2 Books in works…otherwise boring
Oh, you’re in for a treat. Short story collection and also poetry collection coming out as books in the near future. I don’t have the artwork yet, but i’ll try to get the artist to agree to post multiple options and maybe we’ll do a poll on what would have been best.
How marginally interesting.
Shitty 90′s drunk-pop-punk music Rulz
Now available on iTunes, Amazon MP3, Spotify…it’s Naples, FL’s own N2N. Straight outta 1997!
Go get some.
Oh hell no
the post that originally resided here was really really really really really ridiculously stupid.
stupider than normal, that is.
4th or 6th time is the charm
shots and fire and coffee beans. c'mon now.
So I’ll unlock it again, fuck it. I’ve promised to start updating this and keep it open god knows how many times in past posts, even one with Jesus in it (praise him), so y’know, I should probably hedge my bets because I need all the help I can get winning the goddamn lottery. Hook it up, Jebus, hook-it-up.
I’m drunk enough to open it up, not drunk enough to post…yet. There is still hope for the weekend.
Oh hey I had a blog
Look, a different drunk person with a worse t-shirt
This is great, I had no idea this shit was still here. Rum seems to have magical powers regularly, but this supercedes regularity, and gives the Cap’n true navigational skillz. I had a blog that I neglected to block. How about that. Well goddamn, guess I’ll have to start this shit up again.
Firstly, it would appear that I need to apologize to all internet eyes for that previous post. I would guess it seemed funny when I was drunk and used it almost a year ago, were I able to recall such things 5 minutes after they happened. I have grown a lot in the last year, and think I might be more mature, and with that in mind I look back upon that crazy ass fat bitch and am like, damn, wtf was I thinking, sir or madam or other mature greeting term?
Or whatever. I think you need to read between the lines above and take from it what is important, which is mainly that I forgot this was here and will start it up again, which is great, and also that my last post was unmerciful to the eyes. Those are what is important. Ignore the rest, such as I am drunk as fuck right now.
Less interesting shit forthcoming in future posts. Boo-ya.
Secondly, I have no idea what the picture for this post is, but it is the top image post for googling “drunken forget” somehow. Someone is a genius with that image placement shit, so good for them.
The Picture Is An Exaggeration, Trust Me
500ml+ of rum imbibed…check!
Coherence…largely absent, error!
Alert, or something!
Like the crazy computer talk above, this blog has gone downhill over the past year, if that is possible. This is mainly because I have moved to the suburbs, and has nothing to do with my disinterest in “blogging” with any kind of coherent mind. Let me explain, and then likely ramble, because I’m only 40% coherent. But, I assure you, that should be plenty, just ignore what you know about percentages. Also let me assure you that I am lying about that percentage.
In the suburbs, your house is 7 feet away from your neighbor’s house on either side. Your back porch has a “lake view” obstructed by your asshole neighbor’s trees on one side, and the back porch of a house occupied by renters who don’t do shit but blast Latino techno (yes there is such a thing, as I have found out), play beer pong, and try to hit on girls that are dumber than your pets, and not necessarily much hotter. If you are attracted to animals, I mean. And if you are attracted to animals, always use peanut butter; it’s the safest way to get action. But I digress.
On top of that, you have no real front yard except some trees and some grass for general pain in the ass maintenance purposes. Making the front look nice makes people believe the inside and the rear are nice; like when fat girls have pretty faces. The face has potential for at least a good blowjob, but when the clothes start coming off…well, y’know. You keep going, and just don’t tell anybody. But with houses that’s not a good idea.
Let me say at this here juncture, this is the last I have to say about houses, house maintenance, landscaping, and hopefully, fat girls. No offense, fat girls. I’ve been there (meaning on a waterbed with you after too many – and the memories are interesting), and yes it is true that you will do absolutely anything, which is endearing to both my cock and my memories. But, oh look, it’s late and I need to get home to my undisclosed location. Yes, I’ll call you, promise!
I ca handle my liquer? Mebbe
Like I said, it’s on. What that means, I think, is that I am now going to produce, and possibly at a rate that defies whatever it is that I originally thought needed some defying. That might be the fact that my blog was boring. So, I’m going to fight that with more of the same, which may or most likely will not help anything.
So, since the last house hunting post I have bought a house and spent goddamn untold amounts of time fixing it up. I’ve also bought a car that has modern type conveniences like windows that seal, A/C, seats that move, and shit like that. So, basically, I’m mackin’ up in this bitch, with my house in the borderline ghetto and a 7 year old car. Don’t be jealous; if we all work hard, we can achieve the same things. Or we can sling crack and have 09 Benz’s and a crew beneath us we have to manage, y’know, it’s all about choice. Whichever way you want to roll; the results are the same, just slightly different.
So, I’ve cut down on the drinking. Well, c’mon, obviously not tonight, but y’know, overall. That’s a good thing. The not-making-sense thing is that I now live in the goddamn boring ass ‘burbs – who the fuck has fun out here? The only people I see having fun are the pre-college bitches who live across the way and have conversations that make me laugh on their cell phones on their back porches.
So, yeah, I’m trapped in the ‘burbs. I’m trying to find more humor in that, but instead find myself focusing on the airplaines flying overhead and whatever is on TV. TV usually has some kind of cooking show that is a repeat of some other similary named show, sports event that is predetermined by the bookies, or news that is pre-screened by a panel of those who deem themselves above us.
Or whatever, I don’t even know what that shit up there says.
I’m too drunk to even find a good tittie picture for right here, oh well.
Oh Snap, It’s On
lord jebus
http://www.boingboing.net/2009/05/05/your-blog-is-a-weapo.html#comments
Now that Blogs are officially a weapon, it’s worth me resurrecting this shit and keeping it up. Ok then, we’re back! I’ve had half a bottle of sake and 4 rum and cokes and it took me 6 mintues to type these few sentences…yep, we’re back!
Oh, and look, it’s Jebus, or something! He loveded tiny baby lambs and BBQ’d them, I mean, c’mon, those things are fucking tasty as hell BBQ’d. Maybe he didn’t, because they represented him, I don’t know, but what I do know is that Captain Morgan is not from Endor, and if Cap’n Morgan isn’t from Endor, and is a wookie, and therefore not an ewok, you must acquit.
The rules of life are simple.
Ah Damn, The 2nd Boringest Shit Ever
4 Asbach colas, 2 captain/colas, 4 vodka orange, 1 scotch. That is the roadmap from tonight. So far. Work’s been suckin’ blah blah, plus they’re talking about laying people off again, so why not…just, why not. The fact that it’s Monday night is irrelevant.
I do have an untouched bottle of Bacardi left here by a friend, but I’m debating the rations of ice left and what they should be spent on. Somehow, Bacardi never comes up in the top spot. The scotch is top shelf, but I’m putting it on top of this sweet mixer, which is probably a mortal sin. A proper mouthwash with it solves that, but it also nearly makes me gag. The burn going down is excellent as usual, but the fucking taste in my mouth is as bad as the stale, smoky air trapped in this fucking cubbyhole in the apartment; and like work, it all truly makes me want to throw up.
I’m house hunting, which is unreal in itself. I’m keeping my 13 year old bimmer on the road with electrical tape and brake fluid bottles every week, but it’s working. Apparently there’s a loophole in the home buying system where they don’t care if you can get a car loan – fuck it, they’ll give you a house! So, sure, I’m qualified, and looking. My agent has so far sent me every house in the motherfucking ghetto, but to his credit, they’re fairly nice houses. I think I’m going to go outside the box and get something in a decent neighborhood; if I have to lose the pool to do it, well, y’know. Life is tough.
Shit, a fucking house. I have trouble getting 300 dollar unsecured credit cards. Say what now? But, to be honest, I’ve rebuilt all of that bad 20′s anti-credit, and am now a responsible citizen. Maybe they can smell it on me. Or maybe they can smell the fact that my credit score has jumped over 100 points in two years. Either way, they need to get their noses out of my ass. Maybe they smell me giving up.
I’m semi-under the grid. Being completely off the grid would be awesome, but outside of winning the lottery or walking down to the labor pool every day at 7am, I don’t see a way to pull it off. The labor pool isn’t that bad; I did it for a while. You walk down, sign up, and wait for a job to come up. Sometimes you wait for an hour or two and you are shit out of luck, but if you do get called, chances are it’s some kind of new shitty job in some new area with some other shitty boss. The variety isn’t all that bad. The work, maybe, but like today being Monday, that’s irrelevant for this post.
I’m sure that made sense somehow.
We’re All Gonna Dieeeeee!
Unless you are homeless or extremely good looking, you probably have heard about the supercollider whatever that they built in France, and the theoretical danger it poses. They finally got it cooled down to “space” temperature and the day it turns on approaches.
When they turn this thing on and it creates a black hole the size of a silver dollar, it is going to eat everything and we will all be slowly pulled into France. I know, everybody’s worst nightmare, because once you enter the borders of France your will to fight against the pull of the black hole will just evaporate and you will try to surrender to the black hole. Unfortunately, black holes don’t take prisoners. Still, you might want to buy a beret and a mime outfit, because I hear those are popular where we all will be going.
So, you may want to rethink your life real quick like, then go ahead and do all of those things you’ve been putting off. Me, I’m going to finish this drink then pour another and watch the chaos from my porch in my overpriced run down apartment. Because I’m already living the dream; I have it all.
