What's the score?

Let's see--God hates Cap'n, murnkay is an asshole (the votes are in!), my kitty is losing her mind, and mad at me because I want to build old guitars into custom coolness, and damn the torpedoes! ahahahaha!

It also seems that my mind is coming unhooked from my hands, causing a great and grand groovy fuckall when I try to type. You don't really see much of it here, thanks to my ability to still see when I've fucked a word right out of it's proper form, but wee things are still getting through, little things that are not part of my normal typography.

We damn near stalked hedgegoth--the kitty were thinkin about goin to the zoo tomorrow, when I mentioned in jest that we go to stalk hedgegoth.

(there he is! there he is! oo!)
(shh! I think he hears us!)

Although, for technical reasons, I will now state that I haven't stalked anyone. I was more of a passive type than that, just tending to go to places that my prey frequented, sit around, and think about them.

Shri's roof leaks--just in case you missed it. Found her on AIM, and we had us a good ol'fashioned blast. I offered to kneecap him, if through some fluke I step through a wormhole on my way to the pisser and wind up in Kansas. Now, granted: some people like to use the line, I think we aren't in Kansas anymore, to signify a departure from their home, their norms, but what if, all of a sudden, you found yourself, a denizen of other places, whisked involuntarily into Kansas?

Exactly what do you say then?

Someone should write a book for scenarios like that, where you can't find the right thing to say. Or maybe we should all, as a group, decide on a single word that would be used to express all unprepared situations. Akin to Mary Poppins and her Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, save that my vote would immediately go for the word Gibbledyfuck.

You have to pick a word with one of those consonants that no one can make their damn minds up about, so that the word itself can be expanded to encompass more situations, for example, to use my word:

pronounced JIB ledeefuck, it would be the perfect thing to shout as you evacuate your bowels in the presence of a rogue prop from Stan Winston's studios, possessed by the unquiet spirits of unrequited Furries.

Pronounced Gibb-eldeefuck, it could more easily fall into a more disco-based post-apocalyptic scenario, as in the time where John Travolta ground L. Ron Hubbard's femur up into a hallucinogenic paste and served it in the deli trays where they film Soul Train.

The fact that everyone seems to be having some sort of crisis has made me suddenly very nervous about my upcoming physical--be it something in the air, that makes it so square when we get together? Have the planets aligned unconfortably in the dark confines of Uranus to destroy us all? Are the Fat Boys planning a reunion tour?

(elapsed time 13:47:83)

Sorry! Spaced out there for a bit.

I'd probably go into some sort of insensitive rant, right about now, but I don't want to sound like an ass. Being one is still okay on my list, I guess, but sounding like one has suddenly fallen off of the holy eateries list, well outside of kosher.

(no subject)

I figure I'll just put another post in, since I seem to be just kind of burbling along, a babbling brook of cluttered brain-cess dribbling out of the choked sluiceways that I wear at the ends of my hands.

I got to thinking a minute ago, when I typed an accented word, about the existence of things that don't exist.

Zen is bullshit. It is Zen, isn't it? The one where like things stop being real until you experience them or something? Well. If you guys stop existing every time I go out of sensory bounds, then how is it I can come back to the bathroom and still smell the lingering love of my family's air biscuits?

I know I'm a crazy little bitch, but Why In The Fuck would I use my universal power thingymabobs to create the stink of a fart? Some sort of kharmic debt to some long-departed E. coli that I mistreated in a past life?

And what about when I type an italics code, but leave a blank spot at the end. Why is it no one yells at me for my poor typing skills, italicizing something you can't even see , no matter how badly it needs it?

Now, I can tell you are all thinking that the space I left up there in that last sentence was italicized--

WRONG. That little bitch was bolded. And the two spaces between this sentence and the last aren't even really spaces--they're God's navel lint.

Uph! I've gone and done it now, brought God into it.

I know some of you are a little offended by the thought that a God would even exist, let alone go around getting mentioned, but the plain fact of the matter is that Zen is bullshit, cuz otherwise why would you make up some idiot in another part of the world saying the word God jsut to upset you, just so you can fart and I'd not even be there to smell it?

What is it? Solipsism? That thing we're talking about?

You know, even if you did make me up, for some stupid reason, I wouldn't play along--I'm a dick like that.

Those philosophical chestnuts always got on my fucking nerves, you know that?

If a tree falls in the forest and no one is a round, does it make a sound?

You're goddamned tooting. That tree gets up and says, "Goddammit, who put that there? I swear to God, nobody fuckig picks--

You get the drift right?

S'pose you fucking think yer smart now, eh?

Well then; did you catch those two italicized spaces I put around the word "that"?

Don't fucking lie--I didn't even put any spaces around that fucking "that". Oh? You can see them, huh? You just Think you see them. It's that thing where you expect something to be there, and then it isn't but you see it there anyway, because you're expecting it so hard.

I told you I wouldn't follow the script, but NOOOoooooo, you had to go and make me up anyway, dintcha, ya silly fuck?

All right: If you had to be crazy to make up the universe you experience, and some of the shit in it, like people who give head with their retainers still in, then how the fuck do crazy people come about? Is that how some of us actually make it to "normal"? We got made up by the tired backbrain of some crazy motherfucker wearing a white canvas hug?

And how in the hell would a crazy guy who can't even cross the room on the dark parts of the tiles make up a guy with erectile dysfuction who thinks he's a gay chinchilla? It's all shit, I tell ya, although of course shit is the defining defeating stroke to that argument.

You know, those smart-ass professors that tell you if you put a cat in a box it stops existing. Well if there ain't some litter in that damn box not existing right alongside that cat, you gonna find out real fucking quick what ain't existing--wake up and smell that stinky pussy.

(sorry--just couldn't resist)

For those of you who are Creationists, you know, "God spoke and BANG it happened".. who the fuck was He talking to?

And for all of you out there who think there ain't a God: I suppose you honestly believe that somewhere in the back of your mind you made up Quantum physics and mechaincs, and then all of a sudden you didn't know what the fuck it was or how it worked.

Although that does proivide a certain kind of logic, if you think about it while out for a drive in the big city.

(no subject)

Oh yeah.

I like this site. there are many funny pics n stuff--but might not be work safe.

(no subject)

snore snore buzzsaw kchangk kchangk

Vanilla Pepsi sucks my balls through a straw with a dirty weedeater.

I haven't really even finished waking up yet, but, here I am, and all without much of a sense of worth. Dreaming of guitars and parts n shit--anybody wanna fund my luthierly aspirations? All I really want is an Ibanez body off Ebay, maybe a Kramer or Jackson neck, and a Floyd Rose locking trem system.

Lol
Coupla pickups wouldn't hurt much either.

"No, you're not thinking, you're on drugs! Normal people don't act that way!"

Fuck you, mom.

cute.

On my crapsite's guest book, the embedded ads are all about subliminl therapy, and ways to hypnotize yourself into being a more successful straight.

I think today someone is going to have to be sacrificed to a potato, for my needs.