XMass

Best.
Christmas.
Ever.

Like, no. You don't understand.
Burger King
Gorillaz album
Stuff and things

Maybe this is really what Christmas is. Fuck the presents. Christmas is good luck. Christmas is winning.
No. Christmas is a good excuse to play on your favourite team. Winning is just the result of that.

Death Of A Party

So I went to a party. I was welcome there. People there liked me. It was a good time I guess.

But I was not wanted. I mean, like I said, I was liked. People were glad that I was there. People were glad that I used my big voice and lead Get Low. I made friends. I made up with Lucas who I had stolen a girl from. I made friends with Taran who seems to be a bit of a hipster (versus me being art-rock indie) in a good way.

But I did not feel at all wanted. Nobody there wanted me. I was not the object of desire. And that made me think. I'm not wanted and therefore didn't have as much fun as I would have if I had been. If I have more fun where I am desired, shouldn't I try to go places where I am desired or try to be desired at the places where I go?

But then, where am I wanted? I can't think of anywhere. I'm not even sure I can think of anyone. Maybe one, but that is a big maybe.

Is This What It Feels Like?

Spongier

A sponge. Takes up a pretty good volume but doesn't weight much. Then you put it in water and it absorbs it. You take it out of the water then - it is maybe a little larger in volume, but it is much heavier. It now has a real weight, but not a bad weight. It is not that the sponge's boots are heavy, but that it is no longer empty. And it will stay all nice and full for a while until it dries up naturally, from evaporation - and when it dries up from evaporation, there is lots of time to dunk it back in the water so that it will be saturated again.
But on the other hand, you can pretty easily wring it out.

Actions, Words, Volume, etc.

Image issues.
Fun.

So recently I did some things that may appear to be acts of a carnal matter. Not true. I helped (and befriended ?) a drunk girl.
In a closet.
While we were in there people had gathered around.
And when we came out I got high-fives.

But we didn't actually fool around. We talked about how much fun Vancouver was and how her ex is terrible and probably how we aren't allowed to fool around because I used to date her bestfriend.
Later she kind of collapses on me on the hostess' bed and we have another deep talk about dying alone and about how she used to not like me, but I'm an all right guy now - but I dated her best friend so I am off limits. Annie comes back with water, and Alex slowly begins the process of sobering up.

This is where I should mention that I kind of thought that sober-Alex mildly disliked me.

Annie and I had a school talk and kind of a girls (well, Bree) talk.

So time passes, taquitos but I don't care. Reagan wanders over and we do a name game. Reagan, Annie, Dan, Lucy. Lucy? No way you are a Lucy. No, really?  Yeah man she's Lucy. Okay, okay, so Lucy and--
Reagan, Annie, Fred, Lucy. Okay, got it. Annie, Fred, Lucy. Lucy and I sneak off and don't fool around until we decide we need to save Annie. Then there is a part that I forget but eventually we end up watching Batman. Annie sits on the couch next to 13-year-old Nicole and Alex sits on the floor. Reegan comes over and calls names again - Annie, Jakob, Natalie (I think). His girlfriend (I think?) calls him away. Nicole gets up to get eats or just to leave because. I steal her seat. She comes back and I offer it back to her but she doesn't take it. Reegan stumbles back over. He might have been trying to get someone's phone number or something. He almost stepped on Nicole. I offered her her seat back. She was reluctant because she had been left to believe I was not a very good guy. She was almost stepped on again, so she took it and I sat on the floor in front of her (between her and Reagan because I could tell she was feeling a little threatened) and next to Alex.

Did I mention that it was her birthday the next day? Oh, well, it was her birthday the next day. Happy birthday if you are reading this.

Eventually Reegan and his girlfriend went home. Alex asked if she was allowed to sleep on my lap. Yeah, sure. So she did. She eventually got cold so I gave her my jacket. For a moment, I thought to myself: 'This is really an okay way for the evening to go.' Space opened up on the couch so we relocated and got Alex a real blanket. Annie and I had a bit of a girls/boys talk and an our relationship (we could be a couple again, but ehn) talk.

Soon enough, time to go came around. I walked Alex and Annie to where they needed to be and phoned my father.

I am leaving out some things probably. Some that I am forgetting, some that I don't want to remember. Any way about it, that is the story of how I am a good dude even though it doesn't look that way all the time. I suppose it is also the story of how I don't get laid - or a chapter therein maybe.

I am stupid and an idiot

Christ.
I can't fucking do this any more. I just get pulled around by everybody and I am never good enough.
Been lied to, been put down, been dragged around.
-------------------

I am not good enough for her to leave her boyfriend.
I am not good enough for casual sex.
I am not good enough.
I am not good.

The next step in the progression is obvious, but I try not to think that far ahead.
-----------
Fuck.

I have been feeling a bit of rap recently. MF DOOM mostly. I am expanding my horizons.

DOOM is really and truly beyond my grasp. I like what he is doing, but I do not understand it. His music just appeals to me.

I needed to blog this month. I have blogged other places, but I won't repost here - that wouldn't be fair.

Don't Quit Your Day Job

Lets say you work at a job you hate.
For shitty pay.
Don't ask how you got it, but you work there.
You'd quit right?
Okay, also you a terrible at it. You work at a job you hate that doesn't pay well that you are bad at.
You'll get fired eventually but say, 50-60 years eventually.
So there's your two options: quit or get fired.

You'd quit right? It makes sense. Shitty job, shitty pay, shitty work quality.

I hope you are following the analogy. Maybe look at what this is tagged under and you will understand. (Here's a hint, it is not 'work')

Priorities (I Am Overstimulated)

You said that you have priorities.
Yeah. Exactly.

A friend of my died recently. Really recently. Just today recently. And I mean, uh, I'm not surprized - that sounds terrible - it is not the end that I am surprized by, but the means. He had a seizure in his sleep is what I'm told. And then that isn't even it either. All these people that didn't like him have made their facebooks "RIP we will miss you" - and I think, you might miss him now but you won't next week. And then I realize that this is how it is going to go; when I die everyone will miss me for about three weeks and then it's back to life as usual.

And I am shaken. And you call me and act like a good friend would. And it seems as though the wrong thing to say comes so easily to you. And I start to get quiet. And you have to go to bed because you have to get up early to do whatever with your boyfriend. You have priorities. You also have no idea how funny I find this.

Death is just the end, isn't it? And, yeah, that sure is something. And I'm sorry if I brought my own issues into the middle of this - but that is how the night has gone.

A good dude died. That fucking sucks. It makes the rest of my fucking problems seem like shit in comparison.

Well that was a bad idea.

Say What You Want To Say

Christ, I have been stuck on how I am not good enough. It's just stuck on me. And I think that if I mentioned it I would be told that no of course I am good enough and asked where I would get an idea like that.
Words.
Words.
Words.
That is exactly the problem. I will be told forever that I am good enough, but it will never be demonstrated.
The other fun thing was "if I were single, I would totally sleep with you" - as though that helps. That is how I am not good enough. I am not good enough to get what I want. I am not good enough to be wanted.
And I know what you're thinking - that is a sick thing to want, to be the paramour. That isn't what I want. Not explicitly anyway, though it may be a direct consequence.
I don't mean to sound like it's about one girl. It isn't. I know it sounds like it, but will you grant me a little poetic license? Look at it as though it is some metaphor or something like that. 

I Wear The Scars To Show My Shame

Is it unhealthy to not be satisfied with myself?
This conclusion is not one that I reached of my own accord - I got here by being told it over and over. If  I had been good enough or even just 'enough' some of the time, I probably wouldn't have this kind of thinking.
But at the same time, it is what motivates me. It is why I am trying to be better. If I had always been good enough, I wouldn't need to become better. Perhaps that loses the cause in the effect though.

I guess I just need to get used to losing again.

I have been having a bad day week month year life.

The Last Third.

So I saw Toy Story 3 - went with Ashley (so if you had any doubts about the end of the previous arc...), I would assume her boyfriend was not exactly pleased, but is at least tolerant. I will give credit where credit is due, he puts up with far more than I would. I promised that I would not put the moves on her, I promise that I consider mostly upheld.

Toy Story 3 was amazing. One of the best movies I have ever seen. I shan't spoil it for anyone reading (hah!), but I recommend it to anyone that likes good things. The 3D was subtle enough that I honestly didn't notice it at times, I just thought that everything looked really nice. Perhaps this means that it just wasn't very strong or perhaps it means that I am 3D proof. Oh, except in the short that preceded the film - it was definitely very 3D while also being very 2D.
One thing's for sure, Pixar knows how to write a film. Everything about the plot was perfect. All of the characters were done perfectly.
Okay, if I can let out two little spoilers; Mr. Tortilla-head and Spanish Buzz might have been the two funniest things I have seen in a movie ever.

Oh, you would rather hear about how I mostly upheld my promise?
Well, how many different ways can a man mostly uphold a promise like that? Mostly isn't even entirely right, I completely held up my promise - I did not put the moves on her. Why is it worthy of making it a subplot of my blog? If it ends up being foreshadowing, then it will have been foreshadowing - if not, then it was a red herring (smell it a mile off!).


In unrelated news, I also went to a concert with Annie recently. It was a good show and was not nearly was weird as it could have been. The band played 'It's Been A While Since I Was Your Man' and I laughed. So, uh, yeah - just figured I should give a shout out to Annie, because if I have any readers, it is probably her.
If you just stumbled in here from google looking for something to read, that's cool too and all - but I haven't gone to a concert with you recently. On the other hand, if you got here by looking for it: firstly, I must apologize for doing this whole blog thing, and secondly, gee that is pretty cool of you to come here on purpose, thanks for visiting.

All People That Generalize Are Terrible

So what I have found out is that people that don't like punk or punk derivatives are the single worst kind of people.

Brooke did not like Taqwacore, a movie about punk and brown people. Prior to today, I thought this had more to do with the brown people and the Islam. Nope. Today he said that The White Stripes sucked.

Needless to say, his opinions have gone from zero validity to negative validity.

It's Easier If You Do It The Hard Way 2

So today my mother tasked me with hosing off the patio chairs.
They are plastic and like to get dirty when it rains, so I have to hose them off.

At first there were no hoses. My plan was to just plug the pressure washer into the tap and run an extension cord from the outlet. Then use the pressure washer to clean the chairs. My father said that no, it would be a better idea to get the hose out of the garage. Fine, whatever. As I venture to the garage there is a mess of hose sitting on it's little pole where the hoses go. I just grab the topmost hose, since they are different shades of green. It it somehow tied to all of the other hoses.
My father meanders into the garage, he tells me to just grab the one hose. I am trying to. Well open the large garage door and sort them out there.
I am not going to have any more of this hose bullshit, so I just grab all the damned hoses and haul them all out onto the lawn. My plan is simply to plug one female hose end into the tap and then use where ever the water comes out to clean the chairs. Well why would I do that? I'd have to untangle the hoses anyway. I wasn't planning on that, I was just going to put them back how I found them. Apparently I didn't find them tangled and all in a pile.
How the hell would he know? He was not there when I first grabbed the hoses. They were all tangled. Even if he had been the one to put them there, that would mean that he last observed them when he put them away - in winter. Even though the chances aren't too great, some sort of hose tangling hoodlum could have broken in and tangled them.
Mom rushed in and diffused the situation.

Nonsensical Extrapolation

My mother did not finish her dinner tonight.

She had a few ribs left.

She expected a kiss on the cheek in exchange for the ribs. I did not want the ribs - she still expected a kiss.

From a business standpoint, that is just terrible.

Go into a store, see some shoes or whatever for $20. If you buy the shoes, they will charge you $20, if you do no buy the shoes, you should not expect to be charged $20. However, if the store decides to charge you $20 anyway what does that mean?
- 'What the hell, they want $20 for no shoes'?
- 'I am not coming back here'
- 'So those shoes are actually worth nothing?'

I realize that my mother is not a shoe store.

The she tried to guilt trip me 'Is this how I raised you?'. This was hilariously cliche (read: hilarious) so I thought she was joking. Nope.

Basically there are a lot of things about this whole thing that make me angry.
Can't wait to move out eventually.

The Madness, The Music

So I just remembered another stupid thing that was once said to me.

"Music in the 60s and 70s was good because they knew they didn't need to play fast to sound good."

This is completely untrue. At the time, jazz guys would have been the only one playing fast and they would have sounded bitchin' doing it. It just wasn't until the first Van Halen record that people realized that playing fast can sound really cool. I explained this and got the response of 'Well, you know what I mean'.

Goddamn. Herp derp, I'd know what you meant if you expressed it properly.

For what it's worth, he meant "Music in the 60s and 70s was good because they understood phrasing because they didn't know how to play fast yet." I don't exactly agree, but I suppose there is an argument to be made there.

Dan The Destroyer

Today I was asked what I was doing.
"What does it look like?" I responded. I was very clearly standing on one foot.
"What are you, stupid? You're standing on one foot! But what are you doing?"
"Well what does it look like I'm doing?"
"It looks like you're standing on one foot! How do you do that?". At this point I had determined that this guy was a shithead - well, to my credit, I had determined that he was a shithead before he even said anything, this just removed all doubt.
"It's pretty simple, you just lift one leg up off the ground." He deserved me being a smartass to him, but I think it was lost on him.
"Woah, really?! What are you, an idiot?". As sarcastic as ever; but he had slipped up. Now I would put him into the ground.
"I'm the stupid one, but you didn't know what standing on one foot was?" I gave him the appropriate look.
"Of course I knew what standing on one foot was! [ed. note: Then why did you ask?!] Why are you doing that?" Part of me thinks that this kid wanted a fight. It would have been simple and quick. I would have kicked his knee inward pretty much straight away. I probably would then have stood on one foot and watched him writhe on the ground. If I felt he really deserved it (or I really wanted to go to jail) I would have then jumped on his head and splashed him all over the concrete.
"Why does anyone do anything?"
His (dumbass) friends all looked at me quizzically and shut up.

Later on the bus one of his fat friends asked me why I had mace in my pocket.
"Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it." I replied to him.
"But why would you need it, just fight the guy?" His jowels jiggled.
"What if it's a bear?" I was not going to go at this guy seriously. If it came down to it, I could just ask him why he's fat.
"Why bring it to school then?" He thinks he's got me.
"How many times have you seen a bear in the school that didn't attack anyone?" He looked at me quizzically. He was either native or asian, I could ask that too.
Here he said something incoherent. Perhaps he was eating.
"How many times have you seen someone get attacked when there is bear in the school?" I asked him again. He looked confused and hungry. He turned away and I had won.

What a Tweest

Nevermind what I said about the View the women on Rachel Ray.

Well, except for all of those negative things. I mean, they are wrong most of the time, and they generally are sexist against men, but what I said about the Tiger Woods thing might have been a little far. I'm not saying he should apologize to the mistresses - not necessarily, anyway. I'm just saying that maybe everyone should be apologizing to everyone else.

On the other hand, what I have learned so far is that it is best if the guilty parties agree not to say anything and not to do it again yet. Basically if everyone tried to keep their mouths shut, everything would blow over and the world would be normal again.

Ain't No Senator's Son

Hey look! An opportunity!
Great!
Oh man I should definitely look at this opportunity. Maybe I'll give it a try.
Yes, mister opportunity minister, I would like to sign up for that opportunity. Oh, I'll have to give up any opportunities that may come for a while? Well I don't think there will be many of those, sure, sign me up.
Name on the dotted line. Doot-de-doo I can't wait for my opportunity how exciting.
What's that sign that you're putting up? 'Even better opportunities 1/2 off ' !? Sign me up for that then. Oh, because I signed up for the other one? But -- but I want this one now.
P-p-p-please?
I - no, I understand; that was a very tough contract. I - uh - yeah, I know. I shouldn't have signed up for that if there was something I wanted more.

-------------------------------------------------------------

I read another blog that express the same thing better. I suppose there is a greater irony at work. Perhaps I will paste it here for you so you can understand better. It isn't that this other blogger is on about the same event as I am, but I believe we agree on the concepts. Perhaps that is the greater irony.

'Why is society so set on the system that everyone knows what they want? I know it's not SUCH a big deal if like, you take 50 minutes to decide on your pizza toppings, and it's not so bad anymore if you don't even know what you want to do for the rest of your life. Here I'm talking about relationships. not just boyfriend-girlfriend relationships, but all kinds. I don't know what I want from a relationship! Some days I'd love for you to listen to me and sympathize, others I want you to tell me to straighten up and stop being such a pussy, and still others I want you to stay the fuck away from me. this sounds totally preposterous I bet, that I would expect someone to deal with a person like that, but why? Why do we have to know what we want?'

Colours changed because I have a red background. Like I said, we aren't talking about the same thing - or at least I would think not, because it would be rather odd if we were - but perhaps in certain organisms, different stimuli can produce similar responses. Perhaps that 'certain' should be a 'similar' but that is neither here nor there.

Fortunate Son

It ain't me. 

I'm not lucky. Nothing ever comes my way. No free rides and then when I try, I get nothing. 

Do you want me to spoil the ending of almost any story?

Dan loses. No matter what.

Do you want to know the moral of all those stories?

Don't be Dan.

Bitching About Bitches Bitching About Bitches

Women on Rachel Ray are bitching about Tiger Woods.
They're all offended about his apology.

One: I don't blame them. It was a shitty apology.

Two: Now they're going on about how he disregarded the women he cheated with and how he made promises to them about marrying them and spending forever with them and a bunch of other moves that are older than the book itself.
"Blah blah (I missed some because they talk so fucking fast) people are going to think they're naive..." that's because they fucking are. The dude is Tiger fucking Woods -- his being married is not a huge fucking secret so you can't even claim ignorance. It's not like they didn't know he was married. They knew he was married and didn't try to stop him. I'm not saying that it's their fault and not his -- it is his fault -- I'm just saying that it takes two to tango.

It's Easier If You Do it The Hard Way

Today I was tasked with vacuuming the car.
It is a simple task: plug the vacuum in, turn it on, suck up dirt, turn it off, unplug it, put it away.

My father was tasked with cleaning the windows this means that he was in the car at the time.

I had planned to plug the vacuum into the car using this little converter box we have in the car. Sure it'd drain the battery, but I wouldn't have to waste time scouring the house for an extension cord -- besides, we can just run the engine, thats how it works. It's much easier this way, because the extension cords are always somewhere that is not where I am and the converter box is always in one place and I won't have to fuddle around as much with running out of cord or getting it caught on the tires.

Nope. "It'd be easier for you to get an extension cord".

Search the house. Garage? No. Living room? No. Bedrooms? No. Basement? No. Garage again? No. Unplug the Christmas lights, it's February anyway.

Finally get to vacuum the car forty minutes later. I would have been done already.

Emergency Band Names

Heavy Metal
W (Tungsten)
Iridium
Osmium (Only with Ozzy Osbourne or an Ozzy tribute band)

Hip Hop / Rap
K Schrute (Geddit, he grows beets!)
Radish
Amaranth

Conan is Ending

Conan ending is the timeframe.
My family angering me is the subject.

Mom says that if dry grad was less dry, she wouldn't let me go because I'm not old enough to drink. If you ask me, these events shouldn't be related. I don't drink. My parents know that I don't drink. Why the fuck should it matter if I go somewhere that other people will be drinking?

Don't say it's a health thing. My mom proceeded to call her friend and light a cigarette. Gee, isn't that second hand smoke tasty?

She also shouts on the phone. She then complains that the TV is too loud. If she would stop shouting or go in the other room to shout, I would not have to turn the TV up loud.

Apologies To The Innocent Hereby Tarnished (Unfinished & Published)

Late in the night the ghosts come out.
They dance, they sing
They scream, they shout.

Taunting me is the man I wasn't
In front of me is the man I am
I don't know which is scarier

\

"I'm a lot like you
So please
Hello
I'm here
I'm waiting"

The present speaks for the past.

\

Can't get pink
Go to Pink
Satisfied with a laser beam
Not me.

\

Something something something
something some thing
something ________

\

PART V. SCHOOL OF THE MELANCHOLY

More or less, they said,
Than what meets the eye?
Yes was the correct answer.

Are you okay, they asked
Yes was the correct answer
Yes is usually the correct answer
Even if it's a lie

What's the reason?
Sillier questions
Sillier answers
Yes, it is.


Go to class your friends hate you
Or rather, my friends do.
They hate every woman.

\

I was never blessed with the power of
Foresight - I was not cursed with it either.
And so, when I came upon this thing, it
Seemed like it would be a good idea