it's not that hard.". And, I'll write you back and say "I bet that's what they said.".
I mean, if you go around asking people you know if they want to take part in an orgy they would think you are completely ridiculous. Either that, or there'll be all kinds of conditions and rules. I don't know why all the people you know are such sticks in the mud, but that's how it goes. I could probably get a couple creeps I know involved, and maybe convince one more, and I could always give Lady Gaga a call and she'd be down, but that's such a ramshackle structure, for an orgy. You would almost need to go and seek out orgy veterans, who know all the "ins and outs" of it. Cause if you set aside the idea of your friends and acquaintances and just say.....post an ad in the city paper, I feel like you would get a room full of dudes holding their dicks, waiting for the playboy bunnies to show up. It takes a lot of mental gymnastics to set this shit up, before the physical gymnastics get going, in the slightest.
Let's say you even convince some friends, people on the street, some girl you met at a bookstore that's clearly on ecstasy, that doesn't even mean it's going down. An orgy is something that sounds good on paper, like "Oh, Anthony, what a fresh, exciting idea. You're really spicing up my life right now."but then, get a bunch of strangers or acquaintances together in a room and ask them to start having sex and watch the awkwardness commence. These people might hate each other, not be attracted to anyone there, not have done their homework you clearly assigned(your friend Ron thinks Daisy Chain is just an indie rock band, from Detroit). These are serious concerns. Well, they are hilarious to me but serious, if you are very solemn in your questing for triple penetration, which I'm sure most of you are.
My way of thinking is that an orgy is something you should just leave as fantasy. If you make it happen, you can have that pride of accomplishment, but then what? What's next, in your life? What's harder than being a regular, everyday person putting together an orgy that leaves everyone saying "I'm pleased as punch."? Are you gonna bring peace to the middle east? Breed pandas for a living? Successfully recreate the bank heist from Die Hard With A Vengeance? Are you gonna take over for Willy Wonka, as head of the chocolate factory? Learn all the dialects of the Chinese language? Those are your choices. It's your choice to make. But honestly, I don't even know why you brought up orgies, in the first place. Did you want to get it on with me? Till the break of dawn with me? Till the early morn', turn your life into a porn? I can draw up a blueprint for a two-way, by next week....let's make it 7-10 business days. Maybe I'll talk to you first. Maybe. You know, I don't want to make it seem like this blog was all about sex.
Hahaha, this blog is ridiculous. I just read it back to myself and noticed that. But feel free to give me your opinions. Maybe you're like "Hey, man, it's not that hard.". And, I'll write you back and say "I bet that's what they said.".
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