It's becoming apparent to me now at this point that pregnancy is the first part of life, at least according to these postings, but I do think Birth is a better start, so I will keep Birth as the title until I'm completely done with it.
Back to pregnancy types. There's also insemination. Men with women sometimes have low sperm counts and can't get their wives pregneant. So he jacks off into a clear plastic cup, which is given to a chef, or "doctor" who takes a turkey baster, water gun, or whatever injection device he can find, puts sperm into selected item, and the sperm is shot violently into the woman's genitals. And 7 out of 10 times it works! (There's a 10% chance that's true) The woman usually has to do numerous handstands after operation, but it's worth it.
This procedure is also done with sad single women who can't find love in the real world, so select a donor to provide her with sperm to fill her loneliness with a baby. Lesbians probably do this too, but they usually keep to themselves.
IMPORTANT NOTE: Turkey baster/water gun/injection tool does NOT work in reverse. You CANNOT remove a baby by sucking it out with a turkey baster. DO NOT TRY, but if you do, please buy a new baster for this. If not, don't invite people over for Thanksgiving Dinner and expect them to want seconds. Especially with your unwanted newborn making things awkward.
The last way to get pregnant is test tube babies. I think it was aliens who showed us how to do this, but its not as space aged as those liberals would have you think. Instead of going through the 5 minute hassle of sex, people instead spend hours/day and thousands of dollars talking to doctors and getting a procedure done. Whereas sex has the sperm travel ALL THE WAY through the vagina, this gives sperm an express train ride.
The doctors remove an egg from the woman and plop it down on the table. Then take some sperm from the man put it in a baster and inject it into the egg that was previously plopped down. The egg is then reinserted into the woman, and now she is pregnant. Some women even pay other women to do this because they think having sperm in them is disgustion and being pregnant is weird and just not for them. Also, this way is more humane. Most sperm die during sex, and out of the millions of sperm, you are lucky is the girl even gets pregnant. More sperm die during one night of sex then the total number of Americans killed in WWI and WWII combined).
Finally, couples sometimes pay a woman who is already pregnant for their unwanted child. This woman probably has an unplanned pregnancy and instead of kill the unborn child inside her she decides to have it and just live her life knowing she has a child somewhere in the world that doesn't even know she exists. You'd think that a lot of minorites would be giving their children away, but oddly enough, its mostly white teenagers.
But does it really matter how a woman or couple gets pregnant. Once she's knocked up, shoe's knocked up. When you discover a baby's coming, you should start planning for birth. Everyone I know, alive or dead, started their life by being born. No one just exists, you must be born. I'd say birth may be the most important part of life.
The pregnancy is now over and the baby is about to be born. Prepared for Birth: Part Three soon.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Birth: Part One
Foreword: This was written on the train coming home from the city last night. I'm just going to copy word for word what I wrote.
Birth: Part One
Most people, if not all people, don't have control of their births. In fact, the odds of you existing the exact way that you do is extraordinary. Millions of sperm inside each of the billions of men on earth. Out of all those men, one finds one of the billions of women, sleeps with her, shoots millions of sperm into her vagina during ejaculation and impregnant her egg or eggs. I'm no mathematician, but I'm going to guess with all those people and all them sperm, the odds of you being born is like 1 out of 50. Pretty high right? Well maybe I'll make an equation. It's something like (Sperm X Men)/(Population of Women/Eggs)=50 TRILLION! 50 trillion. Think about that and just how special and rare you really are.
So to be born is pretty special and even though you have no control of it, it is a necessary STEP 1 to Life. You can't live without being born. (At least thats true right now. The future might change that. I'm not sure how cloning works or if people in the Matrix or born or actually grown. But that's for the peopel in the future to worry about. Let's focus on us) Technically, your life begins while you are in the womb. You go through so many stages as you develop in your mother. You start as a simple egg with a sperm, making a whole DNA strand. Once fertilized the egg splits into more and more cells and then you're a fetus. My 8th grade biology education has left me so if you wish to learn more about cleavage and placenta just google it, though in the case of cleavage be sure to add baby or pregnancy in the search, though "pregnant cleavage" might get you some misleading and possibly disturbing pictures. I feel like my statement that you exist before birth is cause for an abortion argument, which isn't what I'm trying to start. Unless the argument involves two woman, HOT women, in bikinis, and the only way to win the argument is to rip the other one's bikini off. In that case, I hope I inspired an informative debate about abortion.
Hot bikini chicks aside, births are special. Special for you, your parents, maybe even the doctor. And before I get to the different types of birth, I will discuss the different types of pregnancy. You have your planned pregnancy where a man and a woman have sex with the only intention to get the woman pregnant, the way God intended it. God loves this type of pregnancy be HE believes sex is evil and should only be done to increase the population of the Catholics. While there's planned pregnancy, there's also unplanned pregnancy. Now the reasons for unplanned pregnancy are plentiful. Condom could've broken, birth control pills were actually candy, the "pull out" method was done too late, a girl intentionally gets pregnant because she's crazy in love with the guy, but the guy is just trying to have a good time. The original plan of "planned pregnancy" failed so couple went back to fun sex, in defiance of God, then got pregnant anyway. There's more. Sitting on a public toiler, anal sex that had some drippage, smoking pot or drinking underage, swallowing instead of spitting, spitting into your vagina, and finally being the Mother of Our Lord And Savior. There's so many ways to get pregnant it is hard to think anyone is not currently pregnant. Anyway, unplanned pregnancies are usually very upsetting at first, BUT then ruin your entire life. Well that's more true for women. The Prom Queen gets pregnant, the Prom King goes to college. The important part to remember about being a baby of an unplanned pregnancy is that you are still special, with regards to the odds of existing, but you are much less special in the eyes of your regretful parents. They don't want you and hopefully they'll put you up for adoption and not put you up in a garbage dumpster. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I'll cover dumpster babies later on.
Alright, Part One is complete. I wrote more on train, but now's not the time to do anymore writing
Birth: Part One
Most people, if not all people, don't have control of their births. In fact, the odds of you existing the exact way that you do is extraordinary. Millions of sperm inside each of the billions of men on earth. Out of all those men, one finds one of the billions of women, sleeps with her, shoots millions of sperm into her vagina during ejaculation and impregnant her egg or eggs. I'm no mathematician, but I'm going to guess with all those people and all them sperm, the odds of you being born is like 1 out of 50. Pretty high right? Well maybe I'll make an equation. It's something like (Sperm X Men)/(Population of Women/Eggs)=50 TRILLION! 50 trillion. Think about that and just how special and rare you really are.
So to be born is pretty special and even though you have no control of it, it is a necessary STEP 1 to Life. You can't live without being born. (At least thats true right now. The future might change that. I'm not sure how cloning works or if people in the Matrix or born or actually grown. But that's for the peopel in the future to worry about. Let's focus on us) Technically, your life begins while you are in the womb. You go through so many stages as you develop in your mother. You start as a simple egg with a sperm, making a whole DNA strand. Once fertilized the egg splits into more and more cells and then you're a fetus. My 8th grade biology education has left me so if you wish to learn more about cleavage and placenta just google it, though in the case of cleavage be sure to add baby or pregnancy in the search, though "pregnant cleavage" might get you some misleading and possibly disturbing pictures. I feel like my statement that you exist before birth is cause for an abortion argument, which isn't what I'm trying to start. Unless the argument involves two woman, HOT women, in bikinis, and the only way to win the argument is to rip the other one's bikini off. In that case, I hope I inspired an informative debate about abortion.
Hot bikini chicks aside, births are special. Special for you, your parents, maybe even the doctor. And before I get to the different types of birth, I will discuss the different types of pregnancy. You have your planned pregnancy where a man and a woman have sex with the only intention to get the woman pregnant, the way God intended it. God loves this type of pregnancy be HE believes sex is evil and should only be done to increase the population of the Catholics. While there's planned pregnancy, there's also unplanned pregnancy. Now the reasons for unplanned pregnancy are plentiful. Condom could've broken, birth control pills were actually candy, the "pull out" method was done too late, a girl intentionally gets pregnant because she's crazy in love with the guy, but the guy is just trying to have a good time. The original plan of "planned pregnancy" failed so couple went back to fun sex, in defiance of God, then got pregnant anyway. There's more. Sitting on a public toiler, anal sex that had some drippage, smoking pot or drinking underage, swallowing instead of spitting, spitting into your vagina, and finally being the Mother of Our Lord And Savior. There's so many ways to get pregnant it is hard to think anyone is not currently pregnant. Anyway, unplanned pregnancies are usually very upsetting at first, BUT then ruin your entire life. Well that's more true for women. The Prom Queen gets pregnant, the Prom King goes to college. The important part to remember about being a baby of an unplanned pregnancy is that you are still special, with regards to the odds of existing, but you are much less special in the eyes of your regretful parents. They don't want you and hopefully they'll put you up for adoption and not put you up in a garbage dumpster. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I'll cover dumpster babies later on.
Alright, Part One is complete. I wrote more on train, but now's not the time to do anymore writing
Monday, August 30, 2010
HOW TO LIVE
I've decided that I'm going to change the point of this blog. I haven't written here in a long time and I think that's due to lack of a theme. So I came up with a good topic to write my blog around. I didn't just come up with this today, or yesterday, or even a month ago. I'd have to ask my dad exactly when, but I'm gonna guess 5th grade. It was around the time I got "Bart Simpson's Guide to Life" and my Simpsons fandom was peaking pretty good at age 11. Though I did build the best fucking Simpsons Trivia game ever in 7th grade (w/the help of one Meridith Neirenberg).
It was an idea for a book. A book about Life. Not about the board game, though that could be include, but more specifically about How to Live Life. You're probably saying to yourself, "Dave there's already books about how to live life," or maybe "Why am I reading this blog right now" or even "What are these odd characters on this screen. I wish I could read" Well, I'll say that there are many books about how you SHOULD live life, or how you SHOULD live a BETTER life, but no books on how to live. What's the difference? Well this isn't a self-help book. I don't care if you are overweight or have some mental issues, this book won't help you. But if you don't know how to consume food, or intake oxygen, then this is exactly what you are looking for.
Are you confused? This book, now blog, gives direction on how to live and how to continue to live. It will tell you how to breathe, eat, drink, anything that one person needs to exist. If you are overweight, go buy a diet book. If you are on your death bed, read this blog. If you still don't understand, I'm sure it will make complete sense once I begin to write more entries into the blog.
It should be noted at this juncture that I almost never proofread my blogs, I never edit, and most of the time I'm intoxicated while writing, so I apologize for any entries that offend, confuse, or enrage you the reader. Also, my grammar skills are not that great, but if that makes you offended or enraged, I don't care; confused, well that would make sense.
So stay tuned for my next post. HOW TO LIVE: CHAPTER 1. BIRTH
It was an idea for a book. A book about Life. Not about the board game, though that could be include, but more specifically about How to Live Life. You're probably saying to yourself, "Dave there's already books about how to live life," or maybe "Why am I reading this blog right now" or even "What are these odd characters on this screen. I wish I could read" Well, I'll say that there are many books about how you SHOULD live life, or how you SHOULD live a BETTER life, but no books on how to live. What's the difference? Well this isn't a self-help book. I don't care if you are overweight or have some mental issues, this book won't help you. But if you don't know how to consume food, or intake oxygen, then this is exactly what you are looking for.
Are you confused? This book, now blog, gives direction on how to live and how to continue to live. It will tell you how to breathe, eat, drink, anything that one person needs to exist. If you are overweight, go buy a diet book. If you are on your death bed, read this blog. If you still don't understand, I'm sure it will make complete sense once I begin to write more entries into the blog.
It should be noted at this juncture that I almost never proofread my blogs, I never edit, and most of the time I'm intoxicated while writing, so I apologize for any entries that offend, confuse, or enrage you the reader. Also, my grammar skills are not that great, but if that makes you offended or enraged, I don't care; confused, well that would make sense.
So stay tuned for my next post. HOW TO LIVE: CHAPTER 1. BIRTH
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Christmas Song
I will not be posting this link on facebook because of why I'm posting. I just found my self-written Xmas Song about Mrs. Claus. It's called "Mrs. Claus: I Love You." I'm putting it here so I will have a copy of it somewhere.
On this Silent Night,
You sit all alone.
Roasting Chestnuts,
On that open fire glow.
But this Winter Wonderland,
Just can not do,
O Mrs. Claus,
I Love You.
I'll fuck you in the front, I'll fuck you in the back
I'll fuck you with an elf in the reindeer shack.
I'll fuck you in the ass in Santa's Workshop.
And the only thing I ask is to cum in your twat.
Your titties make me hard, I just love your bust,
I'll fig your pudding while you roast on my nuts.
O Mrs. Claus
You're an Angel It's True.
O Mrs. Claus, I Love You.
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock
You can jingle my balls while you suck on my cock.
Frosty's got his pipe and some extra weed,
Let's smoke this shit, then I'll give you what you need.
Rudolph shines his nose so bright,
I'll cum in you face if that's what you like.
O Mrs. Claus
You're an Angel It's True.
O Mrs. Claus, I Love You.
It's bukkake time so I brought some friends,
The Grinch, Scrooge, and the Three Wise Men.
Santa tonight may be going to town,
But I'll make you cume when I make my dick brown.
I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus,
So fuck that dick and show him who's boss
Santa's back so I'm gonna go,
I'll see you next year you slutty ass ho
On this Silent Night,
You sit all alone.
Roasting Chestnuts,
On that open fire glow.
But this Winter Wonderland,
Just can not do,
O Mrs. Claus,
I Love You.
I'll fuck you in the front, I'll fuck you in the back
I'll fuck you with an elf in the reindeer shack.
I'll fuck you in the ass in Santa's Workshop.
And the only thing I ask is to cum in your twat.
Your titties make me hard, I just love your bust,
I'll fig your pudding while you roast on my nuts.
O Mrs. Claus
You're an Angel It's True.
O Mrs. Claus, I Love You.
Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock
You can jingle my balls while you suck on my cock.
Frosty's got his pipe and some extra weed,
Let's smoke this shit, then I'll give you what you need.
Rudolph shines his nose so bright,
I'll cum in you face if that's what you like.
O Mrs. Claus
You're an Angel It's True.
O Mrs. Claus, I Love You.
It's bukkake time so I brought some friends,
The Grinch, Scrooge, and the Three Wise Men.
Santa tonight may be going to town,
But I'll make you cume when I make my dick brown.
I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus,
So fuck that dick and show him who's boss
Santa's back so I'm gonna go,
I'll see you next year you slutty ass ho
Thursday, July 29, 2010
I Apologize
I started this blog to increase my writing, and yet here I am, (INSERT TIME) later and I missed (INSERT TIME) so I'll make it up to my followers. A.K.A No one (Well Kirsten told me she follows me, but other than that) here's to you Kirsten. I'll make this quick because I'm getting drunker and tireder as I type.
I'm going to make 3 points of business. No. I won't
I'm writing and here we go. Forget the last blog. I was gonna make a joke about walking in on your friend's parents having sex and them not caring since u aren't their child and u never being welcome again, but I'm not going to.
I'm going to make a solid point. That point is...Well that point is...Well here it is...
A few weeks ago, AJ gave me his How I Met Your Mother DVD's. There's a character that hits on every girl, and gets laid all the time. I began to think, Hrmph, maybe I should start getting proactive. Stop being afraid of girls saying NO, and start thinking, Maybe they'll say YES. So I'm rethinking my social atmosphere. Not to say I do anything wrong or right, but I'm going to change the way I do wrong or right. I'm tired of being afraid of NO. I'm tired of them saying "Dave Seeman, you should slash your wrist" and I'm tired of being tired. So from now on, so what if a girl says no. Everytime I approach a girl, and they say no, I'm still happy I went up to them.
I'm going to finish this blog. I didn't really have a point, I didn't have a message, but by Golly I'm just trying to build a better self.
I'm going to make 3 points of business. No. I won't
I'm writing and here we go. Forget the last blog. I was gonna make a joke about walking in on your friend's parents having sex and them not caring since u aren't their child and u never being welcome again, but I'm not going to.
I'm going to make a solid point. That point is...Well that point is...Well here it is...
A few weeks ago, AJ gave me his How I Met Your Mother DVD's. There's a character that hits on every girl, and gets laid all the time. I began to think, Hrmph, maybe I should start getting proactive. Stop being afraid of girls saying NO, and start thinking, Maybe they'll say YES. So I'm rethinking my social atmosphere. Not to say I do anything wrong or right, but I'm going to change the way I do wrong or right. I'm tired of being afraid of NO. I'm tired of them saying "Dave Seeman, you should slash your wrist" and I'm tired of being tired. So from now on, so what if a girl says no. Everytime I approach a girl, and they say no, I'm still happy I went up to them.
I'm going to finish this blog. I didn't really have a point, I didn't have a message, but by Golly I'm just trying to build a better self.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Adult Sex
So I would apologize, but there aren't enough followers for me to feel sorry for not writing recently. I'm going to start with something i might have already spoken of, but i'm going to switch it up a bit.
I am drunk currently which has been one of my goals with this blog; to write a drunken blog entry that is entertaining and informative. So here we go.
I've never walked in on my parents haven't sex. I can image it would be horrifying and disturbing, but also somewhat expected. I mean everyone thinks about walking in on their parents having sex. As a kid you don't think about it, but you constantly walked in on your parents. "Hey, it's cold in my room." "Mom, there's a scary noise in my closet." "I thought you guys were having sex so I walked in." You exist because your parents had sex, so you must've thought about it. (Unless you were adopted, in which case you probably have access to a razorblade and can touch your wrist.)
Anyway, I'm about to fall alseep so I'll try to make this quick. Imagine how awkward it is to see your parents have sex. You don't want to see it, they don't want you to see it, but at least you'll get a comforting talk. What it more awkward is walking in on your Friends Parents having sex.
I'm really tired so I'll finish this thought tomorrow. For the time being, don't walk into your parent's or friend's parents' bedrooms.
I am drunk currently which has been one of my goals with this blog; to write a drunken blog entry that is entertaining and informative. So here we go.
I've never walked in on my parents haven't sex. I can image it would be horrifying and disturbing, but also somewhat expected. I mean everyone thinks about walking in on their parents having sex. As a kid you don't think about it, but you constantly walked in on your parents. "Hey, it's cold in my room." "Mom, there's a scary noise in my closet." "I thought you guys were having sex so I walked in." You exist because your parents had sex, so you must've thought about it. (Unless you were adopted, in which case you probably have access to a razorblade and can touch your wrist.)
Anyway, I'm about to fall alseep so I'll try to make this quick. Imagine how awkward it is to see your parents have sex. You don't want to see it, they don't want you to see it, but at least you'll get a comforting talk. What it more awkward is walking in on your Friends Parents having sex.
I'm really tired so I'll finish this thought tomorrow. For the time being, don't walk into your parent's or friend's parents' bedrooms.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Burning Down the House / Animals
Early post today. I've been wanting to write a drunk entry, but when I get drunk I also get tired, so I usually fall asleep instead of writing. It may be for the better. Usually when I get drunk I get stuck on one topic for a very long time and in a lot of unnecessary detail. So on this beautiful summer day, I'll give you a sober entry. Though I plan on start drinking pretty soon, so maybe later I'll give you a drunk entry.
I had a dream last night that I had to drive to some business outside the city where apparently everyone I knew worked. So after carpooling with everyone there I parked my car. My friends were also drunk for their 9-5 jobs and stood in front of a car trying to park. Now they only did it for like 10 seconds, so it wasn't that bad, but the driver of the car didn't laugh. In fact he came out, along with 3 of his friends and put a knife in my face. As the driver and the only one who didn't work their, I didn't feel that a knife in my face was appropriate. We all eventually calmed down and me and the knife wielding man got some Chinese food. During our Chinese food eating, I bumped into a friend who happen to be driving a huge van that day. Well by standing in front of the car like my friends did, it apparently made the car break, which I only learned at this moment as the knife wielding man explained how he needed a ride. So we picked everyone up and the van friend drove everyone home. When I got home I realized I forgot my car. I said I'd just go tomorrow with everyone again and pick up my car when they went to work. NOPE. Because everyone was drunk and carrying knives, everyone got fired and no one wanted to ever go back to the building. The knife wielding man offered to drive me back that night. When we got to my car, the doors, locks, and other parts were missing. Then the knife wielding man cursed me out, took credit for the theft and pushed me out of the car. I wasn't really that upset with being stranded, but I was confused how he blamed me for the car breaking down.
So that was all I could really think of to write about. I also had a dream where bonnarroo was in Boston and everyone was eating salami sandwiches that had some type of drug in it.
As I'm watching "Life" a movie about Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence in prison back in the 30's. They spend their whole LIFES in jail, hence the name. The thought that had crossed my mind is that I would much rather be in a black work camp prison then any white prison any day. They spend their days outside, talking and making jokes, playing baseball, sleeping with the warden's daughter. Sounds like a much better time then Andy Dufrene getting ass raped by the Sisters. And when they escape, they just set fire to a building, they don't have to crawl through 3 football fields of shit and piss.
Speaking of burning down buildings, does anyone else ever get that urge? To just set fire to buildings and furniture and people? No...yeah, me neither.
I think if I could speak to any animal in the world, I could only pick one species of animal to talk to, it would be alligators. Some people might pick dogs, because you have them as a pet. Well the conversations would never get past food. And knowing that they can talk to you, well they are so attached to people they would never stop talking to you. "I love you. I love you, can I eat something" No thanks. Cats probably wouldn't even talk back to you, those stuck up assholes.
Maybe someone would pick something more exotic, like a lion or elephant. Well the only times I would interact with an animal like that would be at a zoo, and zoo's aren't a happy place for animals. They would provide you with very depressing conversations and you'd probably just stop going to the zoo after that. So this is why I'd pick alligators. Alligators can kill you. They will kill you because they like to eat, and people are weaker and stupider than alligators. So with the ability to talk to alligators I could form an alliance with them. I could convince them that I am a great man and I should not be eaten. Even more so, I could convince them who SHOULD be eaten and form an army of alligators. And no one would know that it was me behind these killings, they would just blame the alligators. And then after people started getting really scared, that's when I would train the alligators to set fire to buildings. Then I would set fire to buildings. So much burning...but yeah, alligators. I would also accept any other animal with a killing capacity.
I mean at the very least I wouldn't have to worry about alligators and at the very best I engulf the world in flames with my Army of Torch Alligators. ATA they'd be known as, at least until everyone was dead. Then they wouldn't be known as anything, since everyone would be dead. But then you have to worry about the alligators that find out my plan and sympathize with humanity. I'd have to come up with a Fascist government regime for the alligators and make sure I found out the spies. Though, with alligators, I can't see much of them caring about humanity. Though they might be using me, and right as I conquer the world, they eat me and then they have the power.
There's a lot of kinks to work out, but you shouldn't worry about it. Just live your life to the fullest, keep on dreaming, and when an alligator starts eating you, just accept the inevitable and get eaten.
Alright, let's get some lunch in me.
I had a dream last night that I had to drive to some business outside the city where apparently everyone I knew worked. So after carpooling with everyone there I parked my car. My friends were also drunk for their 9-5 jobs and stood in front of a car trying to park. Now they only did it for like 10 seconds, so it wasn't that bad, but the driver of the car didn't laugh. In fact he came out, along with 3 of his friends and put a knife in my face. As the driver and the only one who didn't work their, I didn't feel that a knife in my face was appropriate. We all eventually calmed down and me and the knife wielding man got some Chinese food. During our Chinese food eating, I bumped into a friend who happen to be driving a huge van that day. Well by standing in front of the car like my friends did, it apparently made the car break, which I only learned at this moment as the knife wielding man explained how he needed a ride. So we picked everyone up and the van friend drove everyone home. When I got home I realized I forgot my car. I said I'd just go tomorrow with everyone again and pick up my car when they went to work. NOPE. Because everyone was drunk and carrying knives, everyone got fired and no one wanted to ever go back to the building. The knife wielding man offered to drive me back that night. When we got to my car, the doors, locks, and other parts were missing. Then the knife wielding man cursed me out, took credit for the theft and pushed me out of the car. I wasn't really that upset with being stranded, but I was confused how he blamed me for the car breaking down.
So that was all I could really think of to write about. I also had a dream where bonnarroo was in Boston and everyone was eating salami sandwiches that had some type of drug in it.
As I'm watching "Life" a movie about Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence in prison back in the 30's. They spend their whole LIFES in jail, hence the name. The thought that had crossed my mind is that I would much rather be in a black work camp prison then any white prison any day. They spend their days outside, talking and making jokes, playing baseball, sleeping with the warden's daughter. Sounds like a much better time then Andy Dufrene getting ass raped by the Sisters. And when they escape, they just set fire to a building, they don't have to crawl through 3 football fields of shit and piss.
Speaking of burning down buildings, does anyone else ever get that urge? To just set fire to buildings and furniture and people? No...yeah, me neither.
I think if I could speak to any animal in the world, I could only pick one species of animal to talk to, it would be alligators. Some people might pick dogs, because you have them as a pet. Well the conversations would never get past food. And knowing that they can talk to you, well they are so attached to people they would never stop talking to you. "I love you. I love you, can I eat something" No thanks. Cats probably wouldn't even talk back to you, those stuck up assholes.
Maybe someone would pick something more exotic, like a lion or elephant. Well the only times I would interact with an animal like that would be at a zoo, and zoo's aren't a happy place for animals. They would provide you with very depressing conversations and you'd probably just stop going to the zoo after that. So this is why I'd pick alligators. Alligators can kill you. They will kill you because they like to eat, and people are weaker and stupider than alligators. So with the ability to talk to alligators I could form an alliance with them. I could convince them that I am a great man and I should not be eaten. Even more so, I could convince them who SHOULD be eaten and form an army of alligators. And no one would know that it was me behind these killings, they would just blame the alligators. And then after people started getting really scared, that's when I would train the alligators to set fire to buildings. Then I would set fire to buildings. So much burning...but yeah, alligators. I would also accept any other animal with a killing capacity.
I mean at the very least I wouldn't have to worry about alligators and at the very best I engulf the world in flames with my Army of Torch Alligators. ATA they'd be known as, at least until everyone was dead. Then they wouldn't be known as anything, since everyone would be dead. But then you have to worry about the alligators that find out my plan and sympathize with humanity. I'd have to come up with a Fascist government regime for the alligators and make sure I found out the spies. Though, with alligators, I can't see much of them caring about humanity. Though they might be using me, and right as I conquer the world, they eat me and then they have the power.
There's a lot of kinks to work out, but you shouldn't worry about it. Just live your life to the fullest, keep on dreaming, and when an alligator starts eating you, just accept the inevitable and get eaten.
Alright, let's get some lunch in me.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Hard Sexual Choices / Kittens
Today while I defecated into my toilet I began to think about a troubling scenario. I will present that scenario to you know. If you had to pick, HAD TO, which would you pick? You could either walk in on your sibling having sex or your parents. Now don't just pick so quickly. I want you to really think about this. It's a hard question. Think about the possibilities. Think about the place, the possible toys involved. Think really hard. I'll give you a minute to decide.
Think some more.
Keep thinking.
Done thinking? NOPE. Think again.
Alright. You can decide now.
Now I hoped that my plan has worked. My planned was to get you, the reader, to think about your family members having sex not only for a good length of time, but also in good detail. Where were your parents? In their bed? In YOURS? Did your brother do anything kinky to his girlfriend? Or maybe you just found out he's gay? Would that make you want to walk in on him more?
To be honest I'm not going to pick for you or for me, but it's something that some people do go through and we shouldn't make this into a laughing matter because it's not funny for the people it's happened to and it's sure as hell not funny if that person is you.
Today was the first full day of summer. Yesterday began summer, but today was a full on 24 hours. Like Jack Bauer. They should call ever day after the seasonal solstice Jack Bauer Day. Or at the very least, someone should give me a present, preferably a visit by Jack Bauer. Depending on the season would depend on which Jack Bauer I get. Winter I feel like would be heroin addicted Jack Bauer. What a Christmas I would have...if I remembered it.
Some people keep a diary or journal. I feel like if there was a season that diary writing was most common it would be summer. People are off, relaxing. It's just conducive to writing. I would call my Summer Diary, "A Summery Summary of Summer's Summer." In this scenario, I have changed my name to Summer.
If you don't know or haven't heard or been out of the loop, possibly out of the news cycle, haven't read your google reader in a few days, maybe been out of town, or maybe you do know, I have a cat. His name is Buster and sometimes he craps in the house. His mother, a disgusting feral she-beast, lives in my backyard. His mother just gave birth to more kittens. Now I'm a nice guy, I like animals, but I have to say, God knows how to test me.
Recently we've gotten a new in-ground pool and God had already given me a pair of healthy hands. How in the world can I watch those kittens run around my backyard and not feel the urge to grab one or all of the kittens and drown them mercifully in the pool with my God given hands. Now I know what you are thinking, "Dave. Drowning kittens might ruin the pool. Think of the time and money it would take to clean and sanitize the pool after a kitten drowning." Trust me I know. But then you might say, "Well you could drown them in the filter that way the pool would mostly stay clean." Yeah, but I couldn't guarantee that the pool WOULD be clean. Now I know what you would say, "Well couldn't you just fill up a bucket with water by the pool and drown them in that." And I would simply smile and wink at you, implying I had already killed the kittens by that matter. And you would laugh. And I would say, "I'm sorry, but you just failed the test." And you would say "What test?" And then my body would appear to be some type of costume or suit. And when you poked me, the costume would fall apart, leaving a bunch of kittens on the ground. Before you could yell for help, the kittens would already have pounced on you. The twist...You become their new suit, waiting patiently for the next person to take their test.
Now as I was writing that past passage I stopped halfway through and almost erased the entire idea. I decided to keep it because I liked it even if I thought no one else would and also because I have to try and stop these kittens somehow. Next time you see me, just to be safe, say nice things about cats.
Think some more.
Keep thinking.
Done thinking? NOPE. Think again.
Alright. You can decide now.
Now I hoped that my plan has worked. My planned was to get you, the reader, to think about your family members having sex not only for a good length of time, but also in good detail. Where were your parents? In their bed? In YOURS? Did your brother do anything kinky to his girlfriend? Or maybe you just found out he's gay? Would that make you want to walk in on him more?
To be honest I'm not going to pick for you or for me, but it's something that some people do go through and we shouldn't make this into a laughing matter because it's not funny for the people it's happened to and it's sure as hell not funny if that person is you.
Today was the first full day of summer. Yesterday began summer, but today was a full on 24 hours. Like Jack Bauer. They should call ever day after the seasonal solstice Jack Bauer Day. Or at the very least, someone should give me a present, preferably a visit by Jack Bauer. Depending on the season would depend on which Jack Bauer I get. Winter I feel like would be heroin addicted Jack Bauer. What a Christmas I would have...if I remembered it.
Some people keep a diary or journal. I feel like if there was a season that diary writing was most common it would be summer. People are off, relaxing. It's just conducive to writing. I would call my Summer Diary, "A Summery Summary of Summer's Summer." In this scenario, I have changed my name to Summer.
If you don't know or haven't heard or been out of the loop, possibly out of the news cycle, haven't read your google reader in a few days, maybe been out of town, or maybe you do know, I have a cat. His name is Buster and sometimes he craps in the house. His mother, a disgusting feral she-beast, lives in my backyard. His mother just gave birth to more kittens. Now I'm a nice guy, I like animals, but I have to say, God knows how to test me.
Recently we've gotten a new in-ground pool and God had already given me a pair of healthy hands. How in the world can I watch those kittens run around my backyard and not feel the urge to grab one or all of the kittens and drown them mercifully in the pool with my God given hands. Now I know what you are thinking, "Dave. Drowning kittens might ruin the pool. Think of the time and money it would take to clean and sanitize the pool after a kitten drowning." Trust me I know. But then you might say, "Well you could drown them in the filter that way the pool would mostly stay clean." Yeah, but I couldn't guarantee that the pool WOULD be clean. Now I know what you would say, "Well couldn't you just fill up a bucket with water by the pool and drown them in that." And I would simply smile and wink at you, implying I had already killed the kittens by that matter. And you would laugh. And I would say, "I'm sorry, but you just failed the test." And you would say "What test?" And then my body would appear to be some type of costume or suit. And when you poked me, the costume would fall apart, leaving a bunch of kittens on the ground. Before you could yell for help, the kittens would already have pounced on you. The twist...You become their new suit, waiting patiently for the next person to take their test.
Now as I was writing that past passage I stopped halfway through and almost erased the entire idea. I decided to keep it because I liked it even if I thought no one else would and also because I have to try and stop these kittens somehow. Next time you see me, just to be safe, say nice things about cats.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Easter Egg
I decided to write something today since it is my last day at HBO. Well, at least my last for this temp assignment. For all I know I might get a call next week to come in, or I might never recieve that phone call and spend endless hours waiting for my cell to ring. I've spent a lot of my time a HBO applying for other jobs, though only 2 unpaid positions replied. I also do have the Syfy job as a backup for the rest of the month. Crap money, crap hours, crap job, but at least it's crap money as opposed to no money.
I have just realized that I have nothing to write about. Not the usual, I have nothing to write about so here's a whole bunch of random crap I'm thinking of. I mean, I have nothing to write about. I'm tired, I have an hour and a half to go and I just want to sleep on the train. I think I'm going to post this without even making a facebook or twiiter post. This will remain as an easter egg blog entry. Only those truly following will see it.
You deserve better. Next time I'll work much harder on this.
I have just realized that I have nothing to write about. Not the usual, I have nothing to write about so here's a whole bunch of random crap I'm thinking of. I mean, I have nothing to write about. I'm tired, I have an hour and a half to go and I just want to sleep on the train. I think I'm going to post this without even making a facebook or twiiter post. This will remain as an easter egg blog entry. Only those truly following will see it.
You deserve better. Next time I'll work much harder on this.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Back Up Underpants / No Pets Allowed
Before I get to my main topic today, I briefly wanted to touch upon the Back-Up Underpants idea I wrote about the other day. Today there was a fire drill. I don't think I've had a fire drill since my internship here at HBO, but nonetheless there was a fire drill. Had this been a real fire, depending on the extent of the fire, I'm sure that the 13th floor wouldn't make it out alive. Regardless, even if I did live through the fire, I would've still been incapacitated. I have yet to put a back-up underpants in my bag. Maybe someone knew. How often is there a fire drill? What are the chances it would happen a few days after coming up with the back-up underwear idea? I'm guessing roughly 365:1. Incredible odds! But I'm happy the drill did happen. Even if I'm not at HBO ever again, tonight I will place extra underpants in my bag so I will always be prepared. I hope you do the same.
Alright onto the main topic:
No Pets Allowed Signs
This morning I saw a "No Pets Allowed" sign, which I've seen hundreds of times as I'm sure you have as well. But something happened this morning that made me think of the history of the sign, which I'm sure none of you know. I am lucky enough to have heard the tale and will share it with you now.
When you here "No Pets Allowed" you usually think of a dog, possibly a cat. These are the pets that people carry around with them. But some people have exotic animals as pets, like a cougar or a bear. But these people are jackasses and should die (which they usually do at the hands of their 'pets'). Is that why No Pets Signs started? Maybe it was do to people's allergies? No. It started years and years ago. Back when pets were more than just cats and dogs and bears. Back when your pet was your life...
In the early 1800's, the west was only beginning to be explored. Most of the land a mystery filled with savages and oddly wonders. People wanted not only to explore, but to find a new life for their families. People wanted not only to find a new life, but also get really drunk at bars. So that's what they did. Cowboys would ride their horses to the bar, go in the bar, and drink until the sun came up. The only problem was...they never got off their horse. There weren't any "No Pets Allowed" signs, so cowboys would just ride into the bar and stay on their horses for the stay. They would drink on their horses, get into bar fights on their horses, even drunkenly fondle young ladies on their horses. This seems odd, but that's the way it had always been done, so no one really thought anything of it. The problem was that with all these people on the horses, only 7 or 8 people could fit into a bar. And if youi were unlucky enough to have a horse and entered one of these bars, well you would most likely get trampled to death.
Anyway, one bar owner had enough. "These horses are taking up too much space," he might've proclaimed. So what did he do. He imposed a 2 drink minimum for any horse in his bar. This only created more problems. First, the horses didn't understand the concept of a drink minimum. They are horses and don't understand simple economics. Also, most horses work for food, not money. So they didn't have any money to buy the beer. A few cases have shown that horses bartered some of their food for a beer, but horse food isn't worth much and the owner just stopped trading all together. So after the drink minimum plan failed, the owner was out of ideas. Except for one. The lightbulb went off and he knew what he had to do. He found a rope and hung himself in his bar. He was dead. What else could he do? He was out of money, he wasn't a good bar owner and he also suffered from depression.
So now that he was dead, his son, Buck McSign Jr., took over the bar. Now Buck was only a child of 8, but he knew his shit. He learned from his father how to run a business and also, how to hate horses. He blamed his father's suicide on horses. He hated them with all his passion, He spent his childhood protesting horses and starting Anti-Horse Organizations. But his words fell upon deaf ears. Most people at the time had a horse, so why would they hate them. Even those without horses still thought they were pretty. So Buck decided to use his hatred to drive a successful business. (Which is really the only way to run a successful business) One night Buck went into his playroom, opened up his box of Crayola crayons and wrote down three words.
"No Horses Allowed"
Not only was this the first "No Pets Allowed" Sign. It Was The FIRST SIGN EVER!!! Words on paper, posted in a visible area seems like a simple idea, but this was the first time in history anyone ever did it. Up until this point you just had to know what was where. But now they had signs.
At first it was called a "McSign" after Buck McSign. The people came to the bar that morning and read the McSign. The didn't know what to do. They wanted to drink, but how could they drink not on their horse. So they tried it. They tied up their horses outside and walked into the bar. And it WORKED!!! The people still got drunk. They enjoyed it more as well. They could fight easier, without the fear of falling of their horse. Drinking was easier, as the horse walking usually spilt half their drinks. And fondling girls was no longer an art form. You could just grab any girl that walked by. Life was grand.
The "McSign" was later shortened to "Mc," which soon took on a new meaning. When the Irish came to America in the late 1800's, they carried over thousands of signs with them. So people called them "Mcs" or "Mics" After that it was hard to differentiate whether someone was talking about an Irish man or a McSign, so people just started calling McSigns "Signs."
And that's how the M. Night Shyamalan movie, starring Mel Gibson, got its name.
So next time you see a no pets sign, stop and think for a second cause there's a lot of history behind that.
Next week I'll tell you the history of "No Coloreds Allowed" signs.
Alright onto the main topic:
No Pets Allowed Signs
This morning I saw a "No Pets Allowed" sign, which I've seen hundreds of times as I'm sure you have as well. But something happened this morning that made me think of the history of the sign, which I'm sure none of you know. I am lucky enough to have heard the tale and will share it with you now.
When you here "No Pets Allowed" you usually think of a dog, possibly a cat. These are the pets that people carry around with them. But some people have exotic animals as pets, like a cougar or a bear. But these people are jackasses and should die (which they usually do at the hands of their 'pets'). Is that why No Pets Signs started? Maybe it was do to people's allergies? No. It started years and years ago. Back when pets were more than just cats and dogs and bears. Back when your pet was your life...
In the early 1800's, the west was only beginning to be explored. Most of the land a mystery filled with savages and oddly wonders. People wanted not only to explore, but to find a new life for their families. People wanted not only to find a new life, but also get really drunk at bars. So that's what they did. Cowboys would ride their horses to the bar, go in the bar, and drink until the sun came up. The only problem was...they never got off their horse. There weren't any "No Pets Allowed" signs, so cowboys would just ride into the bar and stay on their horses for the stay. They would drink on their horses, get into bar fights on their horses, even drunkenly fondle young ladies on their horses. This seems odd, but that's the way it had always been done, so no one really thought anything of it. The problem was that with all these people on the horses, only 7 or 8 people could fit into a bar. And if youi were unlucky enough to have a horse and entered one of these bars, well you would most likely get trampled to death.
Anyway, one bar owner had enough. "These horses are taking up too much space," he might've proclaimed. So what did he do. He imposed a 2 drink minimum for any horse in his bar. This only created more problems. First, the horses didn't understand the concept of a drink minimum. They are horses and don't understand simple economics. Also, most horses work for food, not money. So they didn't have any money to buy the beer. A few cases have shown that horses bartered some of their food for a beer, but horse food isn't worth much and the owner just stopped trading all together. So after the drink minimum plan failed, the owner was out of ideas. Except for one. The lightbulb went off and he knew what he had to do. He found a rope and hung himself in his bar. He was dead. What else could he do? He was out of money, he wasn't a good bar owner and he also suffered from depression.
So now that he was dead, his son, Buck McSign Jr., took over the bar. Now Buck was only a child of 8, but he knew his shit. He learned from his father how to run a business and also, how to hate horses. He blamed his father's suicide on horses. He hated them with all his passion, He spent his childhood protesting horses and starting Anti-Horse Organizations. But his words fell upon deaf ears. Most people at the time had a horse, so why would they hate them. Even those without horses still thought they were pretty. So Buck decided to use his hatred to drive a successful business. (Which is really the only way to run a successful business) One night Buck went into his playroom, opened up his box of Crayola crayons and wrote down three words.
"No Horses Allowed"
Not only was this the first "No Pets Allowed" Sign. It Was The FIRST SIGN EVER!!! Words on paper, posted in a visible area seems like a simple idea, but this was the first time in history anyone ever did it. Up until this point you just had to know what was where. But now they had signs.
At first it was called a "McSign" after Buck McSign. The people came to the bar that morning and read the McSign. The didn't know what to do. They wanted to drink, but how could they drink not on their horse. So they tried it. They tied up their horses outside and walked into the bar. And it WORKED!!! The people still got drunk. They enjoyed it more as well. They could fight easier, without the fear of falling of their horse. Drinking was easier, as the horse walking usually spilt half their drinks. And fondling girls was no longer an art form. You could just grab any girl that walked by. Life was grand.
The "McSign" was later shortened to "Mc," which soon took on a new meaning. When the Irish came to America in the late 1800's, they carried over thousands of signs with them. So people called them "Mcs" or "Mics" After that it was hard to differentiate whether someone was talking about an Irish man or a McSign, so people just started calling McSigns "Signs."
And that's how the M. Night Shyamalan movie, starring Mel Gibson, got its name.
So next time you see a no pets sign, stop and think for a second cause there's a lot of history behind that.
Next week I'll tell you the history of "No Coloreds Allowed" signs.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Purpose in Prose
Someone recently asked me, "Hey Dave, I didn't know you have a blog. What's it about?" Actually no one asked me that, but I thought it would be a good start for my newest post. I was recently going through some other blogs for inspiration and maybe steal a few good jokes when I realized, my blogs alittle different from the others I've seen. Most blogs have a consistent theme. It could be about food and recipes or sports or hiking, but there's usually a common theme in every post. My blog is usually just random thoughts that pop into my head as I write. Even now I'm not sure how this will end.
The reason I'm bringing this up is because I feel without some type of structure, the reader (YOU!) doesn't have a connection to my blog. I don't think someone will randomly find this blog and decide to read it. I don't think that many people would enjoy this blog since it really has nothing to do with anything. I feel that I'm losing a good amount of fan base by doing this, but there really isn't enough stuff that I care enough about to write an entire blog about. Yeah, sports are fun, but I'm not going to any Spring Training Camps and coming out with insider info, so my sports knowledge is basically the sum of everything I read during the day. I like videogames, but I'm not as nerdy as I used to be as a kid, so I don't think that I could compete with real hardcore gamer blogs.
Movies and Televsion not only interest me, but that's my job. But if someone wanted to read about movies or television I don't think they would rush over to hear my insights. Not until I get juicy insider info from my new job on Indiana Jones 5.
I also thought maybe I could have a weekly theme. This week is dogs. I like dogs, but I can't do dogs justice. Go to dailypuppy.com or watch Dogs 101.
So my blog will simply stay as it is for now. If you have any suggestions of a new direction I should take, let me know. (That's to the one reader I have; probably just Kirsten)
So today I started researching fantasy football pretty hardcorely. (Hardcorely is now my favorite word) I did 2 mock drafts and both times I ended up with pretty good players. Not only am I positive I won't finish in last place like last year, but I will win and go undefeated.
If anyone other than Kirsten is reading this, you should tell other people to read it as well. I just read a thing on my profile that if I get alot of viewers I can sell ad space. I'd probably need like 100 people a week at least so something like that, but its doable. Let's make it your New Year's Resolution. No. No one ever really does their resolution. Let's make it your purpose in life. Your life will be a complete failure and you'll go to hell unless you get 25 people to check out this blog. Now you might be saying, "Dave you can't tell me what to do" or "I don't believe in hell." Well then go fuck yourself. I believe in hell. I believe that hell exists solely for this blog. The only people in hell are people who don't read this blog and then proceed to tell others about it. So no skin off my back if you don't tell anyone, but they'll be a lot of skin off yours, from the devil, whipping you, with an ax, in your ass. But this is America, so you can choose what to do. Unless you are one of my North Korean followers, in which case, you are being forced to read this, and I thank you for that.
Also, I've been thinking about a sign off. Like "Until next blog" or "Just remember: I can't be wrong if I'm white" or "Please love me dad. I'm only doing this for your attention." I don't know yet. But another thing I'll be thinking about.
The reason I'm bringing this up is because I feel without some type of structure, the reader (YOU!) doesn't have a connection to my blog. I don't think someone will randomly find this blog and decide to read it. I don't think that many people would enjoy this blog since it really has nothing to do with anything. I feel that I'm losing a good amount of fan base by doing this, but there really isn't enough stuff that I care enough about to write an entire blog about. Yeah, sports are fun, but I'm not going to any Spring Training Camps and coming out with insider info, so my sports knowledge is basically the sum of everything I read during the day. I like videogames, but I'm not as nerdy as I used to be as a kid, so I don't think that I could compete with real hardcore gamer blogs.
Movies and Televsion not only interest me, but that's my job. But if someone wanted to read about movies or television I don't think they would rush over to hear my insights. Not until I get juicy insider info from my new job on Indiana Jones 5.
I also thought maybe I could have a weekly theme. This week is dogs. I like dogs, but I can't do dogs justice. Go to dailypuppy.com or watch Dogs 101.
So my blog will simply stay as it is for now. If you have any suggestions of a new direction I should take, let me know. (That's to the one reader I have; probably just Kirsten)
So today I started researching fantasy football pretty hardcorely. (Hardcorely is now my favorite word) I did 2 mock drafts and both times I ended up with pretty good players. Not only am I positive I won't finish in last place like last year, but I will win and go undefeated.
If anyone other than Kirsten is reading this, you should tell other people to read it as well. I just read a thing on my profile that if I get alot of viewers I can sell ad space. I'd probably need like 100 people a week at least so something like that, but its doable. Let's make it your New Year's Resolution. No. No one ever really does their resolution. Let's make it your purpose in life. Your life will be a complete failure and you'll go to hell unless you get 25 people to check out this blog. Now you might be saying, "Dave you can't tell me what to do" or "I don't believe in hell." Well then go fuck yourself. I believe in hell. I believe that hell exists solely for this blog. The only people in hell are people who don't read this blog and then proceed to tell others about it. So no skin off my back if you don't tell anyone, but they'll be a lot of skin off yours, from the devil, whipping you, with an ax, in your ass. But this is America, so you can choose what to do. Unless you are one of my North Korean followers, in which case, you are being forced to read this, and I thank you for that.
Also, I've been thinking about a sign off. Like "Until next blog" or "Just remember: I can't be wrong if I'm white" or "Please love me dad. I'm only doing this for your attention." I don't know yet. But another thing I'll be thinking about.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Reasons to Edit
During my lunch break I wrote a whole thing about ketchup packets. I mostly discussed the pros and cons to having a packet versus having a dipping container. I wrote a lot on the topic, but I felt that my argument didn't really do anything special so I decided to save it for another time in case I can't think of anything to write about. As it is right now, I don't have much else to write about, but I will still hold off on the condiments for another time.
There's a lot of things I COULD write about. My past weekend, my future plans, but let's talk about the present. Let's talk about this moment. Let's start with my attire. Well I'm wearing my usual work pants. I'm wearing black socks. That's a very rare occurrence for me. Probably cause up until Sophia's wedding last month, I only owned 1 black sock. Not 1 pair of black socks, just 1 black sock. What happened to the other one, I don't know. Some people might say, "It's in a better place now," or "It's happier where ever it is." Well that's bull because socks don't have emotions and can't feel. It's a sock that was lost, let's get over it. Anyway, black socks today, as long as my black dress shoes.
The interesting part about my outfit today, in my mind, is what you can't see. No, not my underpants. (I'm wearing Banana Republic boxers) BTW, I know I have said that I don't wear underpants on certain days, mostly during the summer. In shorts it can be much more comfortable. But when my job makes me commute for 3 hours/day, well you need underwear for that. Don't risk it. If the train derails, I want underpants. If I have to stay in the city for some reason, I want underpants. If I lose the underpants I'm wearing, I want back-up underpants. (Actually that's a great idea. From now on I'm bringing a back-up pair of underwear to work. I usually bring my backpack with me anyway and it's just too dangerous not to have underwear. The only decision I have to make is whether or not my back up should be boxer or briefs. I'm thinking briefs because if I'm in need for a back-up pair of underwear, I'm gonna need briefs.)
Alright back on track. So I'm wearing a yellow GAP Polo, which again, isn't that interesting. The interesting part is that I'm wearing a wife-beater underneath my polo. I never do that. This morning when I was getting ready I looked really hard for a clean wife beater only to put a polo on. I know that some people do that, but why. All day I was trying to think of my thought process about why I put on the wife beater. Maybe it's because I had a really dirty weekend, wearing very dirty clothes, and today I just wanted to be wearing extra clean clothes. But that doesn't sound like me. Maybe it's because the rest of my outfit was missing my favorite color: white. White needs to represented people, especially with all this racism going on. Maybe it's because I don't actually have a wife I can beat, so wearing this under shirt is the closest I can come to it. Regardless of my reasons, I do feel comfortable, but not any more so than without it.
I think tomorrow I'm going to try a similar polo without a wife-beater and see how it feels.
Also I'm starting to become uncomfortable in my boxers right now. And I can't do anything about it since I don't have my back-up underwear.
The big spacing in between this paragraph and the last signifies that I took a long break from writing. I was applying to jobs and had to do some actual work, which both are kinda more important than this blog. At least until I get more viewers and can make money off of this.
So I NBC has a sweet 2-year program, but hasn't opened for applications yet. Time Warner/HBO has a bunch of good positions, but every time I hit apply it wouldn't go through. On the 5th try, I did it. So here's hoping already being in the Temp Pool helps me somewhat in the actual job department. I even applied for 2 temp positions, so I feel like I should be on top of those lists. (Though one temp job needed me to speak fluently in Spanish. If I get only one call back, I hope its not for that position.)
This blog really allows me to use ( ) as much as I want. I also feel like that thing that is really preventing me from breaking through on the blog medium is my lack of grammar skills and excessive use of punctuation, specifically when it's not needed or used incorrectly.
Before I close this out, every time I post a blog, there's always room at the bottom to add labels for the post. So if I were to write about dogs, doghouse might be a label. That way if I have another post about doghouses and use doghouse as a label, you could find my two posts together.
Anyway, I bring this up because occasionally I do use the labels, but these are the three examples of what blog spot gives me for labels.
"Labels for this post:
e.g. scooters, vacation, fall"
Now I can't help but think, where can I find the blog that has that label. I can only hope that fall is an action not a season. And that more than one scooter rider fell during their vacation, possibly scarring them for life. I'm just a wishful thinker I guess. But feel free to suggest some labels for future posts, and maybe that'll help me with some writing topics.
There's a lot of things I COULD write about. My past weekend, my future plans, but let's talk about the present. Let's talk about this moment. Let's start with my attire. Well I'm wearing my usual work pants. I'm wearing black socks. That's a very rare occurrence for me. Probably cause up until Sophia's wedding last month, I only owned 1 black sock. Not 1 pair of black socks, just 1 black sock. What happened to the other one, I don't know. Some people might say, "It's in a better place now," or "It's happier where ever it is." Well that's bull because socks don't have emotions and can't feel. It's a sock that was lost, let's get over it. Anyway, black socks today, as long as my black dress shoes.
The interesting part about my outfit today, in my mind, is what you can't see. No, not my underpants. (I'm wearing Banana Republic boxers) BTW, I know I have said that I don't wear underpants on certain days, mostly during the summer. In shorts it can be much more comfortable. But when my job makes me commute for 3 hours/day, well you need underwear for that. Don't risk it. If the train derails, I want underpants. If I have to stay in the city for some reason, I want underpants. If I lose the underpants I'm wearing, I want back-up underpants. (Actually that's a great idea. From now on I'm bringing a back-up pair of underwear to work. I usually bring my backpack with me anyway and it's just too dangerous not to have underwear. The only decision I have to make is whether or not my back up should be boxer or briefs. I'm thinking briefs because if I'm in need for a back-up pair of underwear, I'm gonna need briefs.)
Alright back on track. So I'm wearing a yellow GAP Polo, which again, isn't that interesting. The interesting part is that I'm wearing a wife-beater underneath my polo. I never do that. This morning when I was getting ready I looked really hard for a clean wife beater only to put a polo on. I know that some people do that, but why. All day I was trying to think of my thought process about why I put on the wife beater. Maybe it's because I had a really dirty weekend, wearing very dirty clothes, and today I just wanted to be wearing extra clean clothes. But that doesn't sound like me. Maybe it's because the rest of my outfit was missing my favorite color: white. White needs to represented people, especially with all this racism going on. Maybe it's because I don't actually have a wife I can beat, so wearing this under shirt is the closest I can come to it. Regardless of my reasons, I do feel comfortable, but not any more so than without it.
I think tomorrow I'm going to try a similar polo without a wife-beater and see how it feels.
Also I'm starting to become uncomfortable in my boxers right now. And I can't do anything about it since I don't have my back-up underwear.
The big spacing in between this paragraph and the last signifies that I took a long break from writing. I was applying to jobs and had to do some actual work, which both are kinda more important than this blog. At least until I get more viewers and can make money off of this.
So I NBC has a sweet 2-year program, but hasn't opened for applications yet. Time Warner/HBO has a bunch of good positions, but every time I hit apply it wouldn't go through. On the 5th try, I did it. So here's hoping already being in the Temp Pool helps me somewhat in the actual job department. I even applied for 2 temp positions, so I feel like I should be on top of those lists. (Though one temp job needed me to speak fluently in Spanish. If I get only one call back, I hope its not for that position.)
This blog really allows me to use ( ) as much as I want. I also feel like that thing that is really preventing me from breaking through on the blog medium is my lack of grammar skills and excessive use of punctuation, specifically when it's not needed or used incorrectly.
Before I close this out, every time I post a blog, there's always room at the bottom to add labels for the post. So if I were to write about dogs, doghouse might be a label. That way if I have another post about doghouses and use doghouse as a label, you could find my two posts together.
Anyway, I bring this up because occasionally I do use the labels, but these are the three examples of what blog spot gives me for labels.
"Labels for this post:
e.g. scooters, vacation, fall"
Now I can't help but think, where can I find the blog that has that label. I can only hope that fall is an action not a season. And that more than one scooter rider fell during their vacation, possibly scarring them for life. I'm just a wishful thinker I guess. But feel free to suggest some labels for future posts, and maybe that'll help me with some writing topics.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
The Joys of Sitting
I had my lunch about an hour ago and while eating I started to write about sitting. I'll just type up what I wrote.
"There is a huge difference between sitting down all day AT WORK and sitting down at home or on a break. As I write this I am eating the Grill Station Special of the Day: Philly Cheese Steak. It's pretty good, solid roll, though I wish they didn't use American cheese. I also didn't follow the Golden Rule: When in doubt, ADD Bacon. But its still good. But back to the sitting. I've spent the last two days doing office work at HBO. During this time (and my time here two weeks ago) I've mostly sat. Even if I had work to do, I sit while doing it. The chair I sit in is very comfortable and my posture is usually slumped far down, just the way I like it."
I'm taking a break to apologize for my inconsistent tense usage. I'm all over the place here, present, past, future, but this is how I wrote it.
Continuing: "I even drove into work this morning sitting the entire time. And yet, it's not enough. As I eat (Cheese steak now finished, working on fries) I'm in the same sitting position, but much more comfortable. Maybe it's the food, or peace of mind or something else, I don't know, but breaks makes for better sitting. I'll be doing even more sitting later during my 14 hour drive. I'm pretty sure that I'll be more comfortable as passenger than driver, but how will 'Driving Sitting' compare to 'Work Sitting?' Will 'Passenger Sitting' feel better than 'Break Sitting?' I don't' know and I don't think I want to know. People say, 'It's the journey, not the destination.' Well I think it should be, 'It's not the journey, it's the sit." So take some time and enjoy a good sit.
If I had to rate the best sits, the list would include:
-Beach chair at beach sit
-Water tube in water sit
-Santa's Lap Sit
-Sitting in a very large chair
-Sitting in a very high chair
-Sitting for Thanksgiving Dinner
There's more, but I'm on a time limit so I'll wrap this up. I thought to write about standing, but it ruined my sitting, so that's not happening. Maybe next time I don't find a seat on the train and have to stand, I'll discuss standing, but not while I sit. Now that lunch is over I'm preparing myself to end my 'Break Sit' and transition to "Work Sit."
That was everything I had for lunch. As I transcribed my passage I also thought it might have been good to discuss laying down, but laying down is a much rarer occurrence and doesn't quite create the discussion that sit does.
"There is a huge difference between sitting down all day AT WORK and sitting down at home or on a break. As I write this I am eating the Grill Station Special of the Day: Philly Cheese Steak. It's pretty good, solid roll, though I wish they didn't use American cheese. I also didn't follow the Golden Rule: When in doubt, ADD Bacon. But its still good. But back to the sitting. I've spent the last two days doing office work at HBO. During this time (and my time here two weeks ago) I've mostly sat. Even if I had work to do, I sit while doing it. The chair I sit in is very comfortable and my posture is usually slumped far down, just the way I like it."
I'm taking a break to apologize for my inconsistent tense usage. I'm all over the place here, present, past, future, but this is how I wrote it.
Continuing: "I even drove into work this morning sitting the entire time. And yet, it's not enough. As I eat (Cheese steak now finished, working on fries) I'm in the same sitting position, but much more comfortable. Maybe it's the food, or peace of mind or something else, I don't know, but breaks makes for better sitting. I'll be doing even more sitting later during my 14 hour drive. I'm pretty sure that I'll be more comfortable as passenger than driver, but how will 'Driving Sitting' compare to 'Work Sitting?' Will 'Passenger Sitting' feel better than 'Break Sitting?' I don't' know and I don't think I want to know. People say, 'It's the journey, not the destination.' Well I think it should be, 'It's not the journey, it's the sit." So take some time and enjoy a good sit.
If I had to rate the best sits, the list would include:
-Beach chair at beach sit
-Water tube in water sit
-Santa's Lap Sit
-Sitting in a very large chair
-Sitting in a very high chair
-Sitting for Thanksgiving Dinner
There's more, but I'm on a time limit so I'll wrap this up. I thought to write about standing, but it ruined my sitting, so that's not happening. Maybe next time I don't find a seat on the train and have to stand, I'll discuss standing, but not while I sit. Now that lunch is over I'm preparing myself to end my 'Break Sit' and transition to "Work Sit."
That was everything I had for lunch. As I transcribed my passage I also thought it might have been good to discuss laying down, but laying down is a much rarer occurrence and doesn't quite create the discussion that sit does.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Writing for Davids
I was taught that a good way to get through a writer's block is to just not think about anything and write. I'm going to up the ante. I usually have a low thought process when I write, so I will remove another tool of the writer. His eyes. (I want you to notice how I said "His" eyes and not "Their" or "Her" or even "His/Her" or even the rare "His/Her/Their" because I am a MAN and it's fucking "His" eyes.)
So now I will not think about what I will write about, and I will keep my eyes closed starting NOW. (Feel free to actually skip the italics since none of this turned out interesting in any way.)
I always wanted to go to the doctor and bring them some fruit. It's always hard to remember what day your birthday is when you are following the Mayan calendar. But at least you know when you'll die. 2012. The favorite part of any ice cream dish should always be the middle. Don't forget to feel the truth.
Eyes back on. That was a waste. But I hope you keep on reading the rest of this because I'm going to spice it up with a tool I have yet to use in this blog. I won't tell you just yet what it is, but you'll know when you see it.
I feel that a lot of my blogs aren't hitting my target audience, which is mainly blind women. I assume its because of their ability to not-see. Don't fret, I have just emailed blogspot.com's webmaster and told him I want this appear on the screen in braille as well. So :-: ::: :.. : to you.
If I was blind my favorite punctuation would probably be %. Maybe &, but I guess I just like circles.
If you didn't notice by now, I've used bold for the first time. Using bold isn't really that bold of a thing to do. No one has ever described me as a bold man because of the font I choose to write with. But they probably should. Did the bold scare you? Did you say to yourself, "Wow. Maybe I should start describing Dave to my friends and family as 'bold.'" Notice that when I quoted you, you didn't have any bold. That's because you aren't a bold person. Unlike me. I'm bold. Me-"That banana was probably the best fruit that I've had in a long time." One word: BOLD.
Did you get my joke just then? I italicised Bold. Just some punctuation humor.
If I had to choose between bold or italics I think I'd choose italics. I know what you are thinking, "That was a bold answer." It just seems to me that italics not only is used more, but is funnier to use. Bold hurts to read, it scares you. Italics is romantic, it soothes the eyes. You can combine the two, but be careful. You never know how a person will react.
Well if I don't write anything tomorrow, I won't have anything new until next week. So be bold or get off the porch.
So now I will not think about what I will write about, and I will keep my eyes closed starting NOW. (Feel free to actually skip the italics since none of this turned out interesting in any way.)
I always wanted to go to the doctor and bring them some fruit. It's always hard to remember what day your birthday is when you are following the Mayan calendar. But at least you know when you'll die. 2012. The favorite part of any ice cream dish should always be the middle. Don't forget to feel the truth.
Eyes back on. That was a waste. But I hope you keep on reading the rest of this because I'm going to spice it up with a tool I have yet to use in this blog. I won't tell you just yet what it is, but you'll know when you see it.
I feel that a lot of my blogs aren't hitting my target audience, which is mainly blind women. I assume its because of their ability to not-see. Don't fret, I have just emailed blogspot.com's webmaster and told him I want this appear on the screen in braille as well. So :-: ::: :.. : to you.
If I was blind my favorite punctuation would probably be %. Maybe &, but I guess I just like circles.
If you didn't notice by now, I've used bold for the first time. Using bold isn't really that bold of a thing to do. No one has ever described me as a bold man because of the font I choose to write with. But they probably should. Did the bold scare you? Did you say to yourself, "Wow. Maybe I should start describing Dave to my friends and family as 'bold.'" Notice that when I quoted you, you didn't have any bold. That's because you aren't a bold person. Unlike me. I'm bold. Me-"That banana was probably the best fruit that I've had in a long time." One word: BOLD.
Did you get my joke just then? I italicised Bold. Just some punctuation humor.
If I had to choose between bold or italics I think I'd choose italics. I know what you are thinking, "That was a bold answer." It just seems to me that italics not only is used more, but is funnier to use. Bold hurts to read, it scares you. Italics is romantic, it soothes the eyes. You can combine the two, but be careful. You never know how a person will react.
Well if I don't write anything tomorrow, I won't have anything new until next week. So be bold or get off the porch.
Friday, June 4, 2010
West Coast Sports / Gyming it Up / Sentences
I was going to write about West Coast Sports since the topic recently came up in discussion. That's why it's half of my title for this blog. But I also realize that I don't care enough to write about it. I'll give you a short summary of my beliefs. Due to time zones, the West Coast should get rid of sports, namely football. Waking up at 10am to watch football is ridiculous. Even if I had kids, their mom would be bringing them to soccer at 10am, not me. And even if I did go, that means I miss the entire day of football. Back here, I could watch my kids play soccer and still be home in time for 1:00pm kickoff.
Alright. The second half of my title "Gyming it Up" is named so because I just got home from the gym.
So that takes care of the 'Title' portion of this blog.
I don't know how many of you have blogs or have written for blogs or even read this blog or can even read. Maybe you come to this blog in hopes that I'll put up a picture or a video. Maybe you just like how letters look, especially when there are 5 or 6 letters grouped together really close. Those are called words in case you didn't know. In my personal opinion words work well on their own, but it's really when they are used in "sentences" that they reach their full potential. For example, "Poop." Funny, but really works on one level (Though the level is pretty awesome. If "poop" was a video game level it would probably be the Giant World from Super Mario Bros 3, which is my all time favorite level.)
But "Poop" can get even better when used in a "sentence." For example, "I just pooped my pants." The idea of poop is comical, PLUS, you get pants in the mix. Or... "This poop would go well with some Maraschino Cherries." More informative than funny, but still works. I myself choose not to eat poop or Maraschino Cherries so I wouldn't be that interested in this "sentence" as much as I would the former one.
We could talk more and more about these "sentences" but you really need to experience them yourself to understand them. Next time to talk to someone, instead of grunting, use a "sentence". When you are performing an action, say what you are doing out loud over and over so you can get some practice in. "I'm washing my car. I'm washing my car." People walking by will probably be inspired by your "sentence" practice and they might join in. "Your car looks clean. Your car looks clean."
"Sentences" are almost endless in what you can do with them. So use your "sentences" wisely and keep on practicing.
P.S. Most of what you just read (if you can read) was written with "sentences." So you were learning an you didn't even know it.
P.P.S After writing the word "sentence" so many times, it looks really weird, but that happens a lot with a lot of words. You'll find out once you start practicing.
P.P.P.S. When I first started writing this, the topic of "sentences" was not originally part of the blog. I just changed the title, but realized that I started describing the Title in halves before. I should be thirds, since now their are 3 parts to the title, though this blog is probably 75% "sentences." So I guess West Coast Sports and Gyming It Up could each be halves in their own halves.
Alright. The second half of my title "Gyming it Up" is named so because I just got home from the gym.
So that takes care of the 'Title' portion of this blog.
I don't know how many of you have blogs or have written for blogs or even read this blog or can even read. Maybe you come to this blog in hopes that I'll put up a picture or a video. Maybe you just like how letters look, especially when there are 5 or 6 letters grouped together really close. Those are called words in case you didn't know. In my personal opinion words work well on their own, but it's really when they are used in "sentences" that they reach their full potential. For example, "Poop." Funny, but really works on one level (Though the level is pretty awesome. If "poop" was a video game level it would probably be the Giant World from Super Mario Bros 3, which is my all time favorite level.)
But "Poop" can get even better when used in a "sentence." For example, "I just pooped my pants." The idea of poop is comical, PLUS, you get pants in the mix. Or... "This poop would go well with some Maraschino Cherries." More informative than funny, but still works. I myself choose not to eat poop or Maraschino Cherries so I wouldn't be that interested in this "sentence" as much as I would the former one.
We could talk more and more about these "sentences" but you really need to experience them yourself to understand them. Next time to talk to someone, instead of grunting, use a "sentence". When you are performing an action, say what you are doing out loud over and over so you can get some practice in. "I'm washing my car. I'm washing my car." People walking by will probably be inspired by your "sentence" practice and they might join in. "Your car looks clean. Your car looks clean."
"Sentences" are almost endless in what you can do with them. So use your "sentences" wisely and keep on practicing.
P.S. Most of what you just read (if you can read) was written with "sentences." So you were learning an you didn't even know it.
P.P.S After writing the word "sentence" so many times, it looks really weird, but that happens a lot with a lot of words. You'll find out once you start practicing.
P.P.P.S. When I first started writing this, the topic of "sentences" was not originally part of the blog. I just changed the title, but realized that I started describing the Title in halves before. I should be thirds, since now their are 3 parts to the title, though this blog is probably 75% "sentences." So I guess West Coast Sports and Gyming It Up could each be halves in their own halves.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Memorial Day Weekend Pre-Weekend
Well since I'll be away for the weekend, this might be my last chance to get my message out until Tuesday. I will hopefully think of something to write because as of right now, my mind is blank.
I guess I can talk about this weekend coming up. It's Sophia's Wedding, which I'm extremely excited about, and everyone else seems to be too. I have my baggage at work with me, just need to get to the bus. I hate the fucking bus. Greyhound was the cheapest way to go, so that's what I'm taking. I'm looking forward to Boston itself, and it's always fun to go, but the bus really takes some of the fun out of it. I mean it's gonna be at least 5 hours on the bus each way. So out of a regular weekend that consists of 48 hours, starting at 6pm on Friday-6pm Sunday, only 38 of those hours would I be in Boston. And most of that time I'll be sleeping. Also, I'm not even considering the fact that most of the time I'm not working in the city. So if I'm on Long Island...Alright, this is getting out of hand, I'm sorry.
My point is the bus sucks. The good part about this trip is that I get an extra day for Memorial Day so I'll have more time.
What a waste of my time. This post was weak, but it's these posts that I think I like the most. Because though it may waste my time writing them, I can only hope that people read this so it wastes their time as well. So as long as you were not entertained by this post, I'm happy.
I guess I can talk about this weekend coming up. It's Sophia's Wedding, which I'm extremely excited about, and everyone else seems to be too. I have my baggage at work with me, just need to get to the bus. I hate the fucking bus. Greyhound was the cheapest way to go, so that's what I'm taking. I'm looking forward to Boston itself, and it's always fun to go, but the bus really takes some of the fun out of it. I mean it's gonna be at least 5 hours on the bus each way. So out of a regular weekend that consists of 48 hours, starting at 6pm on Friday-6pm Sunday, only 38 of those hours would I be in Boston. And most of that time I'll be sleeping. Also, I'm not even considering the fact that most of the time I'm not working in the city. So if I'm on Long Island...Alright, this is getting out of hand, I'm sorry.
My point is the bus sucks. The good part about this trip is that I get an extra day for Memorial Day so I'll have more time.
What a waste of my time. This post was weak, but it's these posts that I think I like the most. Because though it may waste my time writing them, I can only hope that people read this so it wastes their time as well. So as long as you were not entertained by this post, I'm happy.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
10th Post Party
Wow. Who would've thought that I would've made it this far. 10 posts. It seems so long ago that I started this thing. I didn't think it would turn out as big as it has. I mean what started as something that I did as a second thought in my room has now become this sensation that I know do at work when I get free time. I would also like to thank my readers. Without you, this blog would still be at zero hits, read by no one. But with your guys help we've reached 23x the expected visit goal. That makes a total of 23 people who have read this blog.
And I have to say, without the support of my 1 follower, Adam, I don't know if I would still be doing this today.
And I have to say, without the support of my 1 follower, Adam, I don't know if I would still be doing this today.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Watching an Animal Poop VERSUS Watching Two Animals Have Sex
After writing Unicorn VS Dragon yesterday, I thought it would be fun to do another one. On my train ride back from the city I thought of my trip to the Bronx Zoo. During this trip, in 6th grade (possibly 5th, but not 2nd) I had the pleasure, no PRIVILAGE..., no pleasure of seeing a full grown Rhino urinate. Urinate is the wrong word. Urinate is what an old man prays to God to do. What this Rhino did was mark his territory. He peed like 30 racehorses, 4 firehoses, and 1 really good shower head, all combined. Even though I was young (not 2nd grade young) and kids have been known to exaggerate, this memory will be remembered exactly as it happened. With a solid distance of 1/2 mile, the Rhino was completely unfazed by this miracle. It was amazing.
So while I thought of this on the train after work, I thought a good challenge would be Poop or Sex. In this case, either pick can be argued, which I will do, and either pick is acceptable to choose, but please remember how great both these things are.
Since I just discussed the pee story, I'll change the topic and move to Animals Having Sex. There are a lot of pros to this. Sex in general is something that Americans choose to hide in the shadows. People talk about sex, but it's always surrounded by some type of taboo or sin. So when someone sees two animals having sex IN PUBLIC, not caring about anything else, it's really funny. The degree of hilariousness is greatly affected by the animal that is having sex, but I can't think of any one animal I wouldn't enjoy watching trying to procreate. What really works well is when animals of two different species try to do some sexual act. This is commonly found with household pets, but Greek historians have found records of such indecent acts dating back to 30 B.C. In fact the term "at it like rabbits" comes from the fact that rabbits do indeed have sex and a lot.
Let's move past history and move to my favorite part of animals having sex. It is so great, the pinnacle of hilarity, but some teenagers may not even consider it sex. I'm talking about the legenardy animal sixty nine. Dogs do this a lot, and it never gets old. The idea that these animals want to spice up their sex life, get a little kinkier, could only be made better if they started dressing up. Which is why you should always keep your eyes out on Halloween.
I could probably keep going, but I feel that a lot of what makes animals having sex funny is almost indescribable. You just know that its funny, so you laugh.
So let's on to the other half of this. Animals pooping. This is another category that is inately funny. Unlike sex, poop is on a different level. Discussing sex between people is usually about love or hate or drama, rarely does it involve comedy. But poop on the other hand is always funny. Have you ever made your friends look at your poop and not laughed. Even the mention of someone pooping is funny. I spend most drunken nights telling girls that they have pooped. Even most of my life lessons involve assjuice. So poop is funny.
Well for some reason when you take poop and a stupid animal, it's even funnier. The bigger the animal the funnier it is. And what I think makes it really funny is the fact they don't care. A horse could be in the middle of the Kentucky Derby and just start shitting. A elephant at the circus. He's got to go when he goes. And one of the best parts is when the animal finds the poop amusing. Which usually leads to the animal sniffing/eating it, or playing with it. The most common animal associated with playing with poop is a monkey. Picture a monkey. Now picture that monkey holding poop. Now picture him sniffing it. Now picture another monkey pushing poop monkey. That poop is getting thrown. Hilarity ensues.
It's hard for me to really pick a clear winner but I do thing that animals pooping is not only more universal, but also has more types of funny. Animals having sex is always animals having sex. Animals with poop could lead to alot of different things. So I'm gonna go with the pooping for now.
Just an FYI for everyone. It's O.K. for animals to have sex in public. For the most part, no one is going to get upset about it. But you are not an animal, you are a Human. Remember that and keep your sex life private.
So while I thought of this on the train after work, I thought a good challenge would be Poop or Sex. In this case, either pick can be argued, which I will do, and either pick is acceptable to choose, but please remember how great both these things are.
Since I just discussed the pee story, I'll change the topic and move to Animals Having Sex. There are a lot of pros to this. Sex in general is something that Americans choose to hide in the shadows. People talk about sex, but it's always surrounded by some type of taboo or sin. So when someone sees two animals having sex IN PUBLIC, not caring about anything else, it's really funny. The degree of hilariousness is greatly affected by the animal that is having sex, but I can't think of any one animal I wouldn't enjoy watching trying to procreate. What really works well is when animals of two different species try to do some sexual act. This is commonly found with household pets, but Greek historians have found records of such indecent acts dating back to 30 B.C. In fact the term "at it like rabbits" comes from the fact that rabbits do indeed have sex and a lot.
Let's move past history and move to my favorite part of animals having sex. It is so great, the pinnacle of hilarity, but some teenagers may not even consider it sex. I'm talking about the legenardy animal sixty nine. Dogs do this a lot, and it never gets old. The idea that these animals want to spice up their sex life, get a little kinkier, could only be made better if they started dressing up. Which is why you should always keep your eyes out on Halloween.
I could probably keep going, but I feel that a lot of what makes animals having sex funny is almost indescribable. You just know that its funny, so you laugh.
So let's on to the other half of this. Animals pooping. This is another category that is inately funny. Unlike sex, poop is on a different level. Discussing sex between people is usually about love or hate or drama, rarely does it involve comedy. But poop on the other hand is always funny. Have you ever made your friends look at your poop and not laughed. Even the mention of someone pooping is funny. I spend most drunken nights telling girls that they have pooped. Even most of my life lessons involve assjuice. So poop is funny.
Well for some reason when you take poop and a stupid animal, it's even funnier. The bigger the animal the funnier it is. And what I think makes it really funny is the fact they don't care. A horse could be in the middle of the Kentucky Derby and just start shitting. A elephant at the circus. He's got to go when he goes. And one of the best parts is when the animal finds the poop amusing. Which usually leads to the animal sniffing/eating it, or playing with it. The most common animal associated with playing with poop is a monkey. Picture a monkey. Now picture that monkey holding poop. Now picture him sniffing it. Now picture another monkey pushing poop monkey. That poop is getting thrown. Hilarity ensues.
It's hard for me to really pick a clear winner but I do thing that animals pooping is not only more universal, but also has more types of funny. Animals having sex is always animals having sex. Animals with poop could lead to alot of different things. So I'm gonna go with the pooping for now.
Just an FYI for everyone. It's O.K. for animals to have sex in public. For the most part, no one is going to get upset about it. But you are not an animal, you are a Human. Remember that and keep your sex life private.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Unicorn VS. Dragon
Well I'm back to work, this time at HBO. I'm basically doing exactly what I did while I interned here, but getting more money, and I'd like to think, better professional experience. So here I am with a decent break in my day and decided to write down the mental debate I've been having for the past 30 minutes.
Unicorn VS. Dragon
I know what you are thinking. "Dave these are two mythical creatures that don't exist." That may be true, but we're just here to have some fun guys.
Alright, so the question I'm asking two really two fold. 1st, which would you rather have exist and Deuce, which would win in a fight. Now before you go saying dragon for both, I'm going to defend Unicorn on both parts, and even if you still haven't changed your mind by the end, I at least hope that my run-on sentences have made you at least think, nay, dream about a grander more idyllic life.
Alright, let's talk about which would win in a fight. I'm going to discuss this first because my argument here will greatly affect which should exist. This may seem stupid, but it wouldn't be a close fight. Yeah, Unicorns are always portrayed as girly and gay, but we don't know much about them. Think of a movie with a Unicorn in it. I got one, Anchorman. One of the best comedies ever made. But that's about it. These well-known beasts have remained to stay out of media for quite some time. My point is basically, there's not much we know about them, so they could be things we don't think of. For example, can a unicorn fly? Yes. I've always seen them in the sky, but I'm pretty sure for it to fly it needs the power of a rainbow to give it that ability. Dragons can always fly.
In general, horses are fast. A mythical horse has to be able to run at supersonic speeds. Why else would someone just make up this horse. Alright so a really fast flying horse. A unicorn also has a huge advantage over a dragon. Leadership. If a unicorn came up to me and asked me to fight beside him, hovering in mid air with rainbows all around him, I think I'd say yes. I'd just be impressed.
Now if a dragon started breathing fire and landed in front of me, I'd either start running or shooting him before he said a word. It would be very frightening.
So the question now becomes Dragon vs. Unicorn + Human Army. I don't even think I should limit it to Human Army. If a unicorn could convince a human to join it's cause, it is pretty obvious that it could convince the entire Animal Kingdom to defend it's honor.
Finally, last but not least, the horn. The reason why unicorns are killed are not for their delicious meat, but their precious horn. Made out of Mithril, a unicorns horn can pierce anything, except for another unicorn horn. Last time two unicorn horns touched, the universe was created.
Yeah, the dragon can fly to, and breathe fire, but the huge disadvantage it has is its popularity. There are dozens and dozens of stories and books and movies about dragons. It's basically like a coach having unlimited sports tape on a player and the other team having no tape. Which team is gonna win? Unicorn.
The second part of the question which would you rather have is much harder in my opinion. Dragons would cause much destruction, possibly destroying the world, killing all humans, but Dragons destruction is purely physical. We have the ability to fight back.
The unicorn is much more treacherous. The have the ability to raise an army of all animals and some humans. Mind control is not a road I want to travel on, especially because I don't have 4-wheel drive. A unicorn could convince you to fight with him, but you are fighting for the wrong team. You are a slave to the unicorns horn. Horny will no longer be a term used to describe one's sexual want, but a term to describe a fellow human being who has turned against his kind and become a zombie infested with the hatred of the Unicorn. "The Puerto Ricans have become really horny since The Unicorn took over South America."
So I think I'd actually pick the dragon. We have enough technology and weapons to take down a dragon. We cannot stop a unicorn. Which is exactly why in the battle of Unicorn VS. Dragon, Unicorn wins.
Lost finale was on last night and instead of getting all nerdy about it, I'll simply say I really enjoyed it and thought it ended perfectly.
Unicorn VS. Dragon
I know what you are thinking. "Dave these are two mythical creatures that don't exist." That may be true, but we're just here to have some fun guys.
Alright, so the question I'm asking two really two fold. 1st, which would you rather have exist and Deuce, which would win in a fight. Now before you go saying dragon for both, I'm going to defend Unicorn on both parts, and even if you still haven't changed your mind by the end, I at least hope that my run-on sentences have made you at least think, nay, dream about a grander more idyllic life.
Alright, let's talk about which would win in a fight. I'm going to discuss this first because my argument here will greatly affect which should exist. This may seem stupid, but it wouldn't be a close fight. Yeah, Unicorns are always portrayed as girly and gay, but we don't know much about them. Think of a movie with a Unicorn in it. I got one, Anchorman. One of the best comedies ever made. But that's about it. These well-known beasts have remained to stay out of media for quite some time. My point is basically, there's not much we know about them, so they could be things we don't think of. For example, can a unicorn fly? Yes. I've always seen them in the sky, but I'm pretty sure for it to fly it needs the power of a rainbow to give it that ability. Dragons can always fly.
In general, horses are fast. A mythical horse has to be able to run at supersonic speeds. Why else would someone just make up this horse. Alright so a really fast flying horse. A unicorn also has a huge advantage over a dragon. Leadership. If a unicorn came up to me and asked me to fight beside him, hovering in mid air with rainbows all around him, I think I'd say yes. I'd just be impressed.
Now if a dragon started breathing fire and landed in front of me, I'd either start running or shooting him before he said a word. It would be very frightening.
So the question now becomes Dragon vs. Unicorn + Human Army. I don't even think I should limit it to Human Army. If a unicorn could convince a human to join it's cause, it is pretty obvious that it could convince the entire Animal Kingdom to defend it's honor.
Finally, last but not least, the horn. The reason why unicorns are killed are not for their delicious meat, but their precious horn. Made out of Mithril, a unicorns horn can pierce anything, except for another unicorn horn. Last time two unicorn horns touched, the universe was created.
Yeah, the dragon can fly to, and breathe fire, but the huge disadvantage it has is its popularity. There are dozens and dozens of stories and books and movies about dragons. It's basically like a coach having unlimited sports tape on a player and the other team having no tape. Which team is gonna win? Unicorn.
The second part of the question which would you rather have is much harder in my opinion. Dragons would cause much destruction, possibly destroying the world, killing all humans, but Dragons destruction is purely physical. We have the ability to fight back.
The unicorn is much more treacherous. The have the ability to raise an army of all animals and some humans. Mind control is not a road I want to travel on, especially because I don't have 4-wheel drive. A unicorn could convince you to fight with him, but you are fighting for the wrong team. You are a slave to the unicorns horn. Horny will no longer be a term used to describe one's sexual want, but a term to describe a fellow human being who has turned against his kind and become a zombie infested with the hatred of the Unicorn. "The Puerto Ricans have become really horny since The Unicorn took over South America."
So I think I'd actually pick the dragon. We have enough technology and weapons to take down a dragon. We cannot stop a unicorn. Which is exactly why in the battle of Unicorn VS. Dragon, Unicorn wins.
Lost finale was on last night and instead of getting all nerdy about it, I'll simply say I really enjoyed it and thought it ended perfectly.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Just Another Old Fashioned Love Post
So here I am, once again writing in my inebriated state. I was going to fall asleep in my car tonight. No, I know my limits. I wouldn't drive home drunk. And to be honest, I didn't want to leave my car there. But even though I had a pillow and blanket, my friends decided that they wouldn't leave until they shook my car for at least (gueestimating?) 48 minutes.
Now I'm on the verge of sleeping, so I'll try to finish up this quickly. I don't usually reread my posts or use them for reminders but I want my next post to be about karaoke, so I hope that i do indeed read this.
Now I'm on the verge of sleeping, so I'll try to finish up this quickly. I don't usually reread my posts or use them for reminders but I want my next post to be about karaoke, so I hope that i do indeed read this.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
After Thoughts
So I was in the mood to keep writing but I thought it would be good to break up my posts to limit boredom of my readers.
After Lost tonight, which happened to not only be great, but also said in that it's the next to last episode ever, I decided to get ready for the gym. Steiger said he was too tired so I drank a couple of drinks and packed a few lips. Now I'm wide awake and will continue my pointless dribble.
Well to be honest, I'm not wide awake. To be even more honest, this isn't pointless dribble. If all goes according to plan, this will lead me to a book deal worth roughly 2.1 million and will prove that the van was a bad idea.
Now I will talk about my cat, BUSTER. This stupid little guy always gets me. He spends most of his nights awake either in the backyard doing god knows what, dealing drugs, doing drugs, raping other cats, fighting other cats, raping dogs...who knows. Then after those drug induced nights, he spends a majority of the day sleeping on my futon. When I try to wrestle with him, as I would a dog or even a woman, he scratches me. When I try to throw him against the wall, as I would a dog or even a woman, he scratches me. When I try to have my way with him, as I would a dog or even a woman, he scratches me. I still love him for some reason, probably because I know, one day he'll grow old and he won't be able to scratch me when I try to molest him.
I deleted a section about my hatred for actors because I found it to be boring, so just appreciate the cat section.
After Lost tonight, which happened to not only be great, but also said in that it's the next to last episode ever, I decided to get ready for the gym. Steiger said he was too tired so I drank a couple of drinks and packed a few lips. Now I'm wide awake and will continue my pointless dribble.
Well to be honest, I'm not wide awake. To be even more honest, this isn't pointless dribble. If all goes according to plan, this will lead me to a book deal worth roughly 2.1 million and will prove that the van was a bad idea.
Now I will talk about my cat, BUSTER. This stupid little guy always gets me. He spends most of his nights awake either in the backyard doing god knows what, dealing drugs, doing drugs, raping other cats, fighting other cats, raping dogs...who knows. Then after those drug induced nights, he spends a majority of the day sleeping on my futon. When I try to wrestle with him, as I would a dog or even a woman, he scratches me. When I try to throw him against the wall, as I would a dog or even a woman, he scratches me. When I try to have my way with him, as I would a dog or even a woman, he scratches me. I still love him for some reason, probably because I know, one day he'll grow old and he won't be able to scratch me when I try to molest him.
I deleted a section about my hatred for actors because I found it to be boring, so just appreciate the cat section.
Life Plans and Green Man
So here I am at 2:18am on a Tuesday. I've spent the last week and a half unemployed. If you count the 60 hour week I put into "Greetings From Bushwick" that I wasn't paid for, then that's almost a month of unemployment. I remember as a kid planning my life around a life of doing nothing, and now I find myself wanting to work.
I remember being in 6th grade and telling my entire extended family what I wanted to do with my life. Here is that plan. (Keep in mind at this time I was probably the smartest kid in my school with limitless potential.)
My plan was to drop out of school at the legal age of 16. By dropping out of school I would have every hour of my life free. With that time I would get a job at McDonalds, Wendy's, or any place that would pay me at least 8/hr. The way I planned it, I would have basically no expenses and just save my money while living at home. At the time I had friends, but I didn't drink or really party so I had nothing really to buy. So if you do the math: 2 years at 40/hrs per week, at 8/hr=320/week, which is roughly 15,000 a year. The plan was 2 years because then I would purchase a van to live in. The van wouldn't cost much out of the 30,000 grand I saved up. I would spend another 4-6 years living in said van and still working at said job. Now lets say I didn't get a raise and continued at 8/hr. That would give me 60-90 grand saved up after my 4-6 years. With all that time I would've researched stocks and such and used all my savings in the stock market. I would then spend the rest of my life living off my investments.
Reread that if you must because my uncles and aunts still ask me how this plan is going. And even though it showed no motivation or even a brain to accomplish, it's almost brilliant that I came up with it at the age of 12.
It was brilliant. I sometimes think maybe I should've gone that route, but I think it's best I didn't. Here's my current financial situation.
After spending my money in California, I now live with my parents still looking for work. But let's get more specific.
I went to Boston University where I had a great time. There were a few ups and downs, but I had some really great ups. Freshman year I met some great people, Sophomore year I made even more friends and developed a drinking habit that would define who I am today. Junior year I got into a pretty good feel of things, solidifying my friendships and really getting into my first relationship with a girl. I had a good work study job throughout college and summer after junior year I worked at HBO. Said relationship ended at the beginning of Senior year, which was really my fault and doing and has alot of negative feedback from not only the girl (everyone knows who, but out of sake of privacy will not name) but also my friends. Even looking back it was probably really stupid I did it, even now I'm confused why, but at the time I thought it was a good idea. Anyway, Senior year started out well. Made even more friends, took my drinking to an even higher level and did my proudest work at a film student; the Green Man documentary. I was the Green Man before any of these other people were and I thought I really did it justice. Beyond Green Man I tried to have a relationship with another girl which didn't really work out and had some other experiences with other girls, but nothing stuck. Second semester senior year I basically didn't give a crap. After sleeping through my 1st time registration, I was left with no classes. I tried at Spanish but almost failed, I actually failed my Film Theory class and was left to take my first ever summer class, "Hollywood Blockbusters." That class was exactly how I wanted to end my college experience. By the end of the summer I saved 4-5 grand and planned on moving to Cali with some good friends.
So I moved to Oakland which was a great idea at the time. I probably should've planned ahead more, as me and Kirsten soon found out. I had to move back home after not finding a job. So that basically brings me back to today. Living home for the past 6 months, have been ok, but I've been borderline poor. And the drinking habit that defined me has almost defined my poorness.
So if I followed my 6th grade plans I probably would've still been in that van, but with no friends no will for life, no nothing. With my current life, I'm achieving the film career I want, with friends, but no money. I've made mistakes in my current plan, but I probably would've resorted to hardcore drugs or porn living in that van. So I'm happy with my life, for what it is and what it will hopefully be.
This is a longer post, and more posts will probably be about my past life, these situations will probably be more elaborated on, but I think it's a good post. So I will finish this with a mindful point.
Your 6th grade dreams of living in a van next to McDonalds may seem great (I can only assume everyone else had similar dreams) but keep on living your life. You have years ahead of you...until you are 25, then give up and find that van and move into it.
Next post coming immediatly after this.
I remember being in 6th grade and telling my entire extended family what I wanted to do with my life. Here is that plan. (Keep in mind at this time I was probably the smartest kid in my school with limitless potential.)
My plan was to drop out of school at the legal age of 16. By dropping out of school I would have every hour of my life free. With that time I would get a job at McDonalds, Wendy's, or any place that would pay me at least 8/hr. The way I planned it, I would have basically no expenses and just save my money while living at home. At the time I had friends, but I didn't drink or really party so I had nothing really to buy. So if you do the math: 2 years at 40/hrs per week, at 8/hr=320/week, which is roughly 15,000 a year. The plan was 2 years because then I would purchase a van to live in. The van wouldn't cost much out of the 30,000 grand I saved up. I would spend another 4-6 years living in said van and still working at said job. Now lets say I didn't get a raise and continued at 8/hr. That would give me 60-90 grand saved up after my 4-6 years. With all that time I would've researched stocks and such and used all my savings in the stock market. I would then spend the rest of my life living off my investments.
Reread that if you must because my uncles and aunts still ask me how this plan is going. And even though it showed no motivation or even a brain to accomplish, it's almost brilliant that I came up with it at the age of 12.
It was brilliant. I sometimes think maybe I should've gone that route, but I think it's best I didn't. Here's my current financial situation.
After spending my money in California, I now live with my parents still looking for work. But let's get more specific.
I went to Boston University where I had a great time. There were a few ups and downs, but I had some really great ups. Freshman year I met some great people, Sophomore year I made even more friends and developed a drinking habit that would define who I am today. Junior year I got into a pretty good feel of things, solidifying my friendships and really getting into my first relationship with a girl. I had a good work study job throughout college and summer after junior year I worked at HBO. Said relationship ended at the beginning of Senior year, which was really my fault and doing and has alot of negative feedback from not only the girl (everyone knows who, but out of sake of privacy will not name) but also my friends. Even looking back it was probably really stupid I did it, even now I'm confused why, but at the time I thought it was a good idea. Anyway, Senior year started out well. Made even more friends, took my drinking to an even higher level and did my proudest work at a film student; the Green Man documentary. I was the Green Man before any of these other people were and I thought I really did it justice. Beyond Green Man I tried to have a relationship with another girl which didn't really work out and had some other experiences with other girls, but nothing stuck. Second semester senior year I basically didn't give a crap. After sleeping through my 1st time registration, I was left with no classes. I tried at Spanish but almost failed, I actually failed my Film Theory class and was left to take my first ever summer class, "Hollywood Blockbusters." That class was exactly how I wanted to end my college experience. By the end of the summer I saved 4-5 grand and planned on moving to Cali with some good friends.
So I moved to Oakland which was a great idea at the time. I probably should've planned ahead more, as me and Kirsten soon found out. I had to move back home after not finding a job. So that basically brings me back to today. Living home for the past 6 months, have been ok, but I've been borderline poor. And the drinking habit that defined me has almost defined my poorness.
So if I followed my 6th grade plans I probably would've still been in that van, but with no friends no will for life, no nothing. With my current life, I'm achieving the film career I want, with friends, but no money. I've made mistakes in my current plan, but I probably would've resorted to hardcore drugs or porn living in that van. So I'm happy with my life, for what it is and what it will hopefully be.
This is a longer post, and more posts will probably be about my past life, these situations will probably be more elaborated on, but I think it's a good post. So I will finish this with a mindful point.
Your 6th grade dreams of living in a van next to McDonalds may seem great (I can only assume everyone else had similar dreams) but keep on living your life. You have years ahead of you...until you are 25, then give up and find that van and move into it.
Next post coming immediatly after this.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Softball Sunday
So I'm hanging out at Duke's house with him and his bro. While they play NHL I figured I'd write something. I feel like writing without purpose might be boring to everyone else, but is a good habit to get into. So as of write know I have no idea what I'm going to write about.
I guess I'll start with my most recent trip to the gym. After Steiger completed a full workout week he suggested that we do legs. LEGS. If you know me, then you probably know how great my legs look. I didn't really think I needed to work them out, but I did. Also, one thing a gym can't do is make you grow hair. Yeah you can get surgery and use lasers to remove hair, or if you are Keith Hernandez or Elliot Smith use products to give you the illusion to grow hair on your head, but leg hair is God's will. You are either blessed or cursed. And God has blessed me with the gift of leg hair. As a guy you may be reading this and saying, I have leg hair, in fact I don't even tan, I just grow hair. As a girl you may be saying, I shave my legs what is this guy, no man, talking about leg hair for. Well assholes, you should look at my legs. My legs are a forest, nor or they a barren desert, they have the perfect amount of leg hair. Just enough to make them manly, yet lacking the density of a Sasquatch. My legs are ALMOST perfect. I remember in junior high school running and a girl complementing my legs as I ran. Never Forget. Since then I have taken great pride in my legs.
Everyone should take great pride in something about them. Let's be real people, looks are important. Let's be even more real, my legs are fantastic. If you are reading this, take a moment and please yourself to the visual of my legs. You can picture me streching or running or even walking up stairs. Have you climaxed yet? No. Then let's seal the deal.
We have now entered the Tie portion of this blog. Listen, I don't dress up often, I wouldn't even say that I have good hygiene. But when it comes to dress shirts and ties, I know my shit. Shut your mouth. Stop talking shit and believe it. Or if you are black Be-leed that. I'm fucking awesome at dressing up. Here's a list of my shirts and ties. I'm currently wearing a light blue shirt with a a orange/pink/silver Alfani Tie. Not good enough. Back at home I have a black shirt that goes well with my silver tie. No. I also have a sweet ass green Express shirt that works great with my Orange and Silver Express Tie. I also have great blue tie that works good with my red shirt.
The reason I bring this all up is so if you couldn't get off to the picture, you can now get off to the picture of me wearing any of those shirts and ties with my God delicious legs. You could even use my tie in a sexual manner as long as you use them with my legs. Like tie up my legs with my tie then proceed to stroke your genitals on my thighs.
I'll end this with a religious point. There has to be a God. I mean, evolution makes sense, but my legs were definitely a part of God's Intelligent Design. When Jesus was riding his Dinosaurs back in the day, he didn't give a shit about the sins of man. He sacrificed himself knowing and hoping that His Father would create these legs.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Marathon Speech
Here's the speech I previously mentioned. I didn't make any changes. This is what I dicated to Adam and here's what was what he wrote down. If you aren't inspired by this or you think it's stupid, this blog isn't for you.
You guys sit around and complain about how crappy class is and how shitty your life is, but when you get the opportunity to go out and do something fun, you pass it up. You probably think this is so stupid, but you know what, stupid is good. Stupid is what in 10 years from now you’ll remember. You won't tell your friends about the day you stayed inside on a rainy day; you'll tell your friends about the time you went out in the pouring rain just to watch some people run a race. And most of them might not even understand it, but you'll know that on this day you stood proud to be a drunken fool in the pouring rain just to cheer on your fellow man, just to be a part of something so much bigger than yourself, but at the same time almost indescribably smaller than one can imagine. This day is yours. If you pass it up, you won't even notice, but if you decide that you will grasp what is in front of you, that you will take advantage of it, the reward you will receive will be better than money, better than value. It will be a bond of friendship, an unbreakable connection that you will forever share with those you spent the day with. You may say this is stupid – and it may be so – but stupid is what matters. It is what you don't want to do that drives you, it is the passion you'll remember not the reason. It is the drive you want and not the answer. If you sit around waiting for your dream to come true, you sit for no reason. You must stand up and take a hold of that dream before it slips through your fingers. You can live life right now. In this moment, we are all a part of this marathon; we are all victorious; we are all CHAMPIONS!
-Dave
You guys sit around and complain about how crappy class is and how shitty your life is, but when you get the opportunity to go out and do something fun, you pass it up. You probably think this is so stupid, but you know what, stupid is good. Stupid is what in 10 years from now you’ll remember. You won't tell your friends about the day you stayed inside on a rainy day; you'll tell your friends about the time you went out in the pouring rain just to watch some people run a race. And most of them might not even understand it, but you'll know that on this day you stood proud to be a drunken fool in the pouring rain just to cheer on your fellow man, just to be a part of something so much bigger than yourself, but at the same time almost indescribably smaller than one can imagine. This day is yours. If you pass it up, you won't even notice, but if you decide that you will grasp what is in front of you, that you will take advantage of it, the reward you will receive will be better than money, better than value. It will be a bond of friendship, an unbreakable connection that you will forever share with those you spent the day with. You may say this is stupid – and it may be so – but stupid is what matters. It is what you don't want to do that drives you, it is the passion you'll remember not the reason. It is the drive you want and not the answer. If you sit around waiting for your dream to come true, you sit for no reason. You must stand up and take a hold of that dream before it slips through your fingers. You can live life right now. In this moment, we are all a part of this marathon; we are all victorious; we are all CHAMPIONS!
-Dave
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
First Drunk Blog 80's Rock
I'm pretty proud of myself. No, not for being drunk, which I am. I'm proud of the fact that in my drunken state of mind I'm willing to write. I could talk about my night of karaoke; which was pretty great. Instead of my usual "Power of Love," and random 80's song, I dueted with Eric on "Don't Go Breaking My Heart." But this isn't really my point.
In fact I don't have a point. I'm watching "Modern Warfare" Community episode which happens to be, in my opinion, the best 30 minutes of TV since... well since...O.K. well it's good. My lack of references is due to the fact that I'm in toxicated.
Since it's still early in this blog, and in my mind most of the people who read this arne't the imaginary elfs that live in my brain, there's a lot of information about me that people don't know.
I'll dedicate the rest of this blog to a small fact that people don't know which is...well...everyone know's my love for dogs so that's out...and everyone know's my love for 80's shitty rock music, but I really want to write about it...so here I go.
As I pack a lip and spit it into the solo cup full of sunflower seeds, I really want to listen to my favorite music. Even when I was at karaoke, I wanted to sing Styx or REO Speedwago or Huey Lewis or even Village People. (Note: Village People may have been 70's but that doesn't make Macho Man any less timeless).
So now that I'm finally on my point of 80's Rock. Yeah I could talk about Poison or Ratt, but that's not the music that I listen to. The music I listen to may be shitty, but I'd rather listen to "Keep On Loving You" than La Bouche any day of the week. I always tell people that I live for myself. Not in a selfish way, not in a stubborn way, but in a way that I enjoy my life. I like Elliot Smith, I like Bright Eyes, but when I want to just listen to music I'll put on my 80's Rock music, no matter now bad it is. Why? Probably cause I don't care. Yeah there are hipsters and rappers and assholes that like their music, but I like music that I think is not only fun to listen too, but music that doesn't make me slash my wrist.
Oh. I didn't realize you went to a small private party with 20 other people where the lead singer of Goo Goo Dolls gave a handjob to everyone in the audience. Oh. I'm sorry I didn't go to the concert of the band that no one knows, but you're really cool for going too. Oh, and that band's gonna be really popular in about 4 months and you'll stop listening too. I don't know why or when music became a religion where people became so seperative and secular. (Secular maybe wrong word). Anyway my point is, listen to the music that you like, not the music that makes you feel better than other people. As you read this you may say, well Backstreet Boys make shitty music. Well that shitty music is really fun to listen to.
I'm not trying to convince people or preach my point of view, I'm just saying "Mr. Roboto" is fun to listen to no matter who you are. So listen to the fucking song and enjoy it.
Alright I'm happy I wrote this and tomorrow I'll probably wake up and say, "Man that was alot of stupid shit I wrote last night." But fuck it. Go to karaoke and sing a stupid song. Enjoy that group of girls singins "Jesse's Girl" cause no matter how stupid or slutty those girls are, they are having a much happy and better life than you if you can't enjoy it.
In conclusion, sit down and listen to "Don't Stop Believing" or "Roll With The Changes" and just appreciate how you lose yourself in those songs. Appreciate the fact that if you like your life or not, you can just listen to some stupid song and think it's funny. But even in this drunken message I know no one will really understand my point of view. You can like you music, your life, but just respect the stupid.
My next post will defineatly include my "Stupid Speech" and I hope that people appreciate it.
In fact I don't have a point. I'm watching "Modern Warfare" Community episode which happens to be, in my opinion, the best 30 minutes of TV since... well since...O.K. well it's good. My lack of references is due to the fact that I'm in toxicated.
Since it's still early in this blog, and in my mind most of the people who read this arne't the imaginary elfs that live in my brain, there's a lot of information about me that people don't know.
I'll dedicate the rest of this blog to a small fact that people don't know which is...well...everyone know's my love for dogs so that's out...and everyone know's my love for 80's shitty rock music, but I really want to write about it...so here I go.
As I pack a lip and spit it into the solo cup full of sunflower seeds, I really want to listen to my favorite music. Even when I was at karaoke, I wanted to sing Styx or REO Speedwago or Huey Lewis or even Village People. (Note: Village People may have been 70's but that doesn't make Macho Man any less timeless).
So now that I'm finally on my point of 80's Rock. Yeah I could talk about Poison or Ratt, but that's not the music that I listen to. The music I listen to may be shitty, but I'd rather listen to "Keep On Loving You" than La Bouche any day of the week. I always tell people that I live for myself. Not in a selfish way, not in a stubborn way, but in a way that I enjoy my life. I like Elliot Smith, I like Bright Eyes, but when I want to just listen to music I'll put on my 80's Rock music, no matter now bad it is. Why? Probably cause I don't care. Yeah there are hipsters and rappers and assholes that like their music, but I like music that I think is not only fun to listen too, but music that doesn't make me slash my wrist.
Oh. I didn't realize you went to a small private party with 20 other people where the lead singer of Goo Goo Dolls gave a handjob to everyone in the audience. Oh. I'm sorry I didn't go to the concert of the band that no one knows, but you're really cool for going too. Oh, and that band's gonna be really popular in about 4 months and you'll stop listening too. I don't know why or when music became a religion where people became so seperative and secular. (Secular maybe wrong word). Anyway my point is, listen to the music that you like, not the music that makes you feel better than other people. As you read this you may say, well Backstreet Boys make shitty music. Well that shitty music is really fun to listen to.
I'm not trying to convince people or preach my point of view, I'm just saying "Mr. Roboto" is fun to listen to no matter who you are. So listen to the fucking song and enjoy it.
Alright I'm happy I wrote this and tomorrow I'll probably wake up and say, "Man that was alot of stupid shit I wrote last night." But fuck it. Go to karaoke and sing a stupid song. Enjoy that group of girls singins "Jesse's Girl" cause no matter how stupid or slutty those girls are, they are having a much happy and better life than you if you can't enjoy it.
In conclusion, sit down and listen to "Don't Stop Believing" or "Roll With The Changes" and just appreciate how you lose yourself in those songs. Appreciate the fact that if you like your life or not, you can just listen to some stupid song and think it's funny. But even in this drunken message I know no one will really understand my point of view. You can like you music, your life, but just respect the stupid.
My next post will defineatly include my "Stupid Speech" and I hope that people appreciate it.
First Post and Hopefully Not Last - Marmaduke
This blog has been made first and foremost for me. It's tool and purpose is to get me to start writing. Since I procrastinate in almost every part of my life, I figured this might help. The second purpose is for me to get my thoughts down and possibly use them in the future. And I guess if anyone chooses to read this and enjoys it, that's a plus as well.
I didn't know what I should write about in my first blog. If anyone is reading this, you probably know who I am, so there's no point in discussing my addiction to porn or my love of Celine Dion; I'll omit obvious person details about my life in this blog.
Instead of writing about something I know about or care about I will instead discuss something that I have almost no knowledge of other than what I just saw on TV.
MARMADUKE.
Without referencing Wikipedia or Googling anything, I'm pretty sure that the new movie Marmaduke is based off of a comic strip. I've heard about it through my life, but I always thought that Marmaduke was a Platypus not a dog. I think that because as a word, Marmaduke seems like it could completely define Platypus. "What's a platypus?" "Well. It's hard to describe. I guess it's kinda Marmadukey.
Alright, so now that we've got the dog part down, I also didn't think he was a great dane. Nor did I think he could talk. I don't know his role in the actual comic strip, but I assume since it's self titled he must have something to say. I'm willing to accept both of these as fine and acceptable.
The ads don't give much away of the plot other than Marmaduke and George Lopez Cat are moving to California and at some point meet up with other dogs to dance to Kesha's Tik Tok. When the commercial was over I wanted more. Not more of plot, or poor CGI, or George Lopez, or even Marmaduke. I wanted to watch those dogs dancing! (Note: The dogs are CGI, at least that's what it seems to be.) Who doesn't want to watch dogs dance for minutes on end. If you go to youtube and search for (animal) dancing, I bet it's got over a million hits.
Assuming that's true and accepting the FACT that people love dancing dogs (real or fake), not only do I believe that Marmaduke has the single best movie advertising campaign since The Dark Knight, but I predict this movie will surpass Avatar in both Domestic and International Gross. I suggest going to www.hsx.com and buying lots of stock in Marmaduke.
Well I hope that at least someone might have been interested in Marmaduke and hopefully my next blogs I'll put more thought into this before I actually start writing.
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