Dreadful is the day, "I search for the meaning of life."

I need to be more careful. I just dropped a blue tablet of 2000 flushes into my toilet. I washed my hands carefully and poured myself a glass of sugar free Ice Tea. On my third or so sip of the tea I noticed that my finger had a blue stain from the chlorine tablet. I used that finger tip to pick up my glass so I am sure that I am going to die from chlorine poisoning or something. I guess that is why I have gone ahead and posted this blog entry.

I have only been writing a little bit and not posting any of it. I can't live up to even the humble writing standards of this blog. I've been depressed I think. I am trying to convince myself that I need to go work out today. I joined the gym on the first of the month and a visit today would only be my third.

I did eat a massive portion of fried fish and french fries from a local fishery, and by fishery, I mean a local fast food joint that serves it's fish battered and drenched in grease. Pete's fish and chips comes with a kind of watered down hot sauce mixed with ketchup.

You can't ask for regular ketchup and they charge you 25 cents for a small 1 ounce cup of the stuff. I think they make all the profit from the shop this way. They do sell cokes for 69 cents in the summer and big cheeseburgers for a dollar, so you can't really complain. Even though I just did.

I wrote a long boring article about complaining and philosophy. I said that the only thing universal to humankind is complaining. You gather ten people in room and in no short order they will begin to gripe. Philosophy is just like complaining, which is what turns most people off about it. I defended philosophical thinking by suggesting that it is one method that people use for truth seeking and truth is seeking is the only way one can speak of things meaningfully. If we want any meaning out of our lives we need to remember to seek truth.

Don't worry I deleted it, so I won't appear here. But I wrote that because I was pissed off at EMO-culture and I was comparing it to the (hahah) more enlightened and time tested weltanshaungs of Nihilism and Existentialism.

I always get existential whenever the tedium of my job gets to me. What I mean is there is always the dread living with me. It tugs at me gently (and even not so gently) by the unending exercise of looking down at your stupid groceries, your stupid open swim suit covers that expose your stupid fat chests with stupid too tiny crucifixes hidden in the plump cleavage of a 40 year old women with too much mascara, buying bottles of wine, with her long colored nails digging into her purse for change, asking me if she can buy a deli rotisserie chicken and pay with food stamps. No you cannot.

On and on it goes. Every single human who walks by me and thing they buy- I list off a reason why they should not be on this planet, or why their purchases bother me. I detect skin problems as they fiddle with the electronic payment system. They hand me over their sweaty money with nails invaded by green fungus. They come to the store after work stinking of urine and axle grease. They forget rules of etiquette. They swear and talk on cell phones. The attractive look at me with pity and disgust, or they don't look at all. They go on the next line because the other cashier is taller and thinner than I am. So many of the patrons bore me with conversation that sometimes I bore them back with my stories.

Here is one:

Yesterday and old women driving one of those old people scooters crashed into a front end display full of peanut butter and glass jelly jars. The thing came tumbling down like an avalanche of purple glass. The shattering of which brought a cacophony of thunderous noise to my ears which barely caused me to look up from my screen. I swipe away at the next item. I don't want to seem too interested in the events. Maybe the manager will want me to clean it up.

I am lucky. He asks for help from the customer service desk. A dwarfish female with the sexual perversions of two high school football teams walks over and squats down. She picks glass with the latex gloves doctors use to inspect your rectum, an idea from the manager, who by some small piece of brain engineered power, assumes the quality found in latex which prevents semen from leaking out of condoms could protect hands from the cutting effects of broken glass. He was right. No one was cut, and the old women who knocked down the wall of pb&j passes through my line sheepishly.

She doesn't hear well. I repeat the price and tell her that her total is 25 dollars. She eyes the two twenty dollar bills in her twisted hands with trepidation, almost afraid that the 15 dollars in change she has coming back should be put towards the hundred jars of spilled product that now lie useless on the floor behind her. She does not ask for help out to her car even though she needs it to get the scooter back inside. She wants to leave as quickly as possible.

I pass the time in my head. I remember all the things I need to do.

• I need to go the gym
• I need to stop drinking cola
• I need to drink more water
• I need to attend a communist party meeting
• I should donate money to the needy in Africa
• I must ease up on the masturbation thing if only to allow some feeling to get back into that dumb rod of mine
• I need to stop being so self involved
• I need to buy some antacids
• I need to write a book
• I need to stop spending 8 hours a day on the Internet
• I need to finish the post on sexual double standards -I tell pervy dwarfy girl I call it "Cut Of f your PUSSY!" -- ("Why do you care about those kind of things?" --asks the dwarf) "Why do I care about anything?" I answer the girl.

I search for the meaning of life, but get caught up in the circular meanderings of my mind. The atrophy of depression is confusing to me. I try to think of reasons to do things, but then the back of my throat starts its morning cry.

"Good morning sir, and will there be more soda today? If so you can look forward to the tickle becoming a stinging, like the swallow of bumble bees."

A few burps later and the acid will eat away at the remainder of my esophagus.

"I can wake you in the middle of the night and you can gasp for air. My tight grip will be the noose and you will hang today. We are in the Old West. I will offer you no jury."

At least I understand the horror of asthma now. I was sure I was going to die the first time I woke and could not breathe. I had no idea why. My chest inflated to twice its regular size in a desperate search for air, my eyes are like saucers, my hands wrap reflexively around my neck, I hop up and down in vain. Then magically the grip relents. My throat opens just enough. I drag in the sweet air. I sit up right for the next few hours on my bed. I will not test sleeping again. I swear off cola.

Though I am sure it is just a symptom the acid reflux. A gentle reminder that the ingestion of carbonic acid for 10 hours a day was not selected for by our ancestors. Such sweet terror. Oh, such poor Darwinian luck.

I want to suggest to myself that doing something is better than not doing anything at all. I want to pretend to you that I did not buy the five 12 packs of cola for $12 at work last night, but I did. I place a can can in one of the new cozies that I just purchased. I bought 10 can and bottle cozies, each for a quarter.

I have no idea why I need so many.

One thing I promise not to do is...

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Somebody gets me a gift that could be "entered in" as evidence against me in a trial

I'm broke again even though I heroically work one part time job that pays under 10 dollars an hour. I went drinking twice in the past week or two and that "good time" basically gutted all my savings. And by savings I mean the hundred dollars I managed to stock away since I started working at the grocery store.

I'm the kind of guy who buys a dozen pregnancy tests at the dollar store and stuffs them all under the bathroom cabinet in hopes that you will find them when you are snooping through my medicine cabinet to teach you a lesson about learning things about people you don't want to know.

I guess that is why one of my best friends dropped by yesterday just to give a poster of Hannah Montana. I think it will go great with Mary-Kate and Ashley hair gel that I have on my bathroom sink counter top. I don't know where I will hang the poster yet, but my roommate said I could hang it in the living room. If I hang it in the living room I think that will defeat the whole purpose of the poster which I assumed to be for masturbation.

Normally I would be psyched about getting a poster of such a fine piece of jailbait. But lately I have come to the conclusion that my well known predilection for under aged girls maybe coming to an end. It might be because I am finally getting mature, but it probably has more to do with the fact that none of them know who Morris the cat is.

Seriously, it's almost like you can't have a conversation with one without explaining every other reference you make from the popular culture zeitgeist of 1970's TV. Furthermore, you can assume that they don't read the papers or watch the evening news, they get their news from the internet. And I think I don't need to tell you how I hate it when teenagers feign grown up feelings like nostalgia.

The boomer parents of Generation Y have a thing for nostalgia, and now their children feel entitled to it. I remember a few years ago Gen X got in trouble from all the weekly magazines (god they hate us) for an early case of nostalgia fondness. But at least when I say "that takes me back" I am not referring to 2006 and the whole S.A.R.S. scare. "I remember buying one of those surgical masks, it was like a way scary time to be alive." Christ, maybe Tom Brokaw had it right about the greatest generation thing.

(To the teens reading this blog on their palm pilots --Tom Brokaw was a news anchor on NBC --the network that Jerry Seinfeld started--back when people waited for the news to be read to them by an old white guy at 5:30 in the evening with their TV dinners you actually cooked in the non microwave oven because our mom's cared about our health way more than your moms care about yours.)

I was a famous podcaster way before I was a famous blogger

WARNING... i WROTE THIS BOG POST dRUNK!

I might not be a famous blogger, but I am a famous podcaster. That shit is kinda ironic as my podcast is simply me reading my blog out loud to all you fuckers who can't read. I know that is most of you and I want to thank you dyslexic fucks for all your help making me famous on the internets. Just because you can't read doesn't mean you are useless to me.

My podcast over at Switchpod.com is number 23 on the top podcasts. I don't know if it is you who is ranking me so high, but thanks. I honestly feel pretty pumped ab0ut that. Yes, I am totally drunk, but that has nothing to do with me climbing the summit to one of the lamest top 10 lists for podcasts out there.

I am confident that the list is real as my ranking is only a 3.0 out of 5 which seems pretty reasonable. The highest ranking that any podcast has on switchpod.com is 3.3 so it looks like no one is gaming the system by ranking themselves over and over with 5's.

Even though I # 23 for Switchpod.com (they have over 6,000 podcasts) I saw only a modest jump in my statistics. I had about 50 extra downloads today. That is not a lot. This blog has had more than a 1,000 hits in a day before. I do have about 140 downloads this month which is double last month and we still have 1o days to go. If the trend continues I will get 500 this month which would be double the best month I have had. (update: I got nowhere near that only about 200 downloads for the month!)

Don't get me wrong. I am sure I won't stay on the list. But I am kinda excited that I was featured on the top podcasts from Switchpod.com. The ranking is based on reactions from listeners, so that makes it even more flattering. It's because of all you lame ass fags that I am getting famous.

Like I said, it appears no one is gaming the system. Since all you would gain is a few hundred listeners it would not be worth the effort anyway. If you suck you will quickly fall out of favor and drop off the list and 200 added listeners is not worth feeling like a schmuck by ranking yourself a 5 over and over again. I am absolutely blown away that this little podcast can be in the top 50 out of 6,000 plus podcasts. My blog has never gone matched that kind of success before.

Most of my "readers" have tons more hits and Google page rankings than I have. Maybe some of you should think about podcasting. I have been told my voice is creepy and maybe some of you will do better.

In other news my blog offends my friends....

At least two of my friends have come forward to tell me that they won't hang out with me because I blog about my real life and they don't want all their personal shit on the web. What is funny is that the two people have probably the least number of postings of all my friends and I am quite sure that they aren't hanging out with me for other reasons. Like maybe they don't have free time, or they think that I am way to cool for school.

The truth is that they are long time friends who I value way more than this blog and I have never exposed them by name, nor would I. A simple request to remove any offensive material would be all that is required or a request to not mention them or any contact with them would get them removed.

Now you know how to get your shit removed from this blog. I do tend to fall in love with what I have just written, but any writer will do that. I know that I am not at all loyal to any thing in the archives by more than a week. So call me. Write me. Yell at me if you want. This goes for my blog friends. I can alter the past because no one cares about history.

Self Help Podcast # 21

I was recording this podcast when I got interrupted by a phone call from work. They wanted me to pick my schedule for the upcoming week. I have to work 6 days next week. Not a big deal as I typically work 6 days a week so I can at least get near 35 hours.

When the phone call came I was watching Netflix online. I was watching a documentary, Stripped. The documentary is about a woman who goes undercover to work as a stripper and records her observations and those of her co-workers.

My co-worker wanted to know if I was jacking off while I was watching the movie. I told her that while the movie had a lot of nudity it was no an exploitation movie. The movie was directed by a woman, so it was not sexual it was informative.



What did I learn? Women who strip like money. Women who strip like the attention from men at first, it reminds them of daddy. They say so explicitly. But eventually women see the biological side of men. That we are erect penises. That we we are being sexual we don't need them emotionally. But then they get resentful of the men who want to connect emotionally with them. Because they have already given so much when they dance for men they are too tired to give anything more.

By the end of the movie most of the women are dead, or they are in comas. I assume that is why every time you go a strip club you see different women. They have a high mortality rate.

Go read Grace Undressed if you want to get into the mind of stripper. I suggest it even when she deleted my comment on her blog that indicated that if she publishes a book before me I would slit my wrists and it would be her fault. I guess ex-strippers don't have a sense of humor. Netflix thought I would rate this movie 2 stars out of 5. But I give it 3.75 stars.

And now here is a list of drinks in my fridge:

1. coke
2. dr. pepper
3. milk
4. bottled water
5. red bull
6. fresca
7. barq's root beer
8. big k cola
9. big k lime-lemon
10. bud select
11. miller lite
12. mich ultra
13. minute maid orange aid
14. mm fruit punch
15. mm lemanade
16. o'douls
17. diet dr pepper
18. light apple jiuce
19. power aid
20. fanta orange
21. diet orange
22. margarita mix
23. protien shakes
24. diet lemonade

My frontal cortex is shrinking and my penis is not getting any larger to make up for it

My brain is shrinking. I guess that is the kind of thing that happens to you as you get older. I was reading an article from the Boston Globe that was explaining forgetfulness and that common feeling of having something on the tip of your tongue. I think you should read the article, but I forget why. I know I should worry a little bit more about that, but I am not going to. I do remember why I liked reading this story though, it's because it helped me explain why I can't remember proper nouns anymore. Something about how the frontal cortex goes looking for things your conscious mind forgets and how as you age you lose your mind (literally) and that's what makes recalling memories so difficult.

Before I read this article I assumed it had something to do with the dental work I had done on me a few years ago. Back when I had health insurance, the first thing I did was to have all my molars removed and replaced with some kind of toxic mercury compound. I never understood why mercury was considered toxic to humans except when you placed it in your teeth, but my dentist was a rather cute petite Asian lady who meant no harm.

I have lots of things to worry about other than my growing senility, like just how I am going to keep my ass under 215 pounds. I decided I needed to have a plan even though my plan in life has always been against having plans. I decided to be against plans after I read a few 'alternative' history books about Adolf Hitler and how he should have waited to attack the Soviet Union. According to all those alternative histories if Hitler never opened that 'second front' in the war he would have won WW II and then we'd all be speaking dutch or whatever Germans speak. Right then and there I decided that having a plan for anything was as bad an idea as a winter assault on Moscow. Bad.

All that is to say that I am going against my previous position and ban on plans by deciding to have a "plan" to join a local gym. The only way I can afford to join a gym is by cutting back on some of my expenses, because unlike the government I don't operate two sets of books, just one and that book says I am broke and the gym I am thinking of joining likes to make sure they stay profitable by refusing to let you cancel your membership. I figure I better darn well be able to afford joining the gym or I will end up paying hundreds of dollars I can't afford to my bank in overdraft fees.

I am not sure that joining a gym will really get me skinny. I think not eating does that. But at least you have to admit that you never saw this move coming. I like to do that to you. Set you up for something and then give you the opposite. I do that because everywhere else in your life you have trained the people, corporations, government, family, pets and Tivo to give you exactly what you want, when you want it. Well I won't do that for you. And it shows you just how low your self esteem is that you keep coming back for more.

Toodles,
Romius T. (AKA Mr. Buff_)

I have this idea about blogging about not having ideas and how you should probablly at least have an idea when you blog

I was going through my voice mail and I found one where a very nice sounding guy was telling me that I had entered a contest to win a Lincoln Navigator and he was just calling to tell me "he had some very good news." He went on to tell me to call some chick named Michelle or something and gave me a 1-800 number to call. I deleted the message or I would print her name and number on the Internet for people to harass her.

I know the guy is lying because I can't remember ever signing up for a contest to win a Lincoln Navigator and I always remember which contests I enter because I write down every contest I enter and check on the outcomes of the contests by sending postcards to the the address that promises to send you the names and addresses of the actual winners of the contest who never happen to be me.

One day I will take the list of names and addresses and a gun and do a little of what I like to call "god's work" on those folks who probably think to themselves that they are lucky and god is shining down on them. What they don't know is that god is simply preparing them for a test and that test comes with a 9mm and a pretty good aim. I was born is Texas Y'all.

Even if I thought I actually won a Lincoln Navigator I would not call that 1-800 number. With gas prices near 4 dollars and soon 5 I can't afford two cars, much less the 200 dollars it would take to fill up Ford's soccer mom station wagon on steroids.

None of this has anything to do with a new theory I am working on about how I should not be blogging about my inability to blog, but I wanted to let you know what goes down in the Romius T household on a daily basis.

Also, I can't remember exactly what I was going to say so instead I will just suggest you go and listen to a podcast from This American Life that covers everything you need to know about the Home mortgage crisis. I found it highly informative. Much more informative than the prank winning navigator calls I get left for me on my voice mail, and more informative than this messy post on stuff you aren't supposed to do anymore that never gets around to the thesis.

EYE BALLING YOU

Phillips Electronics recently applied for a patent for a "camera system to track eye movements of shoppers." I have one word for that. Offensive.

And as offensive as such a system would be it is even more frightening. What makes corporate America think they are entitled to knowledge like this?

Link Via Boing Boing!

Cooking with Romius T. subtitle: I make lasagna. I learn how to say Riccota. My IGF would not eat my cooking.

I feel like maybe I should say something about that last post. I'm not going to because that would cause us to have to re-examine the old post and I would have to explain what I was really trying to say. That was my old job at this blog; to say the things I thought. I still feel the need to explain things sometimes, but my new job is to be a popular blogger because everybody I know can write better than me, so I will just try to be popular blogger from now on, and if there is one thing popular bloggers do it's a cooking segment so here is mine.

I really can't afford to make lasagna but I did anyway. I may have to get rid of Netflix or stop paying on my truck insurance, but sweet cheesy goodness has its price and apparently I am willing to pay it.

I am having a little problem deciding on how to tell you the story of my lasagna. I am not sure if I should give you the recipe that I would have liked to use, or just tell you what I actually did to make the lasagna. The way I made it might worry some of you, but here goes.

SOME OF MY INGREDIENTS ARE OLD

I noticed that the pasta was close to 2 years old but I used it anyway. If it makes my IGF feel better I did not use any of the open old pasta boxes just the old unopened pasta boxes. I am sure pasta is good forever or at least 3 years so I think I will be ok. I think the jars of pasta sauce were like 6 months past due date. I would not normally eat something that past due but they sell these jars at the salvage grocery all the time and if someone was going to die from that I think they would have died by now.

All the cheese I bought was fresh. But my ground beef was frozen and I even used the microwave to defrost it. I know a real chef would not do that but this "Cooking with T" segment was built more for the woman who hates to cook food for her child and husband, and a lot less for the epicurean. No child in the world will complain that you microwaved the meat before cooking it. And your husband will wonder why you insisted on frying it up on the skillet. He will consider that trick of yours to be something straight out of culinary school.


I layered the pasta and cheese and meat like normal and shoved it all into an oven at 375 degrees for an hour just like the box says. The box does not have directions for doubling up the recipe like I did so I put the pan back in the over for another half hour or so and too k the cover of foil off for the last 15 minutes. I can tell you that 10 minutes is more than enough to get your lasagna brown because mine nearly got burnt. Some of it did but it is not as bad as it seems.

I tried it and my lasagna came out a bit dry. My IGF says the longer you cook the lasagna the dries it gets so maybe doubling up on the ingredients is not such a good thing after all.

I can't figure out the semicolon in my life

Every day I wake up I head over to the scale to weigh myself. If I weigh in at under 215 pounds I get to keep talking to my internet girlfriend. Most days I am stuck at 212 so all is good. If I eat too much and go over my limit I text message my IGF and she writes me back with all kinds of ways to lose weight quickly, because she loves me and does not want to have to go without talking to me for long. I really think that is great of her.

I should tell you that the 212 lbs is my real weight and I no longer weigh in at 218 which is what I was weighing before I gave up beer. I assumed quiting beer would get me a few pounds slimmer more than it has, but I guess all the candy I have been eating in its place was not a good weight loss idea.

I decided to make the lasagna that I wanted to make yesterday. I didn't make it a day ago because I could not afford to. I say to hell with that now though. I am going to buy the ingredients tonight. All I need is some ricotta cheese. I think I will post a "cooking with romius t" entry in regards to the recipe and what not. I will include pictures of the baked and finished product for you to drool over.

Has anyone noticed how I am talking like a redneck lately?

If I sound like a redneck now I think it is because I figured out that writing with big words was the quickest way to say "look at me I am smart," along with avoiding that kind of writing I stopped adding the melodramatic poetic sing song I used to incorporate into all my writing. For a while there I was also badly trying to imitate Charles Bukowski. My idea of writing like Charles was to introduce as many periods into a sentence as possible. I am sorry about that.

Below is an example of trying to hard to seem smart from my favorite new blogger Gracie "the stripper."

"Depending on your mood, stripping is a celebration of human sexuality, a revolt against hegemony, an exercise in frustration, a study in existential loneliness -- all this, and more, and all at once. "

"You're Full of Shit And So Is Everyone Else. Not only is there a literal pound or two of fecal matter in your gut right now, but every particle of matter in your body has already passed through the body of earthworm, and will again. The most exciting accomplishment of your life -- transforming from a tiny mass of undifferentiated cells into a functioning homo sapiens -- has been accomplished by every other human being on earth. The arrogance of those who present their opinions as more valid than the opinions of anyone on earth, their morals as somehow more moral, is boggling to me."

I hate to pick on Gracie as she is my favorite new blogger, but I thought someone needed to address a few points that she makes in her post "a beginner's guide to pissing me off.". I am not sure when it became fashionable to be an epistemological relativist in addition to being a moral relativist, but I think the conversion of the populace to relativism has more to do with a failure to grasp philosophical logic than any actual sympathy to the relativist point of view.

"The arrogance of those who present their opinions as more valid than the opinions of anyone on earth, their morals as somehow more moral, is boggling to me."

I hardly need to point out that Gracie is making a performative contradiction. She insists that "no one's point of view or opinion is better than anyone else's" and that seems to be making the case that her opinion that "all opinions are equal" is better than everyone else's opinion that "some opinions are ok but some opinions smell like freshly wiped ass."

But I don't really think that is what she meant to say. Perhaps what she meant to say was that on "issues of taste " no person can be incorrect because the matter is subjective. That really is a different argument than what Gracie was making above, but I have a feeling that people making arguments from a relative epistemological point of view would be sympathetic to that perspective. In addition I think many people assume the two points are the same and they aren't.

I really think Gracie has confused the two subjects and confusion seems to be the normal condition of most arm chair philosophers. Maybe because most people only think about philosophy when they are drinking or pissed off. They assume philosophical positions (decisions) are a lot like decisions to like a particular color of kool-aid. I like red and you like blue. I can take the philosophical position that blue is better than red, but I can't really prove my thesis, because it is all subjective and taste is matter of opinion.

I think that kind of thinking about philosophy is wrong headed. But I can't save you all from thinking like that.

I introduce you to a blogger that strips, but is a way better writer than me thus sealing my doom as the waste basket of blogs that I am fated to be.

I have this belief that if you can't make jokes about date rape then can't really call yourself a feminist. I am not sure where I get this belief, but I also discovered recently that you should eat eggs and bacon for breakfast, because you would lose weight. The internet girlfriend (IGF from here on out) takes issue with my "discovery" that fatty breakfasts make for a healthy diet, so I am going to have to Google the study.

Speaking of things I find on the internet, I found a blogger who happens to be a stripper. She writes a great blog which I found via Boing Boing and I thought I should give Boing Boing some credit for linking to her. Except BB is the biggest internet blog in the world and everyone who reads this blog reads BB so I won't provide a link to it.

You might think that finding a blog written by a stripper would be cause for celebration on this here blog. It is not. Grace Undressed is a fantastic writer. She is a way better writer than I am and that really depresses me. You could not guess this by reading me, but it can take upwards of 2 hours to write some of the blog posts you read on this silly website.

It really shouldn't take that long, but I am not a natural writer in the sense that I have thoughts and they get transcribed easily into words and then those words get typed on a page for you to read. It is easy for some people, but words get mixed up in my head. I hear the words I want to say, but I write down different words than I hear in my head. Maybe I am just fooling myself and the things I hear in my head aren't so god damn clever after all and what you are reading is really what I am saying. I have a certain friend who believes that about me. I am sure he is right. He was right about me not being so smart. He is most likely right again.

It really pisses me off to read a stripper* that can write better than me. Go see and read for yourself and you will stop coming to this blog and I won't blame you. I was hoping that the reason you would stop visiting this blog was because I was able to put this blog on hold while I wrote my book. I've been thinking about writing a book for a while, but I have no ideas really. After seeing how much better a "stripper" is at writing than I am, I think I should just give up on the idea.

Don't feel the need to write to me and tell me to keep my chin up. I am not looking for your compliments. I will delete any comments that try. I know you love me. I love you too. You are loyal. I've always liked that about you. It is how I tolerate your presense.

Anyway, I just saw a cool video by Ira Glass where he urges people to keep trying because he knows how we shitty writers have such 'good taste' and how we want to create something awesome and we may know we are not doing that as of yet, but if we keep trying we will.

Well fuck you, Ira Glass.

I've been trying for 5 years or so on this blog and I ain't a lick a bit better than when I first started. I am not what you could call progressing at all. I am sure that means I will never get better. If I can't get better I will be stuck trying to get famous by appealing to the lowest common denominator.

I don't want to write about stuff that is easily recognizable to a mass audience. I have ideas like "you can't call yourself a feminist unless you can make date rape jokes." I don't have enough talent to attempt anything more grandiose than that, and since my publisher refused to make me an offer on my hebophilia* encyclopedia I think I should just stop wasting my time and yours with this stupid blog and my stupid writing ideas, and get a second job so I can afford my Netflix addiction and my food bill.****

I guess what this all means is that you are still stuck with the same shitty blog you have been reading for however long you have linked to this blog in the hope that my traffic could be siphoned off to you. The joke on you being that I don't have much traffic and what little traffic I do get, I have siphoned off from your readership, who must now be a little more than disturbed by your strange reading habits. I won't quit this blog so easy, but I am going to stop dreaming that this is going somewhere, and that I have talent, and that someday that talent will blossom, and all of you will finally appreaciate how special I really am.

footnotes:
*apparently hebophillia has two meanings: an unnatural attraction to jail bait; smoking fetish and my publisher** could not figure out which meaning I intended to write about.

** I don't have a publisher you idiots. ***

*** sorry for calling you guys idiots and being mean to you today. but now that you are can read gracie just remember that I sent you the link unless of course you read about her somewhere else first and isn't it just like you to take EVEN that away from me?

**** I had this really long post about how after looking at my account balance I couldn't afford to make myself lasagna. I wrote that post along with this one, but blogger crashed on me twice and took with it everything I wrote. That is why you are getting this shitty/pissy post. I somehow deleted volume 20 of the podcast but if you want you can click on the Self HElp Podcast link under my blogs and see all 20 craptastic podcasts. Free packets of country gravy to anyone who can sit through all 20. You REALIZE that country gravy is TWICE as expesive as chicken or brown gravy, right?

* I don't have a problem with strippers. It is just that stippers are sexy and so grace gets to be sexy, smart and a good writer and I don't like how god gives some people all the stuff and gives me so little. I think if I meet god I will punch him in the face.

When I get skinny my internet girl friend will love me, until then I have you, and I don't need nuthin but a strip tease of lyrical bloggin to get u

I am writing this post at 1:30 in the am. Forget whatever the time stamp says at the bottom of this post. You can' t trust those things with me. I just cleaned my bathroom and did the dishes. I am in the middle of doing three loads of laundry, which is about all the laundry I have in the world. I drank two cokes today which is not as bad as it sounds to you as it about 10 fewer cokes than I drink most days.

I have a sudden burst of energy. I feel like I am only in my thirties today. Like I need to get something done. I want to do stuff and I don't know why. I have my headphones on and I am jamming to Metallica. I've been making up songs and singing them out loud, most of the stuff is rap style be-box. I wish I had thought of recording it for you, as you would be in on the little secret that I am a creative genius, and not just the most awesome blogger you know.

I think I will post comments to some of your blogs if get around to it. It's just I have not had a lot of spare energy to give out to you, and interaction with other people taxes my reserves. You would know that if you ever got around to reading the Meyers-Briggs profile I keep posting about myself. But today I have tons of extra energy and I want to share some of it with you- my brothers in blogging.

I think I have so much energy today because I am on a diet. I am eating healthier than normal, and I am avoiding as much extra sugar as I can. My Internet g/f is a fox and is a part of the glamorous set. Mixing with the beautiful crowd is not as easy as you might think even with a "get in free" pass for being her Internet boyfriend. My g/f wants me to lose thirty pounds for "health reasons" and she told me she will dump me if I gain even 5 more pounds.

I am filled with fear about gaining weight. Just recently I was up around 225 pounds. (ok 228) And that was with biking 30 minutes everyday to work and back. I stopped that shit as soon as I got the truck up and running so I have to double down on the not-eating.

I did that once when I was 18. I lost 30 pounds and got down to around 145 pounds. Back then You seriously could not catch me on the basketball court. I could shut you best player down with my intimidating style of defense. I get up in your face. You might beat me on occasion, but you could not match the intensity and energy I came with all game. I feel like that now. Like I don't need chocolate anymore. I am getting an eating disorder and I can't wait for the endorphins that get released from not eating. I think I will visit one of those internet Anorexia communities like thinspiration for some inspiration. I can't wait for my abs and my guns and my pecks to start popping. Then my internet g/f's girlfriends will be like "damn girl he turned out all hot and shit, way to go gurl!!"



When I get skinny and buff my Internet g/f won't have to be embarrassed of me, and I will take my shirt off at the beach, and I will volunteer to be skins when we play pick up basketball down at the park. I will stop getting picked last, and I will out rebound your ass on the low post. I don't care that you have 4 inches on me, and it won't matter that I have unusually short arms for my height. I will get the ball and I will make a move that you don't often see from a short white guy and you will have to explain your failure to score on me to your hot girlfriend who will probably masturbate to thoughts of me for going 4 for 4 on you. I feel sorry for you already.

Speaking of blogging, I can't wait to post my "Burn this Flag on Memorial Day" meme over at Bathos for the Misanthropic. I am headed over to Mesa tomorrow for a protest against The PREZ aka G.W. Bush. I think I will take my movie camera and maybe try and get a few pics of me burning flags and yelling at cops. Maybe I will get lucky and I will get a youtube worthy clip of me getting maced by some big ass storm trooper.

The government tells me to suck it on health care and white people are still ascared of a black man getting to be president

I pooped green today. It was the second time I pooped green in two weeks. I guess I have the AIDS. I don't eat lettuce or anything green, so I know it has nothing to do with my diet. My tummy feels crummy so maybe I just have a bug or something. I can't go to the doctor to make sure, because I don't have health insurance.

I applied to the state to get access to government run health care. I have spent the last two weeks in breathless anticipation waiting for an answer from DES to my application. In came in yesterdays mail and the answer is no. I make way too much money it seems. Anyone making more than 897 dollars a month won't get assistance in John McCain's state paying for health care.

I guess I will just have to wait for the free market to step in and do what is does best: take care of the lower class. In just a couple of months I will get health benefits from my employer. Hopefully I don't die of a bowel obstruction, or a bowel disorder before that. I stopped drinking beer and I limit myself to just a couple of cokes a day. So I have done my part as best I can. I say this because I am just wondering if anyone wants me to document my poop for them.

I know a lot of you don't believe me when I say I poop green. I can now take a picture of the poop, because I got a digital camera the other day. I could take photos and post them to the net is all I am saying. Maybe this idea won't take off, but if you still feel compelled to request proof from me I could e-mail you pictures of my poop whenever it turns green or yellow. I get no sexual satisfaction from this, if that is what you are thinking. I just want you people to take me seriously, and if e-mailing you pictures of my yellow and green poop is what it takes then so be it!

IF OBAMA THINKS WHITE PEOPLE ARE OVER SLAVERY HE NEEDS TO MEET SOME NEW WHITE PEOPLE

I get e-mails everyday from my step-parents. My step parents are the kinda people who think chain e-mails are funny. They also think I will stop being a member of the Communist Party (USA!) if I read a "fun fact" from talk radio. They think I will join the jesus lovers if I read a story about how angels rescued a puppy. They won't give up, just like my internet g/f won't give up the idea of selling me on puppies. I hate puppies more than I hate Rush Limbaugh. The only reason I visit youtube (other than all the teen girls dancing in the panties) is to watch soldiers toss puppies of cliffs. I find that sick shit funny and I won't apologize for it either. I guess you could say that makes me a dick, but not as big a dick as people who pass around those fake e-mails that claim that Obama is a Muslim who will start a race war if he gets elected.

My step parents sent me a couple of those e-mails and I finally got sick of it when the last one came with a link to scopes.com for fact checking it. So I went to Scopes at obama/muslim and the first thing I noticed was that scopes said there is a bunch of e-mails being sent around that are fake and not true.

You would think that would be the end of it. I mean I looked it up and showed my step units proof that the e-mail they sent was fake. But you'd be wrong. I don't normally put my real life in this blog. At least when I do I make sure to fictionalize it to protect the guilty. But I say fuck it today. * Let me just show you what the good white people really think about a black man running for president.

DAY 1 e-mail from STep DAd

DEAR ROMIUS [Not my real name, and yes the guy writes in all caps!]

HERE IS SOME INTERESTING READING. PICK ANY OF THEM AND CHECK IT OUT WITH SNOPES.COM OR WHEREVER YOU WANT.

DAY 2

my response is to email step daddy a link with this rather objective headline:

Report: Hoax Anti-Obama E-Mails Still Fool Dumb White Guys!

[haha I am funny!]

I added this commentary as well:

If you click on the link in the daily news (That liberal rag) it takes you to the snopes. com website and SNOPES ITSELF says the two different emails you sent me are fake (it quotes them and I looked over both that you sent me. )

Despite the paper being liberally biased (even biased fox news get things right on occasion)-I'm afraid that the two emails you sent are KNOWN fakes and not FROM SNOPES at all. One could tell simply from the tone of the e-mail that is would not come from Snopes as snopes writing style is more neutral and even-handed than what we read in the e-mails you passed along. HERE is the REAL link to SNOPES to OBAMA AND MUSLIMs the emails you sent me are false.

I have no doubt that you don't like OBAMA because he is a liberal and has differs in opinion on things like taxes etc., and not because of some silly e-mails you received; however, you are passing them along and must have thought they were of some importance.

I would hope after you read this you might pass the real snope.com link along.

Howver you sent me those e-mails. You did not send me refutations of his postiton. You sent me emails that are hoaxes, those hoaxes are going around the net claiming false things about Obama, which is why I sent you the the info on snopes via the daily news. I should have just sent you the original Snopes as you seem to trust them (BOTH of your previous emails contain SNOPES as a verifier of truth) I hope after you read the real snopes article your fears will be put to rest.

Regarding the Reverend Wright, I must assume that REV. HAGEE (MCCAIN"S PREACHER) and his zealous anti-semitism and racism is unknown to you. If not why would Obama's preacher's racism bother you more?

HAGEE is as bad if not worse on race (not to mention his anti-catholic stance). [This was written before the latest Hagee snafu about how god wanted Hitler to "persuade" the Jews to Isreal.]

Regarding your last email (AGAIN VERIFIED AS A HOAX AT SNOPES ) even if it were true -- politicians lie and politicians make their biography serve their desire for election. McCain has been around for a hundred years. I am sure their must be a million instances where he has misstated the truth (he can't tell the difference between Suni AL-queda and shiite Iran, but that is a different matter.)

If ethics were a concern for politicians then John McCain's involvement in the KEATING 5 would disqualify him from office. I can't see how he could get a job as a bank teller with ethical violations like that. I don't think any of those reasons are the real reasons you dislike Obama. I do not assume you are a racist either. {Very kind of me, no?}

However I think it is dangerous (I don't use that term lightly ) to send forwarded e-mails that attack the character of a person (running for office or not) in the manner that the e-mails I received from you and [redacted] did. They attack the man's patriotism and loyalty to the US. I find attacks like that highly offensive. The e-mails are hoaxes and wrong. The attacks are unwarranted and of an ethically dubious kind. In addition, I would not take the word of a forwarded emailer that snopes verified this stuff when I could check snopes myself. The email attacks were not of the kind that most politicians must face like "he supports a gas tax," but "he will give the muslim the bomb and kill all the white people" those kind of attacks should be vetted by you, because by forwarding them you have attached your good name to them. I know you would not want to be part of something like that.

DAY 3

STEP DADDY IS IN A BAD MOOD FROM MY LAST EMAIL:

I ONLY SENT IT TO YOU AND TOLD YOU THAT YOU CAN CHECK IT OUT. I DID NOT AND DON'T PUT SNOPES AS THE GOSPEL FOR ANYTHING SO I JUST THROWED IT OUT FOR YOU. I DID NOT KNOW IT WAS GOING TO CAUSE YOU TO GET YOUR DRAWERS IN A WAD. ERGO, WON'T BE SENDING MUCH YOUR WAY UNLESS IT'S FAMILY ORIENTED AND W/O POLITICS. YOU APPEAR TO BE MORE CONCERNED IN RESEARCHING THOSE THINGS THAN MAKING A DECENT CAREER FOR YOURSELF, (maybe if you stopped asking me to research stuff I would have time to get a real job!) SO HAVE AT IT AND I WISH YOU WELL.

I MEAN THAT SINCERELY. [nice touch] THAT SEEMS TO BE YOUR BAG.

WELL SAID AND I CONGRATULATE YOU, BUT I STILL DON'T TRUST THE MAN AND DISLIKE THE DEMOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY EVEN IF THEY WERE TRULY LIVING IT WHICH THEY ARE NOT. EVERYTHING ACROSS THE REP/DEM LINES ARE FOR SELF GAIN AND POWER AND NOT IN SUPPORT OF THOSE THAT VOTED THEM INTO OFFICE WHICH IS THE SCARIEST OF ALL THINGS. AT MY AGE, HAVING DONE A LOT FOR ALMOST 67 YEARS WITH A LOT OF HARD WORK, IT IS HARD TO SUPPORT ANY POLITICIAN, WHETHER IT BE DEM OR REP THAT WANTS TO GIVE A PORTION OF MY LIFE'S EARNINGS TO THOSE THAT DO NOT WANT TO ACHIEVE ANYTHING IN THEIR LIVES. RIGHT NOW, YOU FIT THAT BILL WITH YOU WILLINGNESS TO JUST "GET BY", AND MAKE NOTHING OF YOURSELF. YOU SAY I OFFENDED YOU, WELL, THE FACT THAT YOU ARE SO INTELLIGENT AND HAVE SO MUCH TO OFFER, YET DO NOTHING..............THAT OFFENDS ME. BEING WHAT YOU CALL POLITICALLY CORRECT DOES NOT EARN A PAY CHECK NOR DOES IT PROVIDE FOR THE FUTURE WHICH IS SOMETHING YOU SHOULD BE REALLY CONCERNED WITH ESPECIALLY AT YOUR AGE. WELL, THAT IS IF YOU WANT TO WORK IN MEDIOCRITY ALL YOUR LIFE, THEN I GUESS IT OK, BUT IT NEVER WAS FOR ME AND MILLIONS OF OTHERS. IF THIS OFFENDS YOU, THEN MAYBE THERE IS HOPE AND I KNOW YOU HAVE THE POTENTIAL OR I WOULD NOT HAVE OFFERED TO SEND YOU BACK TO SCHOOL.

NUFF SAID

Indeed sir.

I never responded back even though I meant to. I guess I should have pointed out to him that political correctness has nothing to do with calling a person a traitor, that it is just plain mean and libelous. But I was too busy eating ice cream.

Self Help Center Podcast #19

Here is another podcast for you to ignore. I guess it's a good thing I waste so much of my valuable time on creating this podcast, because I know you all love to hear me read things to you that you have already read. The Internet g/f thinks my voice is "creepy" so she refuses to listen to the podcast, I can't think what your excuse could be. Are you too poor to afford an i-pod? How can you afford a computer and internet service then?

Speaking of poverty, in addition to my time as a correspondent over at the Needs of the Few, I am interning over at Hell's Leading newspaper the Daily Brimstone where I am the official Arizona economy reporter giving you updates about how John McCain will ruin the American economy, or at least turn all of America in to the dry desert I call home. Today's temperature is 109 degrees, so I guess I should ask the boys over in Hell to 'dial it down a bit' as I don't think I need to actually feel the fires of hell to intern with you.

I think I will just have to say fuck mother earth today and drive the 2 miles to work. Either that or I will need to by new underwear every week. I am not sure which is worse for the Earth, but smelly underwear is not how I got myself 6 spirit wives.

The Self Help Center reveals the SHC guide to Getting yourself the internet boyfriend you've always wanted

recently I discovered that I have a mild form of dyslexia. My dyslexia does not occur to me when I read, but only when I write and sometimes when I talk. If you noticed it on this blog before I mentioned it, kudos. If now that you are aware of it, you sense it in every sentence i WRITE, and hold your breath in anticipation of every word you read, I apologize. But enough about my troubled mind.

THE SELF HELP GUIDE TO SECURING YOURSELF AN INTERNET BOYFRIEND

You say you want a boyfriend. But you are shy, or maybe you are just hideous to the eyes of men-folk. You assume this rightly because no man asks you out on dates, and because you sit alone in the room which was your Aunt's attic until she died. And now that room is yours with its ancient sewing machines and it's dial up internet access.

Be aware that if you follow my program, you will indeed get yourself an internet boyfriend. Not too long from now, you will realize that you have traded in the safety of solitude for the adventures to be found by dating, a man. If you continue on this path (which is so set in your heart that I will not be able to dissuade you from it) then many things will happen to you, and most of them will be unexpected, and nearly all of them will be ungood, but I trust that is what you want and I will make sure you get what you want.

Here is what most of you do when searching for an internet b/f:

Go to yahoo.com and download messenger.
Sign on as a female.
Do nothing else.

You will not get an internet b/f if you do this. What you will find instead is men who are ready to send you pictures of their genitalia. If you want to get an internet boyfriend there are better ways of going about it than the clumsy amatuerism of internet personal ads. Some of my ways include you cultivating yourself to be presentable. Do not take the easy way out on this. Do not take pictures of yourself from flattering angles that hide your embarrassing size.

A quick fix to your obesity is a starvation diet. It does wonders for a thick booty and ankles. And it is not as difficult as it seems. All it requires is that you do not eat. For the first few hours after not eating your body will send some annoying signals to you in the form of stomach grumbling and light headedness. Ignore those signals and you will fast find yourself on the way to becoming skinny.

Ignore my advice by refusing to become skinny and all the men you ever have sex with will not think about you when they penetrate you, rather they will think about your 'prettier' sister, or cousin, or their last g/f or the baseball game on TV. They will peer at your imperfections and be disgusted. They will notice cellulite where you cannot see it and hence never knew it existed. They will hold these secret thought inside them and they will use them to justify as an excuse any betrayal and any indiscretion the heap upon you. I will not tolerate this. I will not allow you to do this to yourself.

RELAX YOUR ROMANTIC VISION OF LOVE

Men do not think about you as a person with a soul. Men are unable to draw the distinction between outward beauty and inward beauty, so it is best to make sure that your outside matches the winner you are on the inside.

I know some of you will object and suggest that you "know men" who do not behave this way. Those are not real men and you should cease any contact you have with those homosexuals as that kind of vice is punished by god and he patrols that sin with a watchfulness that is eternal and unmitigated.

I have no idea how long you should starve yourself as I do not have any idea how fat you are. But you will know when you can begin to eat carrots again because men make it known to you if you are attractive. Search their eyes for lust. Seek out the men who hunger for you because they are wolves and will devour your flower and will you leave you with nothing else if you are lucky.

Google is a valuable search engine in your quest to find an internet boyfriend. You can find many of the things including the men you want on it. Type in your browser the qualities and the things you find secretly attractive. Do not type the things your mother or brother would have you believe are valuable in mates. Type in the things that make you quiver at night. Type "blog" after you enter the characteristics of men that you want and you will find a blog run by a person with all those sentiments.

Be Patient.

First, you must start by reading his blog. I would start at the beginning, but since you are a women you will start at the end. Work backwards. Leave comments on his blog, but only authentic ones. Do not force them. Let the comments come naturally. This could take some time. In the best case scenario, I would say two to three years. But it could take longer and I see no reason for you to grow angry with me because you did not allow the natural process of this program to work its way out. I will entertain no request for refunds from you regarding my program that "insures you get your internet boyfriend" until you have surpassed year 4.

REMOVE YOURSELF FROM ALL MALE COMPANY

Include any of the previous Jackals you allowed to ravage you. They present themselves as possible mates. But they are wrong for you. If you are married you should get divorced, or at least move away from him. Do not allow unknown single men to open doors for you. This will get in the way of needed calorie consumption on your part, and may invite strangers to consider you easy prey.

E-MAIL AND CHAT IS FOREPLAY FOR PHONE SEX / phone sex is foreplay for actual foreplay which should be used as little as possible as it is not real sex and men like real sex.

Once you have gotten the male in question to notice you, begin to email him. At first allow the e-mails to be about the blog, or the comments that you have made.

Next, make inquires into his "real life." Pepper your comments with a sexy attitude. Start your own blog and publish stories about oral sex. Men love oral sex and men love women who promise oral sex to them. Be prepared to deliver the oral sex for at least as long as it takes for him to propose moving in with you and then get him to promise to do the laundry before you stop all oral sex (except for your own requests for oral stimulation which you should couch "as actually needed" as his penis is too small to reach your cervical cavity or g-spot.)

Third, try instant messaging. Anytime he is online make sure you notice and interrupt his searches for pornography. Cyber sex is not a substitute for sex, so as quickly as you can proceed to phone sex.

Try not to remember anything your man tells you during phone sex. The male brain is equipped for higher levels of stimulation than your female oriented brain. It is important that you do not judge men on their fantasies or their sex talk.

Men are very sensitive about sex talk with women and are constantly in fear that they will offend the "weaker" sex. If you show any offense you will be labeled as a prude and as feminist. Men do not like women who's response to sex is one of judgementalism or moral objection. If you have any morality or taboos left it is acceptable to seek out the help of a Jackal to relieve you of any such concepts. They will devour you and spit you out. You may feel used, but you will be ready to accept the loving embrace of your new boyfriend all the better.

After Cyber Sex and Phone Sex you should consider relocating to your new b/f's hometown. Unless you will lose a great deal of money. In that case allow your b/f to move in with you, but be aware that it takes time to adjust to a new city and make resumes. Finding a job could take several years. Do not allow him to rush the process as it will only lead to long term emotional instabilty and unhappiness for you. Remember, you asked him to move for you. The least you can do is be there for him during this stressful period. I would suggest you allow him an asian massage, to relieve him of any undue stress, but if you have reached this point in the program then I think I hardly need to suggest that to you as it would have come into your conciousness of its own accord.

I bet you want to be internet famous, because being internet famous is the new thing, and by internet famous I mean famous for 10 people like me

It's just another Friday night for you and even though all I might be doing right now is spooning down delicious fudge pudding (I'm on my second cup) I am still way cooler than you, because I am internet famous. Internet famous is the new 15 minutes and everybody, that means you Mr. Andy Warhol, wants a peice of it.

I have always wanted to be internet famous. I wrote this post to tell you how to become internet famous. It's easy to become internet famous, because all being internet famous means is that you are famous for 10 people. 10 people think I am famous and that makes me internet famous, but even though I am internet famous, I still have to do my own dishes.

I may do my own dishes and I may stay home on Friday nights and eat all the fudge pudding in my refrigerator. But I met a girl on the internet and she is really hot and one day I will go visit her and I will ask her to be my internet girlfriend.

I sense you are all jealous of my life, with my newly acquired drivers license, a possible internet g/f on the horizon, the random suspensions from work- for being tardy, freeing me up for all kinds of time to write on my book, which if ever published will freak you out big time. Frieda Bee will finally be forced to deliver on her promise to write literary theory about me. With all that's finally going right, something even more tremendous happened to me today...

I GOT RECOGNIZED

That's right. I got recognized for the first time as an internet celebrity. And just like with sex, the first time is special and important. I will treasure the memory of that moment always.

The thing about me is I care about my fans. If a fan is lucky enough to find me at work, I will stop working (and risk getting fired) to listen to them tell me how great I am. Because I know, for you, getting the chance to finally tell me how great I am is what you live for, and I can't think of anything better than you getting to meet me, since I never get to meet people as cool as me, but you did, so kudos to you.

THE SELF HELP GUIDE FOR THINGS TO WATCH OUT FOR WHEN BEING INTERNET FAMOUS AND BY INTERNET FAMOUS I MEAN FAMOUS FOR TEN PEOPLE

(subtitled:)

BEING INTERNET FAMOUS IS EASY. How to GET interNET famous:

All you have to do to get internet famous is write a blog for like 5 years and sooner or later like 10 people will think you are ok and will maybe get around to like subscribing to your RSS feed or something, but probably not, probably they just read whatever finds it way to your myspace blog even though your myspace blog is not your real blog, but nobody you know wants to read your real blog, and that was the whole reason you had to start your podcast, because people are too lazy to read and even those fans who listen to your podcast will be too lazy or uncommitted to submit it to Digg.com. So you really have no chance to be famous any other way than on the internet where your 10 internet fans can have you all to themselves.

If you do get internet famous I bet none of your readers will visit your archives, so don't worry about editing any of your old stuff, because nobody looks at it anyway. It also does not pay to try and grow as a writer because your readers have already pigeon holed you into a category and they don't want to read any of your new characters, especially if those characters tend to make you look gay because you are writing from a different gender's point of view and writing from a different gender is not as easy as it seems so maybe people should just give you a chance to work things out and stop being so judgemental and stuff, but I can bet ya that's not gonna happen.

Don't worry if you don't feel inspired all the time to write. You won't want to, and you shouldn't have to. Even if you make promises to blog a new entry everyday, don't worry, your failure to do so will never get noticed by any of your fans. If you get inspired to write by meeting a fan, go ahead and write, just don't give them any shout outs because inspiring you to write is what fans are for. And if you can't take crap out on your fans then I can't see any point to getting famous.

Other than the money and the respect, but internet celebrity of this sort does not come with cash or respect, so take what you can by dumping on as many people as possible before they get wise to you and take off for some other inter-loser.

If you get internet famous you just might be able to turn that celebrity cache into getting yourself an internet girlfriend. Getting an internet girlfriend is a big decision though, and should not be entered into lightly, but with proper consideration and Romius T.'s helpful advice you too can have an internet girlfriend with all the benefits they have to offer and almost none of the drawbacks.

THE SELF HELP GUIDE TO GETTING YOURSELF AN INTERNET G/F? LOL> ROFL ETC. ETC.

Internet girlfriends are not a lot different than other girlfriends in the sense that they are women, and since they are women you can assume that they have the same limitations, expectations, and drawbacks as other women you might meet in real life, only they are on the internet so they probably have a few more quirks and by 'quirks' I mean many of the girls you will meet on the internet are ladymen (some come with nice boobs-nice enuff to make you forget that they also come with a penis), and the ones that aren't ladymen just got released for the third time from the sanitarium, where they learned that water coloring is a good way to deal with stress, and they try not to deal with stress the way they learned from their mommas, and that is by burning shit up in the middle of an apartment complex.

I think I just gave you a good idea for a birthday present for your internet g/f. A massive set of water colors. And don't forget to have the fire department on speed dial, because a recent meta analysis conducted on water color therapy concluded that water therapy is crap, besides your internet girlfriend is not about to take all her prescribed medication.

I mean I am sure for the first few weeks she will be like "I love the Prozac!" and all, but who really wants to deal with the weight gain and the calm moods that Prozac brings, when you can just light stuff on fire?

Internet girlfriends never live in the same state as you do so that means you have to save money to go see them otherwise you will never get any of the sex you are hoping for and really don't men want relationships just so they can have sex?

That might be a stereotype of male behavior so I would not read to much into that, because as you know I get away with making outrageous claims like that, because what I do here is satire so don't take things so seriously and by that I mean I think I just got myself in trouble with my (one day I hope!!) internet g/f so you can see how prickly they can be.

Internet g/f's are expensive, but so are real girlfriends and real girlfriends are hard to find or you wouldn't be on the internet looking for an internet g/f.

WHAT ARE SOME OF THE AWESOME THINGS ABOUT INTERNET GIRLFRIENDS?

The internet is full of beautiful women who have posted their pics on myspace or flicker. Your internet g/f can steal one or more of those pictures and then present it to you like the picture is really her. Then for the first time in your life you can say you are dating a really hot chick, and your FIRL's (friends in real life) can be totally jealous of you, and that is a feeling I bet you would like to have at least once before you die.

Watch out for Internet girl friends as they usually have a lot of free time on their hands, so you better too, because they will always be up for a conversation at the wee morning hours. But talking to a internet girl is as close as you can get to talking to a real girl, and I bet you don't have anything better going on in the morning anyway, so maybe talking to her is not such a bad idea after all.

I normally have more than a few bad ideas when I date a chick. Like I like to make up stories about them. You can't do that with a real girlfriend. They get pissy about that sort of thing. But you can make up all kinds of stories to your co-workers about your internet g/f, because she will never meet them.

Again, I don't advise you to make up stories about a real life g/f as she might want to meet your friends and she will totally try and bust you on all your stories.The best thing about internet g/f's is that no matter how much your internet g/f wants to meet your mom or your friends she probably lives a few thousand miles away, so she will never be able to bust you with your story telling, so I say go for it! I like to tell folks that my internet g/f's are candy strippers, or motel chambermaids in Moscow.

Sometimes I go exotic and tell how my women are former burlesque dancers from Laos. The more exotic the story you tell the better, because anybody that is impressed that you have an internet g/f is bound to believe that you really are a secret agent who met your gal pal on the road to Damascus and never questions you with the fact that Damascus is no where near Russia. Of course the whole "road to Damascus" thing may go over their heads too, but you like feeling superior to your friends and they like that you know answers to almost half the questions you hear on Jeopardy.

I get creepy eyes from the swinger couple who drink way too much wine, I discover old people like them some donuts

Here are some random observations about my customers:

Old People Like Donuts

old people like donuts
and other than kids
I never see anyone else
buying donuts.

I wonder what will become of donut shops when all the old people die.

I get stalked by a couple of Swingers

I thought swinging died in the 70's like the American dream. But swinging didn't die, it just reinvented itself under its new name "the lifestyle."

There is a middle aged couple who shop at my grocery store nearly everyday. I know they drink way too much wine because they buy two big bottles every time they shop. They always make the same excuse that they have "company over" and are "entertaining." They both have that artificial boomer glow. They get a long of sun and so are way too tan. They always look like they are on vacation. The husband always wears shorts to the store. I don't think the man owns a pair of trousers. Their faces are rose colored from the burst capillaries like those of an advanced alcoholic or maybe a hobo from the great depression, and I am sure they are both potheads. The wife is so glassy eyed it's spooky to stare at her to long. The wife wears low cut tops and is heavily freckled from tanning, so I want to stare a bit.

They are nice. Way too nice. They thank me endlessly for bagging their groceries or swiping their store credit card so I can save them some money. They call me by my name and make a point of not looking at my name tag as they say it. They both speak to me in the sing song voice of a cult member. Everything is shiny. Everything is fun. "Everything is happier here." Their voices tell me. Maybe I can meet them for a drink sometime. Maybe I would enjoy one of their famous dinner parties. The lifestyle. It beckons.

Is it bad in America when people use Coinstar to pay for Top Ramen?

You can tell people are feeling the recession these days. Almost 30% of my customers use food stamps to pay for their items. Many people use coins and coupons to buy Top Ramen. I know people are doing what it takes to stretch their budgets and I am the last guy who wants to make fun of you, if you are buying Ramen with money from your coin jar.

But I don't understand the a couple last night that bought 200 dollars worth of grocery items, but they only had 66 dollars. The guy bought a water filter for 20 dollars, and then he tried buying groceries for the week. Basic math is essential here. He seemed genuinely surprised that you can't buy the entire store for 60 dollars. Hasn't he heard food prices are up?

Today's poop watch is green with a side of nuts. I avoid another dog attack. My feud with the Drunken Stepfather continues.

I make sure to write down how often I take a green shit because I am hyper paranoid about dying. Just like this site is dying, now that I have been banned in the forum by the folks at Drunken Stepfather. Not that this site was going anywhere before that. But I am down to less than a hundred hits a day and most of those look at one page before realizing they can waste their time better someplace else.

I think my poop was green because I drank a Sobe with Acerola and Hiprose at work yesterday. Acerola has lots of iron which can turn your shit green. Also I had one of those Fiber 1 bars with 9 grams of added fiber. The added fiber comes in the form of some kind of Mayan Root, and who knows maybe that gives you green bowel movements too. All I know is I topped it off with a bowl of chili so I will be constipated tomorrow I bet. I can tell you that my tummy had been hurting today, and that I had a terrible case of acid-reflux yesterday, and now I feel like a bad case of the diarrhea coming on.

I had to eat left over chili because I rode the bike down to the local Mexican eatery for a burrito, but for some reason the mexican food place only serves cars at their late night drive thru now. They used to have their diner open all night and it was a great place to meet drunk chicks. So I had to pedal back home without my beef/been combo burrito.

On the way home I saw a large black dog at the end of the block. I was hungry but not hallucinatory, so I decided I better ride all the way around the block to get home.

I can't pay the doctor bill for a rabies shot as I have no idea if I have been approved yet for government health care. I got a letter back that said they received my application and that it was being forwarded to the proper eligibility auditor to determine if I was indeed eligible. I tried calling the auditor but I was put on hold all day and I don't have a case number so I can't use the automated system to find anything out either. I guess I am just going to do what most people do when confronted by the massive red tape and tyranny of the state. I will wait and see and hope for the best.

I had hoped for the best when it comes to resloving my feud withe the drunken stepfather, but then he posted a rather sad blog entry about how wonderful his fans are on his forums. He said something like even though all the haters of his site think he is a misogynistic asshole his fans are sweet to all the girls who visit the forum.

when I asked a girl about it she said that unlike all other forums, the guys on it are actually nice to the girls. It’s funny that the site gets slated as a misogynist site that hates on and objectifies women, when in reality all I do is hate on an objectify sluts who are already objectifying themselves

Personally I like all the hating on girls that Jesus does. I will always be a fan of the D.S., but I thought he was kinda pathetic, sucking up to his 5 forum based fans is pretty sad. Those forum guys can't get a guy like jesus. They can't take a joke because they don't realize that they are banning me for posting the same kind of thing that their 'hero' Jesus Martinez does all day. I say this because I need to warn my readers that the forum over at Drunken Stepfather thinks this site is a pedophiles site and that is why they banned me and that is why they took down their link to my site.

So by extension you, my readers, are all chomo's too, and if you don't take that personally I will. I mean I know some of you really are pedophiles, but some of you sublimated that desire to have kids, and if your ex found out you visited this site he might try and take them away from you, which might be a good thing for the kids, but it would have a devastating impact on your psyche. And I don't like having that kind of blood on my hands, so maybe (just maybe) you need to tell the pussies who run the forum at Drunken Stepfather that this site is not a haven for child lovers, but is just a good old fashioned place where I can post totally legal pictures of jail bait you can jack off to in the darkened corner of your basement. Nobody needs to know about your dirty secrets. And you can count on me to do whatever it takes to make sure that nobody will.