Sunday, October 21, 2007

the most ununsed thing in the world

I kick ass at using this thing. Seriously.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

What can I tell you...

Everyone break out the champagne bottles because the greatest thing since Hadrian's wall and the Great Wall of China just got approved. That's right, an incomplete (there are four separate sections), expensive (over 1.2 billion dollars that was kind of reserved for it) and necessary (kick those poor people to the curb bitch) wall has just been approved by El Presidente. Meanwhile, the real El Presidente in Mexico is running to the UN to tattletale on us. Don't worry, we will still try to half ass the building process, just to please those 4 or 5 idiot army-wannabe-civilians who risk their lives everyday protecting our borders, armed only with radios, binoculars and jungle army fatigues, that were probably bought on sale at Walmart. Hey, they've worked hard to keep out those poor and hungry Mexican assholes. Good thing Jesus amended the New Testament (Bush didn't go with his gut on this one) with this holy statement, "Thou shalt henceforth divert funding from divine prospects and build a large four part incomplete fence if thy neighboring countrymen, poor, hungry and destitute, sell oranges beside thy thoroughfares." World, watch out.

Monday, October 17, 2005

Supermarkets Suck

What am I going to eat? You open the refrigerator like your emulating some sort of obsessive compulsive ritual. You know what's in there and your just hoping some of that good food you once had was just hiding behind something the last time you checked. Just check one more time to satisfy. You shut the door slowly, better check the pantry again. And then you find it, some old super easy food to prepare. Oh shit, I'm out of milk. You always underestimate milk's uses. Macaroni and cheese still needs real milk to prepare it. Though you remember noticing the powdered packets in the grocery store, you didn't care to spend precious money to try them. Macaroni is only a once in a while treat. Not like the "treatness" of snickers or swedish fish, but a treat that takes no amount of effort to prepare and tastes like cheesed noodles.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Forums and Band

So I went on www.foofighters.com to see what people were saying about their new album on their forums. A couple people were shown to not like it, so I decided to post my own thoughts. Here is a link. Needless to say, it was pointless. It's kind of inclined me to believe that the people who haven't experienced much music and just latch on to one band, like say, the Foo Fighters, hang around the forums a lot. One dude even went as far as to say the album would probably be rated the best of the decade! Ughhh....

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Saddam and his personal life...

Chug gave me this link about Saddam and his personal life behind bars. Apparently, he still claims that he is the president and chows down American snack foods like Kurds. I know I would be savoring every last morsal that was given to me in that situation. He even rates U.S. presidents. What will Democrats say about his seemingly liberal biases? Will we hear some crappy radical right wing conservative AM radio jokes about how Saddam would gladly give a hand job to the American blue Jackasses. I know at least Michael Savage can't let me down on that. By the way, his book, Liberalism is a Mental Disorder, shows why Michael Savage hates having fun. If you don't know what I'm talking about, just take a gander at his weird half smile. It's like, you are trying to sell a book, and the only picture you can find to put on the cover that you like is a weird half smile that makes you look like somone is making fun of your huge shoulder pads, and your only half amused. Probably makes cute Right Wingers wish they weren't Republican so they would not feel morally wrong about having sex. Um, word. Anyhoo.

These guards also talk about how Saddam tries to give them advice. Wouldn't you cherish the advice of a person who escaped the world's strongest country at least once? Or would you pity his flap jacking because he dared to put his balls on the US chop block by talking smack? Regardless, I liked the part about the WMDs. Can you believe him? At least on this point, I think you can. Interesting, these political heads of state are.

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Kit's Story Part Two

The elevator was silent as it carried its passengers upwards. No one spoke because of some sort of unspoken pact of silence while traveling straight up or down. Kit glanced at his watch. He felt too tired and spent to think about ways of making organizations look snazzy. Whatever had made Kit search meticulously in college for a well paying and secure job, had somehow been forgotten. Whatever happened to the prospect of huge parties on the weekends? Kit had always liked to think that when he got more money, he would be freer to have fun. That is why one amasses money to live and be happy isn’t it? There was no time to spend it though, unless he was buying expensive lunches or trendy pens that he only used to add signatures to important documents. Shits demanded nothing less anyway.

The stainless steel doors split Kit’s reflection to expose the white walls of the cubicle grid he spent most of his adult life. As if a starter pistol had fired, Kit and a few others departed quickly from the elevator and moved in different directions, muttering greetings to fellow co-workers.

Gently, Kit put his briefcase on its die on top of his desk. Prying the leather straps free proved difficult today. Kit grimaced at the eccentricities of his own taste in material possessions. Sure, the brown shiny leather briefcase looked professional and could have been utilized by a well dressed English professor, but it wasn’t very practical.

Pulling documents out of his briefcase, Kit glanced over at Jerry’s stall. Like usual, Jerry sat looking regal in his white shirt and red tie. His hair was perfectly parted and combed, with a shiny gel gleam. The only thing that didn’t fit the image was Jerry’s eyes. They were dark red and the bags under his eyes attested for their color. Jerry took a mug off his shelf and filled it with some black coffee from his thermos that he brought every morning. The thermos never lasted Jerry till lunch.

“This coffee might as well be fucking decaf,” Jerry snorted while glaring at the contents of his mug.

“Maybe you’ve built up an immunity to it Jerry,” Kit said blandly.

“That would be the fucking day Kit.”

Jerry changed his bloodshot gaze towards Kit.

“I just found out that Sally’s pregnant.”

Kit looked up from his computer monitor which was happily displaying a login screen. He heard himself speak, but it felt like it was all scripted. Frankly, he didn’t know what to say to a man who looked dejected at the prospect of spawning his progeny. Jerry, a father. They should have sterilized him after he stole his first lunch money from the class nerd.

Kit stood up, he was done consoling Jerry. What did Jerry expect at this age? Did he think his wife was going to stay as immature as Jerry? It didn’t feel like Jerry’s wife knew her husband at all anyway. If she did, Jerry wouldn’t be worried about a kid on the way, let alone be married.

Left was as good a direction as any. He could pretend he needed a cone of water, a very unlikely receptacle for any type of liquid.

“Kit.”

Kit looked up from the cold mountain spring water in his white paper cone to see the lovely face of Lita Burns.

“Hey Lita”

“Sits is waiting for you in his office.”

Even before the word “office” was spoken, Lita had heal clicked her way right past Kit, her mind already wandering to more important matters.

Kit crushed his empty cone, tossed it at the small rectangular trash can and grimaced as the newly made paper ball banked of the front rim and onto the floor.

The secretary picked up the grey phone next to her desk as Kit walked by her. Kit didn’t knock. Shits must have just put his phone down as he was already attentive when Kit stepped in his office. He raised his right hand, palm open, towards one of the two small chairs in front of his huge mahogany desk. If Ebenezer Scrooge were alive in modern society, he would own the huge antique sofa-like desk chair that loomed over Mr. Shit’s average sized torso.

Mr. Shits began to pick up the grey phone while offering tea and biscuits, but Kit politely refused, leaving Mr. Shits to awkwardly put the phone back in its resting place.

“I have an offer for you Mr. Wayland, and I’m quite sure that I’ll not have to wait long for an answer.”

Mr. Shits smiled showing his white crooked front teeth. He already seemed bored with the conversation.

“Some important matters have recently come to my attention. I know that I do not have to explain them to you, which is part of the reason the board and I have chosen you for this future position. It seems that there will be an opening for you in the near future in a position that will give you great control of the company. Your work and vigor has made the company proud Mr. Wayland, and it is time to repay you, handsomely.”

Kit held his breath, keeping his eyes latched to the wandering flutters of Mr. Shit’s ocular cavities.

“What say you Mr. Wayland?” The oak chair angled backwards as Shits shifted his weight and crossed his legs.

After a couple of years doing dirty work for the company and being well versed in impromptu speeches, Kit was surprised to hear only the words, “Sure, I’d like that,” before he was rushed out of the office by Shit’s secretary who had come out of nowhere.

The day lurched by without any disturbances. It was almost fluid, as if time had given Kit’s spatial reality a break. It wasn’t long before Kit took a last glance at the clock on his computer screen and proceeded to save his work before logging off.

Sleep cam easily this night. Maybe his promotion would be enough to change the daily grind that Kit learned to rely on. This was life, stability in everything. This was what he built his whole life for, learning manners, work ethics and finally, education. College taught him the most. All those extracurricular class such as biology, chemistry and even the history of the bubonic plague were aimed at granting Kit an all around education. It wasn’t that college needed to weed out the learners from the non-learners, it was finding out if you could work hard enough to get what you wanted. Sure, colleges wanted more money, and forcing bullshit classes upon every student was a clever way to achieve that and more, but Kit knew what these prerequisites were trying to achieve. Are you strong enough to excel in work you absolutely hate doing? It wasn’t a guideline, but Kit could feel the message in this advisor, professors, class mates and job recruiters.

“…is a wonderful day outside. We got only partly cloudy skies and a little rainfall to cool us off this evening…”

Kit opened his eyes, trying not to think about the crackling tones of his alarm clock radio.

“…so get your sunglasses on and be ready to sweat with your fellow New Yorkers while traveling to your place of destination. From all of us at…”

Kit plunged finger down on the off button and forced his feet to the floor. He smudged his face up with his hands, trying to fight off the biological crust that forms on human faces while they slumbered. Something was wrong. It was too bright in his room and his lights were off. Kit was late.

Jumping up over his bed, Kit turned on the shower and hastily made preparations for his trek to work.

He was sweating profusely as he entered the elevator. Would he get reprimanded for being late on the first day of his promotion? Was it his first day at that? His body wouldn’t stop jittering as the elevator made its way up, more silently then he had ever known.

His footsteps seemed louder then usual as he caught site of his white cubicle. Kit stopped and stared. His cubicle was empty.

“Hey Kit!”

Kit didn’t turn or acknowledge Jerry’s presence.

“Congratulations man! How you pulled co-CEO is beyond my belief. Don’t forget us scum in the cubicles now.”

Kit walked. He knew where he was going. Something had seemed wrong in Shits voice when he had mentioned a promotion. But was it that bad that he might need it more? Did he need it more?

The door he opened said, “Kit Wayland”. A young woman was typing away at a computer. She was beautiful and looked young enough to still be in high school. Her blonde hair was elegantly sculpted and streaked with red strands of hair. She looked up at Kit and smiled.

“I’m Lucy Mandarb, your secretary. I hope you are having a good morning. There are some messages on your desk.” Lucy picked up a small notepad. “Also, a Lita Burns has called several times to confirm a dinner date with you.”

Kit raised his eyebrows at the thought of Lita wanting a dinner date. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

“Thank you Lucy. It was nice meeting you.”

Kit stopped pushing the handle of his office door and took a deep breath. His parents would be proud of him. How he held the winning lottery ticket was still unknown to him. A pleasant surprise nonetheless. In his office, he looked out his window to see a busy street jam packed with cars. Sleek black luxury vehicles and SUVs dotted the yellow mass of taxis. A traffic jam looked like a slow moving painting from his window.

“Mr. Wayland, it is good to see you have finally found your new office. I have made preparations to brief you on certain information for you new position. You must know that we cannot feasibly change our company name to include our new status, but I’m sure you understand.”

People lined the sidewalks. It was like looking at the turning of a kaleidoscope. A pulsing organism of people.

“I’m pleased to have you by my side Mr. Wayland. We have watched you closely and believe you will represent the company well. Well, Mr. Wayland?”

Shits grinned at the back of Kit’s head. Kit could feel the man’s presence demanding attention.

So many people in one little nook of the world. Walking with purpose. Passing each other without a second glance. Doctors passing construction workers, teachers passing the uneducated. Each immersed in their own reality, there own lives being etched out one second at a time. Kit knew that life didn’t streak across the sky like lightning, but was slowly forged, with car and time. Kit began to turn around, but something caught his eye right below his window which was exactly above the entrance doors of the building. A man was detached from the flowing vein of the sidewalk bustle. He was waving his arms around between bursts of trying to get by Jimmy, the buildings door man. Jimmy wasn’t being rough with the odd man, but gently turned him around and calmed him for a few seconds. But the man with a tie flapping at the nape of his neck would whirl back around in frantic gestures, trying to move his way into the building. Kit finally finished his revolution to face Shits, took a deep breath and cleared his throat. Time would tell.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Med. Marijuana

What the hell is going on with our government? Instead of focusing on issues that really matter, the American public is yet again thrown into some fantastical crusade against this extremely evil drug. What is even more amazing, to me at least, is that there are medical researches and reports that could fill your house stating that marijuana is a great aid for so many health conditions. Now, it is correct that marijuana can get you high or alter brain states, but so does a prescription of the legal form of heroin. Regardless of the marijuana hype and taboo by those who see the world only through the subjective eyes of strict stubborn morality, marijuana is not deadly or a contributing factor to the dregs of society. Furthermore, I don't even want to see this in the paper again:
"The Drug Enforcement Agency began raids in 2001 against patients using the drug and their caregivers in California, one of 11 states that legalized the use of marijuana for patients under a doctor's care. Among those arrested was Angel Raich, who has brain cancer, and Diane Monson, who grew cannabis in her garden to help alleviate chronic back pain."
Who the hell arrests a guy with brain cancer!? Oh yeah, we are working under the states moral imperative and must save this man who is going to die shortly, by taking away something that has evidently brought at least some semblance of peace to his rapidly dwindling time on this world. Thinking about federal officers handcuffing that guy and taking him away to jail or a wherever they held him just makes me sick. Is this what Jesus would do? Your god fearing justices on the Supreme Court seem to think this is the correct action. Replublicans and Democrats make me sick. In fact, Washington D.C. needs some help from some grassroots politicans who don't have much to lose. The American public, whether they like it or not, needs to hear from some politicians who don't give a shit about which way they part their hair on television appearences. Seriously, when I hear that a person can't run under a noble political agenda (such as this topic) because it would be political suicide, I want to vomit. Poor America.
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