Vroom Vroom - or - How To Break Your Neck With A Smile

I'm going go-kart racing tonight. These are supposedly the fastest go-karts in the midwest. Hells yeah.


In other news, I have a new old computer. Expect to hear from me more often. Ta ta.

Welcome To The Fish Bowl, Boozehound - or - How Did I Get All This Crap In Here

I'm taking a break from cleaning and rearranging my apartment. I've got books on my bed, on my night stand, on my windowsill, on top of the fridge, and stacked up next to my bookcase, which is already full of books, records, and photos by unsung heroes. I've got bass amps on my coffee table, cooking knives on my electric piano, a mountain of clothes on my sofa, five different schedules on my desk, four months of receipts in no particular order everywhere I look, garbage on the floor, plants on every inch of floor that reminds unclaimed by my cramped furniture, drift wood in the sink, seven fish in a soup pot in my bathtub, blown light bulbs in two different lamps, piles of nickles and dimes on every surface, a stack of unpaid bills on my pillow, an empty fish tank on my stove, and Tom Waits' Orphans blaring on my stereo. I'm wearing ripped jeans, work boots, my batman belt, and no shirt. I got my haircut today. She cut it too short. I asked how much she would charge to dye it blue. $80. I think I'll get another tattoo first. I'm going to drill some holes in my bed after I get rid of this heart burn. I'm sweating from everywhere. I bought a new fish today. I named him Boozehound, after his father.

My Reaction To My Reactions To Life - or - Rope It In

This is my 201 entry. It happens to fall on 09/09/09. I've noticed something recently about this site. Things have gotten rather vulgar here. I’m gonna need to tone that down a bit.

Lupine Lets Loose The Hate [Edited]

LupineL00pine is crazy, but at least he's crazy on my side, I think. That the problem with trusting crazy people; they are crazy. Here is a list of my favorite Lupine comments directed at the seemingly infinite stream of small minded people that cross his path.

I'm not a congenital error magnet like you, you shit balled, brain dead dick tickler

I shall delight in obliterating you typo prone, poor witted, silt titted gnats.

You are your own best insult.

you illiterate cunt waffle.

[Your Dad] wakes up every morning when your Mom decides to peel his face from her tar pit of a vagina.

You insult a person and then apologize for bad grammar?

The 3 minutes spent watching this video pales in comparison to the 39 years [you’ve] spent in a mindless stupor.

The last few cells in your head are precious.

Q: What inspired you to write such a… unique response?
A: My love for hate.

Do You Know The Fortune Cookie Game? - or - Sugar Wafer Wishes

I had three fortune cookies today. The angry Thai woman I work with and I are trying to patch together a working relationship. I brought in a pineapple for her to cut to pieces and she gave me a chocolate fortune cookie. I later took two more after she had left. Each tiny piece of paper made me freeze for a minute, think for a second, and smile for the rest of the day.

"Use your talents. That's what they are intended for."

"You can work both alone or with others."

"You will soon receive an unusual gift."

I hope that you know the fortune cookie game. The one where you put the words "in bed" at the end of the fortune and make every fortune cookie that much better to eat. I knew the fortune cookie game. That's why I'm still smiling. Hurry up, dream lady. I am sick of working alone.

I Love... -or- Minimal Brain Activity Needed

I went running this morning. I run to the lake, then to the beach, then through Andersonville back to my house. I don't wear a shirt. A hairy man with a huge mustache who was also not wearing a shirt ran past me from the other direction this morning. He gave me a somber nod and a thumbs up. I thought it was hilarious.

I will start posting the 3rd Annual Sketchy Mustache entries soon. If you are on the fence about growing a mustache, this is your moment to shine. Shine like a sweaty hairy man with no shirt and a tendency for giving other sweaty shirtless men the thumbs up.

click the stache