hocus pocus

lately i've been reading up on future trends. not fashion, hair or home décor - more societal and communication related. how does one predict these things you ask...

they don't really. it's all opinion and those are like ass holes.

however, some of the things they say really make sense, partly because it's the type of world i want to see and also because i will make a lot of money.

i'm not one to be totally motivated by the dolla dolla billz, but i think i can encapsulate this stardust and run with it.

some guy said "the times they are a changin'" and i want it. this past decade has been crappy. no one is doing anything different, no one is motivated, no one is active. we've all been sitting in front of our computers writing stupid blogs about self absorption. all we want is tech-knowledgy but use it to play snood.

now, i don't know anything about technology - but i realize that all this mindless shit our britney obsessed society plays with could be used for something more important than posting drunken pictures.

also, why does everyone have to move forward, disregarding the past? i like getting letters in the mail and talking to people in person. do we have to be so technology focused? do we have to change everything in order to do something new? history repeats itself - make it work!

i don't really know what i'm talking about.

i'm a bitch

this may come as no surprise to some of you.... but i'm an asshole. i'm pretty sure this started at conception. my parents must have been fighting and got so turned on by the intense rage running through them that they effed - producing me. i can't come up with any other reason besides my remarkably low self esteem, which is a result of my parents anyway so F U MOM AND DAD!

i was mean in elementary school, especially when a girl had such a big crush on me that she wrote me a love letter. being the stupid shit i was, i read it aloud to all my friends and then tore it up in her face. i've since apologized to her for that...

middle school was a wake up call when i had bad clothes, acne and clear braces. you'd think this experience would help me see the error of my ways. NOT! i just got bitter and jaded at the ripe age of 13.

i was sneaky in high school. i bottled up my douche so much that i would just stop talking to people i wanted to be mean to. i also took it out on my family, which, as stated before, i blame for all my problems. i felt claustrophobic in that awkward leave it to beaver world ed and marilyn were trying to create.

i've tried taking it out on random strangers. being a condescending fuck didn't make me feel better. instead, i just felt bad about being mean and then got meaner to the people around me. inside i'm screaming, 'stop! you're just being mean - for no good reason! KNOCK IT OFF!' outside i'm ripping the victim to shreds with my words.

if only i'd listened in 3rd grade when they told us you will not feel better about yourself by making others feel bad.

man - i'm so fucking emo.

marry me?

if you ever have the opportunity to see phyllis ness pop, lock and drop it....

take it.

the little things

i've driven the company car on three different errands today, all of which could have been accomplished at once (or not at all) had anyone thought strategically.

on the second walk back to the office, i came upon two big black bugs doing it on the sidewalk. as i strolled by, one flew away - obviously embarrassed by being caught in the act. this made me smile, as along the same sidewalk someone had permanently etched 'dykes rule' in the cement, preceded by two stick figure ladies holding hands. my mind then wandered to thoughts of homosexuality in the insect community.

on the third walk back to the office i walked down the same sidewalk. as i approached the two cemented lesbians, i saw the same big black bug on the sidewalk - obviously dead. my mind then wandered to thoughts of cannibalism in the insect community.

haiku

godfrey is so cute
i could eat him for dinner
i'll love him long time

give me wings

i was vehemently against red bull. it tastes like crap, it looks like crap, it contains crap. it's only refreshing when served with jager.

the hell that entraps me 8-5, M-F basically serves red bull on tap. i resisted for more than two months.

i was about to snooze at my desk when i realized, that's a bad idea. i decided to bite the bullet and go for a red bull. not that sugar free shit infants and the elderly drink - straight to the original. i wanted my body and mind to be vitalized with taurine.

something ran through my veins that i couldn't explain. i truly felt as though two red bulls were butting heads - except the golden sun behind them was my heart and it beat faster and faster with each thrust of the horns. i was so efficient, things came so clearly. it DID increase concentration and it DID improve reaction speed. my performance WAS improved ESPECIALLY during times of increased stress or strain. i didn't need to be here for nine hours everyday; i could accomplish an entire week's worth of tasks in 10 min!

i got another one. the bulls got bigger. I AM A GOLDEN GOD!

i had to stop after that because i didn't want to have a heart attack.

i've been hooked ever since. i save them for afternoon treats and have at least two a day. i don't know how i functioned before.

with my habit of binge drinking, pack-a-day cigs, junk food diet and now red bull - i'll live to see 27. maybe.

volpe

this is my public apology to ashley volpe for not seeing her on her birthday.

sometimes, one gets too drunk too early and loses track of time.

only to realize the time once the bus stops.

only to attempt biking to wicker park.

only to realize that doesn't work after drinking too early.

volpe, expect something from me in the near future.

i love you

west siEEEEEde

*insert mad beat at own discretion*

it's a hard knock everyday life i lead
workin' for change down on my knees
I'M A MOTHA FUCKIN GANGSTA

my momma be illin
my baby be chillin
I'M A MOTHA FUCKIN GANGSTA

stayin in my ravens-hood
drinkin at the ravens-pub
I'M A MOTHA FUCKIN GANGSTA

my baby momma calls me off the chain
i ain't supportin no baby
I'M A MOTHA FUCKIN GANGSTA

i got my posse by my side
poppin caps in yo ass
I'M A MOTHA FUCKIN GANGSTA

fuck that pussy bitch
suck my dick woman
I'M A MOTHA FUCKIN GANGSTA

i got mad skills yo
but fuck me like i'm dead
I'M A MOTHA FUCKIN GANGSTA

peace betch

games i play

currently, i'm eating a chicken salad bagel sandwich, typing up this blog entry, and holding my pee as long as i possibly can.

most people would probably call this torture, but i'm a masochistic fuck! mind over body is a tough game to play and i like to teeter on the edge of soggy shorts.

in retrospect, i can't remember when this started. was it in high school as the track coaches encouraged us to hold it till after the race, for that extra push to the finish line? no - i skipped practice and smoked secret cigarettes, killing time before heading home to eat chips 'n dip.

there was only one time i was defeated by my bladder. my age was in the double digits (i think) and i was being the best little brother ever - making my sister a sandwich for lunch. i had to pee soooooo bad, but even more, i NEEDED to finish this sandwich before i did. i was crossing my legs, doing the toddler 'pee-pee dance' and as soon as i'd smashed the pb to the j, i ran to the bathroom.

halfway across the kitchen - my bladder triumphed. it wasn't so much a relief, as i felt i was being sucked through a black hole. i paused for a second, overcome by the understanding i was peeing my pants - then hopped the remainder of the way to the bathroom/shower.

my mind still dominates.. but i'd rather leave work early.

hate in my heart

my daily commute consists of riding the 50 damen bus down to catch the 65 grand bus. it takes me far too long getting to work and the bus is always crowded. however, the buses are reasonably reliable and i end up riding with the same people everyday.

even if i get the seat in the back with the extra leg room, i start each day with hate in my heart.

i need to let it out.

there is one person on the bus whom i've never directly interacted with, except one day when i had to sit next to her and our arms touched for 45 minutes - i wanted to punch her in the face.

she's probably my age, has dark brown hair and greasy blond highlights. i don't know if she received the 2002 memo, but - GREASY BLOND HIGHLIGHTS ON DARK BROWN HAIR ARE OVER. she also texts on a phone she keeps in a case the ENTIRE ride down damen. if she chooses to be intellectual for a day, she reads books with nondescript covers, but i can tell they suck because the type face is so big it cannot be for anyone over the age of 14 (that's generous).

please do not assume i am so shallow as to hate her only for these reasons, my hatred stems from a much deeper, socially conscious place. her bus etiquette is horrendous.

she is "that girl" who sits on the outside of a two seater until someone comes and awkwardly stands next to her staring, only for her to swivel sideways so they can maneuver around her. she'll also stow her backpack on the seat next to her while the bus visibly fills to capacity ONLY to move it if someone asks her to. I HATE HER.

the other thing she does is stand in the exit door space and doesn't move when people try to get out, this drives me bonkers. everyday she lumbers over to wait there a few stops before she has to and i have to barrel past her in order to exit before the green light turns off.

i stare her down daily. i think she fears me.

and i love it.

today she exited the same stop i did and trotted down grand street as she's never done before, putting her hand over her face as she passed me by. i watched her walk away, she was aimless.

i've seen her at the grocery store before.

naturally the girl i hate would be my stalker.

cheese head

i accomplished everything i was looking to do in sconsin minus the water park.

i obtained a bicycle and went on a really great date that included fancy food and imax batman.

i also got to experience bro-life sconsin style. once they got over my chicago fashion (american apparel is currently being constructed in madison) and i had a few drinks - it was an excellent time. from what i remember, bro-life consists of light hearted jokes, youtube videos, bar hopping at a ridiculous speed, lots of shots and texting girls you aren't hanging out with. it's also socially acceptable to drink sparks before you go out.

i found that gays frequent the same bars as bros. as much as they tried to camouflage, i could spot one a mile away. after a shot the size of a drink, i called to a group of them (in my best straight voice), "hey! homos!" the terror in their eyes quickly faded and we embarked on a conversation about gay-life sconsin style.

overall, i'd go back.