Diet for infected root canal:

Vicadin, Orajel, scotch, and cocaine.

Hello there, nobody!

Well, it's been a while. But I've been hustling as usual at work getting a whopping 25 hours of work in, and trying to get some extra cash. Problem #1: Getting extra cash.

Besides what I've been up to, I have some information on what the government has been doing in urban ghettos. Promising young black NBA allstars are being stripped of their right to play hoop in the barrio. Take note of the picture I have included, and observe all aspects and details of it. From the father in the suit, to the child's facial expression, to the fucking Club on the fucking hoop.

It's been a long week, and there's been a lot of Olde English going around.

More details soon.

FREE TIBET... sort of!

Had to get that off my chest.

Birthday BASH!

Well in about 5 minutes I'll be twenty-two years old. In honor of myself making it through another year of life with only a swollen prostate, no known STI's, I've scrounged up a couple images from my private archive of excellence to keep your eyes drawn toward this post.

Getting older [not old, just older] isn't the hard part. Gaining years is like gaining weight for me. The days kind of zip past me so quick that I rarely know what the date is, let alone what the day of the week is. Time just sort of drifts by uncaringly. Nah, getting older is easy. Getting up in at 4:00AM, putting on your Target vest and name tag, wriggling into your stiff, cold khaki pants, looking in the mirror at your unshaven face, checking your voicemails from your friends who are having college grad parties, and getting in your car realizing that the jump from 18 to 22 only took four short years and you're no better off now than you were then as you zip up your discount store jacket -- that's the hard part.

The good part? As you jab away at plastic knobs on a desk to put words in your benign blog that no one reads, you get a midnight call from a pal who decides to rap "happy birthday" freestyle to you just as you think the walls of time are closing in.

Thanks Sven.

Recipe for disaster

The consumption of alcohol I dosed myself with yesterday morning/afternoon/night was one of astronomical proportions. The stars aligned, a virgin was sacrificed, and a complete & total solar eclipse of my brain occurred. The aftermath is sore muscles, achy joints, and a collective of blurry memories being at The Sundown and hearing the "Last call!" Makes me kind of proud to know I made it.

Now I'll just leave you with a picture I found on Google image search of my future wife... as soon as I can track her down, throw her over my shoulder, and make her mine forever.

Oh yeah, it's St. Patrick's Day. God bless the English.

IMPORTANT MESSAGE FROM ARTHUR!

Pretty much everywhere... it's gonna be hot.

Ring the Alarm

Man, can't ever get enough of old Tenor Saw:

Silly Robin

Israeli minister drops the H-bomb

Ouch!

"ISRAEL'S Deputy Defence Minister, Matan Vilnai, said yesterday Palestinians were bringing a "holocaust" upon themselves by stepping up cross-border rocket fire from the Gaza Strip.

"The more Qassam fire intensifies, and the rockets reach a longer range, they will bring upon themselves a bigger holocaust because we will use all our might to defend ourselves," Mr Vilnai told Army Radio."

Full story here.

"Y'all are just stupid kids."

I got a kick out of this story [video] about a teacher talking to her 4-5 year old students in an abrasive manner.

I don't see what the big fuss is. My third grade teacher Mrs. Wandell told me and a few of my friends that we were unwanted, useless, stupid, we were going to hell, and that Jesus doesn't love us, and never could love any children who were as bad as us.

I wonder what that crazy bat is up to -- oh wait, she's teaching at this school now. I found you, evil cunt!

"Like moths to a flame, they just keep coming."

One of my favorites, it's the BOOT FETISH! Enjoy.

Fishin' with Boris

Thanks, Papa Sancho.

Vantage Point

So I went with a colleague last night and saw Vantage Point -- the latest 'smart terrorists who can orchestrate the killing of hundreds of thousands of innocent people in order to kidnap the President, but in the long run are ultimately stopped by the simplest of mistakes that any nimrod would know not to make' movie from Sony. Okay, my description isn't very good. The tagline for the movie will probably help out.

"Eight strangers. Eight points of view. One truth."

.. yeah, clever tagline delivered from Pete Travis, but the sad truth is that it's not really clever at all. In fact, if you just read the tagline, you really don't even have to go see the movie to get what it's about. As it implies, the film follows eight different people, has two mysterious explosions, and a couple of gunshots that hit the president (or IS IT?!!?!?!!?!?!?) and a surprisingly good car chase through the streets of Spain. The only smarts I see in making this film is the initially annoying rewind they do five times throughout the film to the very beginning; which is always, always, always at 12:00PM. You'll get used to that stupid church bell ringing by the end of the movie, trust us.

Every time the film rewinds, you're given the different 'vantage point' from all the people of the movie. Sometimes it's just one person, and sometimes it's a couple of people with the same agenda. It's an interesting idea (although not new) and the director does a pretty good job of clouding up what all the different people are doing and their motives... if it wasn't for the trailer, I might have been surprised. After watching the trailer once, I could guess who the terrorists were, that the president had a double, and that the little dude with the cellphone was behind his kidnapping.

In short, there's a few twists that make you say, "OHHHH!" and "So that's why the giant ant colony was kept a secret for so long!", but unless you're one of those twist junkies, I wouldn't recommend it until it hits the $2 theater.

Well, I guess I wrote more of a spoiler than a review. But don't feel bad or be mad at me: there's really nothing else to the movie... except the half decent car chase, a la Dennis Quaid and his chin.


Only you can do it, Dennis.

Saudi teenagers, AKA: Logan 5.

I found this article -- and also found it funny -- on Babylon and Beyond.

"Saudi Arabia's religious police ordered the arrest of 57 young men last week for "flirting" with members of the opposite sex while hanging out at shopping malls.

The Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and Prevention of Vice, often called the Mutaween by locals, accused the young men of "wearing indecent clothes and playing loud music and dancing to it to attract girls' attention," according to the Saudi Gazette, an English-language daily published in the kingdom.

The young men's defenders said they were just trying to "have fun" without "imposing themselves" on women."

Ya know... I can taunt those young men, Saudi Arabia, and hell even the 'poor girls' they hit on all I want, and the sad realization is: I still don't know how to talk to women. Maybe the Saudis could teach me a thing or two.

Taking a breather..

Hey we all deserve a vacation, right?

Oh yeah, Bret (from the corner) will most likely puke something up every once in a while for the sake of this blog from now on.

human fly

Russian Soldier, Grozny.

(NEED ORIGIN OF PHOTO)

For great justice.

I need this.

Of all the things I've ever actually desired in my life, this might be the one to top them all and bring me to my knees in a financial downfall; as if I ever have enough money to blow on this and survive on Top Ramen and Nyquil for a year, I certainly will:

THE TRUTH!

SPREAD THE TRUTH!

FREEMASONRY AND INTELLIGENCE AGENCIES, CORRUPT, THINK TANKS ..

THEY'RE ON TO ME

TELL MY WIFE AND KIDS I LOVE THEM, I'M GOING TO TRY AND ESCA--

The Siff.

Kevin

Kartagener Syndrome, Chapter 2 by ~seanfus on deviantART

Taken in late 2005.

The Black Lips

My good friend Robbie Dick of CSLB threw a ticket for the Black Lips at the El Rey... not my favorite venue to swagger n' sway to live music, but I'll make an appearance for them. It'll make up for the night him and I missed The Growlers play with them at the [nasty] Detroit Bar.

Hubble Ultra-Deep Field

The Hubble Ultra-Deep Field (click image for larger, unbelievable image) is a picture taken from a section of outer space in the Fornax constellation; it is the deepest look into outer space with visible light. It was taken over a period of 4 months, contains over 10,000 galaxies, and looks back in time nearly 13 billion years.

If you ask me, Scully and Mulder have a lot of ground to cover.

Maybe it's just the kid in me that gets giddy at the wonders and span of our infinite universe, but reminding myself of high school astronomy with things like this (and remembering the discovery of them) brings me back to a day where I didn't have to live off Top Ramen and Nyquil.

My type of princess

My type of princess: Drunk, slim and pantless.

It's a lonely life.

Anton's colorful vocabulary

Being a long-time Brian Jonestown Massacre fan, I periodically check up on Anton Newcombe [the founder, front-man, multi instrumentalist, and self-proclaimed civic prophet] and the band to see what madness they've conjured up. For those of you who haven't seen the rockumentary Dig!, it's worth the cost; despite if you like the music of either the Massacre, or the Dandy Warhols.

While Youtubing, I came across this video of Anton during one of his live concert rants.

In case you've never heard of the dogmatist that is Anton Newcombe, here's the Wiki article that touches up pretty well, although it leaves out some key events and happenings that you can pick up in Dig!.



From the N-word to the F-word, it's a pretty good Anton moment. I've noticed that the majority of people who actually go to their shows are only there to throw bottles, fruit, and generally antagonize Anton. It's a deterrent to myself as a fan because I'd like to see them play again without a hitch, but it seems like that day is far away with nimrods like these constantly poking the sleeping bear that is Anton.

"People talk about Eric Clapton. What has he ever done except throw his baby off a fuckin' ledge and write a song about it?"

-Anton Newcombe

If you didn't know, now you have an idea.