I neglet my audience

Some guy just knocked at the door. He woke me out of bed even though it was way after 12 pm in the afternoon. I thought about opening the door for him, but I did not have any clothes on, so I just watched him knock weakly at my door through the peep hole until he left, because that's the kind of guy I am.

I told you that story because I did not want you to think you are the only people I neglect. I neglect just about everything in my life and just about everybody I know. I know I've neglected you lately, and by neglecting my audience I don't mean not posting for a few days. I know you did not notice that. You probably enjoyed the break from me talking about my intestinal track and the strange discolored bowels movements it produces regularly. No I am talking about my review of the movie Sex and the City.

I designed this websites appeal to target an audience of 16 year old boys. I targeted 16 year old boys for the same reason all marketers target 16 year old boys. They are the number 1 market for disposable income in America.

I know a lot about advertising. I worked for an advertising company for 4 years before getting fired from it. I got fired because I showed up late to work all the time, and by late I mean I think I had 15 one minute tardies. I know what you are thinking, "You get fired a lot." I do. But I also got to have sex with one of the girls I worked with there, so I call it even.

I did not get interested in advertising just because I got laid at an advertising company. I've always been interested in Advertising. Ever since I was a little kid watching reruns of Bewitched. I wanted to grow up to be Darren Stevens and marry a hot blond witch and make up advertising slogans. My love for advertising was the main reason I started watching 30 something and is one of the reasons I love watching the best show on TV right now, Mad Men. So if you know where I can find season 2 on the internet let me know. I don't have cable so I have missed at least half of this seasons episodes.

I tell you all this so you can understand that my decision to post the video (below) of a young Miley Cryus riding around on her bicycle with her girl/pretty boyfriend to go get ice cream needs to be seen as a strategy from my marketing side. And if that does not convince you that I am not a pervert then you can tell yourself that I am the blogger version of French movies. I am all about coming of age stories and young love.



IF you know anything about French film you know what perverts the French are.



The modern world is absurd. Take the movie Water Lillies for instance. The director of this film lives a pretty good life in France. He has health care and critics who adore him for shooting scenes that are considered kiddie porn here in the USA. If you play the video you won't need to stream the movie on Netflix because you will have seen all the good parts of the movie.

The preview does not have any dialogue because there is not a lot of dialogue in the movie. Most of the dialogue consists of background noise while the camera focuses lovingly on the budding cleavage of its 15 year old stars. I think YouTube has at least 10 clips of the movie and that is because pedophiles use YouTube as a jack off portal the way you use google to stalk your ex boyfriend.

I am sure the film director is the media darling of France while I am shunned by the mainstream media in America all because I write fan fiction for Miley Cyrus.

Sex and the Grocery store, or My creativity explodes whenever I am away from you

I felt dead at work yesterday. I went through the motions of scanning your groceries only because I need money and because this blog costs a fortune to run. I use all my spare income to make sure I have access to the internet so you can get your 13 seconds worth of entertainment out of this blog every day.

I was in the shower and I came up with a 15 minute rant about how I hate my life, but I can't remember a word of it.

I can't remember the idea I had for a new character for this blog either.

I came up with the character yesterday at work after I finally stopped feeling sorry for myself. I know it had something to do with customers walking up to me and whispering things to me like how they have fake tits, or how the itch cream they buy is not really for themselves, but I can't remember much of that either, so I guess you will just have to put up with what you are getting creatively from this blog which may not be that great, but it sure beats thinking about your life.

***
MEET EMMA THE GREETER!

One of the greeters at my store got very excited yesterday. It is her job to open the pharmacy for all the sluts people who want to buy condoms when the pharmacy closes at 7 pm. After opening the sliding glass door she rushed over to tell me that the, "black guy who just bought condoms bought the LARGE condoms!"

I told her it was no surprise as black men have larger genitals than the Italian men she has known her whole life. Despite what Italian men say, most Italians are short, and any guy under 5 foot 9 has a small dick. That's why women love tall men. They are betting that what is below matches how high they are on top.

I also told her it was no use crying over spilled milk and the 60 years she spent bedding small dicked men probably made her incapable of taking a young black buck like the boy she brought the condoms to.

That's when she changed the subject and asked me about my penis and wondered if my readers knew about my size. She made a joke about me having a pencil dick and I told her I drew the line at 60 year old women using the term "pencil dick" in front of me. I also told her that I had a wide ribcage and that while I might be heavy, none of the fat collects around my ribs so she could trust that I was thick where it counted.

She wondered whether I chatted dirty online.  I told her I talked dirty all the time and she cracked a joke that she was actually my long time internet girl friend.

She also wanted to know if there were any laws against talking dirty online.  I told her that the only law against talking dirty online is talking to under aged girls, or the cops who pretend to be underage to get you arrested.   Which pretty much dries up all the possibilities of dirty talk on the Internet.

You can't talk to teen girls about sex because you will go to jail, even though teen girls are the your first choice, and the only girls confident enough in their sexuality to do so. And by confident in their sexuality, I mean they have low self esteem and enough daddy issues that you can take advantage of them.

Older women are super horny too, but they always want to send you pics of their saggy tits for you to jack off on. And the furious masturbation it takes for me to ejaculate on a printout of your saggy tits rips the skin off my dick.

All that furious masturbation, just so I can send you a still picture of the white goo that I have dribbled onto your face pic, so that you can post it (along with all the other ones) to your RedPorn profile. Which I guess somehow confirms for you that men still find you attractive, and I guess enables you to have your middle aged orgasm, which sounds a lot more like a dying mule than the sexy purr of a women with a functioning uterus.

My review of the Sex and the City Movie should be read by men too

I had no plans to talk about what I wrote today.

Today's post was supposed to be another "I feel sad and lonely because the world acts indifferent* to me."

I was depressed all day yesterday, but then I watched The Sex and the City movie and I felt better. Not because a good cry gets rid of bad hormones, but because I knew there were millions of women waiting around to see this movie, and I could feel sorry for them.



I don't know if a woman wrote Sex and the City, but I do know that the movie could only appeal to a woman.

Whenever I doubt my masculinity I watch movies like Sex and the City to reconnect with my manhood.


I don't understand women. 

I don't know how you connect to these lame fantasies of BIG romantic love. I just don't see exactly what Carrie Bradshaw sees in Mr. Big. Other than the obvious inference that is so subtly hinted at. He is rich, tall, and I guess "big" for a white guy.

Mr. Big is emotionally unavailable. He dumps Carrie at the alter (though in his defense he said it was 'his bad' and he would still go ahead with the ceremony where upon Carrie then proceeds to have a melt down and refuses to go walk down the aisle with Big which makes the whole thing her fault in my opinion.)

The best thing about the movie was how Big and Carrie decided to get married.

Carrie was trolling for security, or at least a part of ownership in the condo they just bought. Mr. Big wanted to keep his little sex toy, and the hundred pairs of shoes he bought her. They decide to get married rather than Big just offering to let Carrie live in the apartment if they break up. I though the offer was realistic, but stupid on Mr. Big's part.

The writers have an obvious contempt for Mr. Big because he never gets any good lines. He has the 'smoothness' of a dull razor blade dragged across a hairy pimpled ass. He never says anything witty. He was not profound or deep like some of Carrie's other suitors. I don't see why Carrie would leave Aiden for this guy. I guess women like their men Cave man like. All action and no talky. That's probably because they get all the 'talky' they need from their friends.

The most annoying thing about this movie was the number of times the screen had to show the "fab 4" throwing up their hands and screaming at each other like a bunch of 12 year olds because it had been 3 days since they had last seen each other.

I suppose you could make a case for them screaming every time they saw "Samantha" because ostensibly she had moved to California. Despite the move, Samantha was in every scene of the movie and every scene of the movie began with her "surprise" visit and the girls throwing their hands in the air and screaming for the thousandth time, "aOH my gosh I can't believe you are back in New York!"

The movie ends with Big and Carrie getting married at a small justice of the peace ceremony and with more arm waving screaming by the girls and the silent puking of Carrie and Samantha after they noticed that the producers had them eating at a KFC in the final scene to show how "real" the girls are and how they are totally not stuck up fahionistas who only care about the "scene" of a wedding and want nothing to do with living up to the vows of making the coffee in the morning because it is cold and serving me beer when the game is on.

The other sound you heard was me puking on my t-shirt a little because I just gave 2 hours and 28 minutes of my life to this movie. I guess I was overcome with the knowledge that The Sex and the City movie was the number one movie on my NetFlix queue.

Snuggles,
Romius T.

*Don't worry that post is coming. I call it The world as Will and Indifference. I think I might play off the whole The World as Will and Representation. You should probably read a little Schopenhauer to bone up.

I try to explain why I am the Sarah Palin of the blogosphere

I work late today. I won't start work until 6 p.m. Which means I have plenty of time to post a blog entry for you. I know you can't tell from reading them, but most days it takes me a good 2 hours to write a blog entry.

Some of you have been lucky enough to stumble upon one of the rough drafts I write rather than the finished project. I usually post "the rough draft" to see what it looks like "live" on the blog. I then go back and read the draft 6 or 7 times. I try to catch basic grammar and spelling mistakes and fix them before most of you read the draft and assume that the rough draft is the final version. The whole process can take an hour or two. So you can see that I am putting way more effort into than you think.

I try not to make it look like I don't work hard at this blog because I know it just adds to your conception that I am somehow a genius who just cranks this stuff out without trying so you "just know" that someday when I start trying this blog will take off and all the talent I am hiding from the world will be finally showcased for all to see.

I hate to break it to you, but I work hard on this blog. Harder than you have a right to expect from me. I know I tell you from time to time that I don't make the effort to edit this blog, but that's because if you saw how much effort it takes for me to make one post you would admire my determination for the first time, but you would come to realize that my dogged efforts are in vain.

So don't trust me when I say I don't take time to edit this blog. The truth is I take the time to edit. I am just too lazy or stupid to locate all the mistakes I make, and that makes me insecure, because some of you are smart enough to catch them, and then I worry that my dyslexia makes me look stupid.

You think I don't have dyslexia because I don't make some of the classic mistakes that dyslexics make. But you are wrong. I have a strange case of dyslexia where I sometimes place 'the predicate before the subject' like I was speaking in Chinese or something even though my Mom is not Chinese and my parents hate foreigners.

I make the same mistakes when I talk to people in person, and if you have ever had the displeasure of speaking to me, you probably noticed how I placed words in strange places during our conversation. I am shy and uncomfortable around people, but I can fake being outgoing by making outrageous comments. If you are around me long enough you might notice that I am slightly autistic with a case of the Asperger Syndrome.

I don't get dyslexic when I am on one of my rants, or when I am making use of one of my funny voices, or during short bursts when I cast my sardonic insults at you, which is why I usually just stick to making fun of people, because making fun of people allows me to release the tidal wave of my intellect, like clitoral stimulation releases the frothy mixture of sweat and vagina juices from your swollen pussies.

But ask me a question and try to get me to tell you something in a straight forward logical way and I will end up sounding a lot like Sarah Palin at a news conference with Katie Couric. Which is one of the reasons I never jumped on the bandwagon like the rest of you and assumed that Palin isn't smart because when questioned she gets flustered and starts vocalizing all over the map. Maybe Sarah is just Autistic like me which I guess explains why she has all those mongrel children.

Not that I am defending Sarah Palin mind you. I figure she has an I.Q. around 110 which is pretty normal for a somewhat college educated white woman. Sarah is about as smart as the women I meet at community college which is to say not very bright. On the other hand if you give her the answers she might be able to follow along with you as you explain concepts like "exceptionalism."

Not that she'd retain any of that knowledge in any useful way other than maybe being able to select the correct answer in a multiple choice test. She would not be able to use complex scientific theories or philosophical ideas to interpret the world, and those ideas could never inform her world view. She is stuck with "common sense" and digestible forms of tautological nonsense which make sense only in hindsight and who's wisdom offer us only truisms.

That is why the average 'man in the street' loves her (well that and her big tits) because she is using the same dimheaded lamp post to guide her thinking that most people do.



If Sarah had paid attention in school she would not have to be told by her handlers that Africa is a continent, and maybe she could have gotten around to trying to memorize some of the names of the leaders of that large country (er, continent) instead of trying to digest a lot of basic information that smart people know without trying.

I am not sure how I got sidetracked into talking about Sarah Palin, (I added the title to this blog post after I got sidetracked and the sidetrack became the post) but I guess it was because I thought you might like to know what it would be like to talk to me in person. And since we all know the character of "Sarah" you can have a good mental image of my communication style. Only all the words and sentences I would spit out at you Turret's Syndrome style would be connected to the point I am making, and all the facts I would use would be true, if just a little exaggerated for effect.

The whole point of this post being that I take a lot of time out of my life for you. Time that is rarely appreciated by you, or returned in favor. I never get credit for all my hard work just because you can can crank out a 2 page post in under 30 minutes. You can't conceive that something you read that only sounds like the verbal drippings from my stream of consciousness has to be made orderly and functional. "Orderly and functional." See I tend to repeat adverbs and stuff like Sarah does. Only when I write this stuff down can I catch some it and fix it. I think I will leave some of the stuff in in to get my point across to you and so you don't think this is just another example of my hypochondria going wild.

I'm having a hard time remembering what the hell this post was going to be about.

***

I drank a coke today for breakfast. In the past month I have had 2 cokes and 2 sprites. I was not worried about coke until today. Today's coke was quite good and I have to go pour myself an iced tea or I will be hooked on the caffeinated stomach acid juice again.

Lord help me. But I drank a glass of tea and I am ok. No more coke.

Looking for the "Big Score"

I was cleaning around the house today. Whenever I clean I listen to my Mp3 player through my home stereo. I can do this because I bought a special adapter and I know how to connect the adapter to my stereo. I am cool like that.

One of the songs I listened to while I washed dishes told me that I should, "stop scheamin, and lookin hard." I have to agree with the song. I need to quit contemplating so much.

I only contemplate the Big score when I get bored or broke. I like to think of ideas that could make me rich or live the exciting life I am told to crave.

Maybe I could sell government secrets to the Soviets like Sean Penn does in the Falcon and the Snowman. Only I wouldn't be a dumbass like Sean Penn's character. I would live in the same apartment. I would drive the same car. I might get a better sound system for the truck. I might wear some nicer clothes, but nothing flashy. I'd stick to Levi 567's. I would not go out of my way to attract any attention.

But after I contemplated my life as a super spy I noticed that for all the risk and anxiety the life of a secret agent would give me the only difference in my life would be new speakers and six or 7 pairs of shoes.

I figure if I got a second job or donated blood I might be able to afford the cost of those items, so for now the government is safe and its secrets are secure.

Since I am not the flashy type (I am too paranoid to be) I think I may have to rethink this whole "big score" idea. I mean it sounds a good gig when you first think about it, and it would probably relieve my boredom, but I am not sure it is worth the effort.

I tried to think of things to do on my day off:

• go hiking at South Mountain
• go to a bookstore
• go drinking
• visit friends
• shop at thrift stores
• got to a movie
• eat out and read the paper
• work out at the gym
• go for a walk

Thing I did.

• bought BBQ sauce for my pulled beef BBQ in a crock pot from the Mexican food store
• started BBQ in
• made ice tea
• did the dishes
• ran dish washer
• tried to call honey smacks
• scrubbed 96.7% of rust stains off new stove
• unplugged microwave from wall to save electricity and mother earth
• vacuumed a bit
• ate lasagna from a can
• checked the mail
• walked out on balcony and looked at the sun and sky
• subscribed to Netflix for 2 months at the one video at a time plan for $8.99, giving me one fewer reason to leave the house as the plan comes with unlimited instant viewing of Netflix's online catalog
• watched the China Syndrome (**** of 5 stars!) And the Falcon and the Snowman (not done watching, still have an hour to go. kinda slow and I am in the mood for a sci-fi movie or a comedy or something with more action.)

I should record a few podcasts tonight. I may not. But I will think about it and feel guilty if I don't. Which is good. Not that it matters. Since I have recorded only one podcast in the past couple of months my downloads have dried up. I am on pace for around a hundred downloads instead of the 300 I had a few months ago.

The podcast is dying and so is this blog. I am no longer getting 30 return visitors a day. I am back to around 10. I guess for awhile all my posting attracted people to see what the fuss was all about. But after reading me for a month or so they figured out why I am not famous and why all my blog friends have more readers and hits than me, because they are so much better at blogging, and some of them seem to care about their audience, and they actually know how to write, so I guess that makes things easy for them.

All I have to say about that is while the landscape of this blog is as dry as your 50 year old vagina I am not going to be too upset over it. Like you I am just going to sit at home and eat my way to an emotionally satisfactory place. My mail had a company newsletter that bragged about how someof our associates are good people. Way beter people than me, and that got me depressed almost.

But I decided that I am not going to feel bad about myself, just because I don't visit old people's homes and wash their near dead bodies, and I don't volunteer my time helping humanity. I can't worry about those things because they bring me no great joy, unlike sitting here at this typewriter and pounding out stupid ideas for the same 5 people, who tirelessly hit the refresh button hoping I have the day off and live blog my day for them, because they hate being alone with their thoughts because their thoughts are boring even to themselves, so they just imagine all the things I say are the things they would say when they read me aloud with their lips moving.

I'd hate you, but I am so much like you. We both have no reason for living. And if I am not making much since right now I should tell you that is because I turned off the air conditioner and opened up the house a few minutes ago, because the sun finally went down so it no longer 90 degrees outside. I hope my brain adjusts to the heat that is going to pile into the house even though I turned on the fan to try and keep me cool. So if I am rambling it may just be the first sign of heat stroke.

***

I think it is a real credit to myself that I have 10 readers when I can't write for shit. I don't even post slutty pictures of teen idols most days so there really is nothing much to read here anymore. I get that. And I am working on it, if by working on it you mean I hope something happens in my life real quick like that I could blog about because like you I am sick of writing fat girl jokes and jokes about Mexicans.

Keep dropping by. I will blog all night. Unless I can think of something better to do, which I can't. I am thinking of writing a blog post about the newest right wing meme regarding the financial meltdown and how according to the right wing nuts and the Wall Street Journal the fault all lies with Carter and Clinton.

Either way I will continue talking about my metaphysical crisis, my estrangement from society, and my inability to get laid. Because I know that is why you come here. And not for the analysis of the economic situation. Because unlike Kelso I want to get laid off the internet so I keep all the economic shit at Bathos. And I will keep all the misanthropic pathos over here. Cuz chicks dig pathos.

***

I get panic attacks

I had to leave my wife because she could not live with my panic attacks. Like the panic attack I am having about having throat cancer right now. she never worried with me. she always told me that my worries were "nothing" and that I was ok and I did not need to go the doctor and even when I bleed and need 9 stitches* she had more important things to do than wait around the emergency room with me, like laundry

*Every time I have ever needed stitches i have needed 9 stitches. weird, huh?

I always know when I am having a panic attack. When I am panicking any noise I hear:

revs me up/bothers me/aggravates me/startles me/panics me/disorients me.

I feel something at the bottom of my throat. When I apply pressure to the outside of my throat near my clavicle I feel a bump or pressure. It also hurts like I have the mumps or something.*

*These things are real, but there is no point in panicking about it.

writing about my discolored bowel movements had gotten me to think my health too much, and now I am sure that I have cancer. that ignoring all that green shitting is going to come back to pay me in the ass. (sorry bad pun. god I hate puns.)

I am going to have problems swallowing tonight I think. Maybe acid reflux causes cancer. yes I seem to remember reading that somewhere. the doctor will tell me i have a 50% chance of living. I hope she is cute. I hope she lets me cry. I hope I am tuff enough to win, to beat out cancer even though being tuff has nothing to do with beating cancer.

I poop 4 times and I review the Pita Grill where I meet an ethnically ambiguous hottie who serves me feta cheese

I just took my third shit today. My first shit was kinda brown and kinda solid. The second shit was yellow or clay. It was soft and mushy. The third shit was green and runny.

Children do not develop an immune system for the first few years of life so parents are constantly seeing the kind of mess in dirty diapers I am seeing in the toilet these days so they would probably not be alarmed the way I am about the condition of my bowel movements. I worry because I assume the only reason I shit like an infant is because I have AIDS and the AIDS has so fucked my immune system that the fact that I drink a little ice tea with hibiscus makes me shit weak, runny and green. I feel like I am Kermit the frog in his last days, getting high with the King of Rock and Roll and ready to die face down in the commode.

I know every one wants to dissect what I am eating so I will use that as an excuse to give you my review of the Pita Grill.* Also I only eat chocolate gram crackers, herbal and decaf ice tea, and fast food.

*It should be noted that I shat before eating at the Pita Grill. The Pita Grill is in no way to blame for my weak or discolored bowel movements.

I loaned my truck out to a friend of Card Shark's. She needed to move furniture. She was also a good hour late getting the truck back to me at work so I had to stick around work for an additional hour waiting for her to return so I could get home.

I guess she felt guilty about taking so long to pick me up because she palmed me 10 dollars which I would not have accepted, but I was not paying attention to what she gave me, and after I took the money it felt weird to give it back, and there the whole thing about me siting around waiting on her for a good hour, and her good manners would have required her to take me to lunch or dinner, and the 10 dollars would have been about what she would have had to pay, and accepting the money was a lot easier than coming up with an hour of uncomfortable small talk at lunch which would have turned devolved into a one hour gab fest about Card Shark because he is about the only thing we have in common.

Frankly, I couldn't stomach the idea of talking about Card Shark for a full hour as the time I spend with Card Shark we spend talking about him, and if there is anything that you need to know about a guy with 4 blogs and two podcast and a u-tube channel is that this is all about me baby.

P.S.

I think I am going to shit again soon. Also, Yahoo Radio is fucking up again and not playing commercials!

Oh, yeah. I was getting to the part where I talk about the food I ate today and review the Pita Grill. I decided to eat out because I had an extra 10 dollars in my pockets.

The pita grill is in located in a strip mall next to ASU. The decor on the outside is pretty typical. Inside the place is pretty cool. There is ample seating. The furniture is shiny and black. An ethnically ambiguous girl is surfing the web and sipping a diet coke through a straw. The sound system is piping in Middle Eastern music. The "middle eastern" music sounds a lot like Indian music. But not the annoying kind of Indian music you hear in Bollywood movies. Calm, sedate stuff without all the odd vocalizations.



I stepped up to the counter to place my order. I told Ambiguously Ethnic Girl that, "This is my first time here." She pointed to pictures on the wall and told me there are pictures of the food on the wall. Now I know how really stupid foreigners think Americans are.

I tried to impress the girl with me knowledge of food by ordering a gyro pita with feta. When I ordered fries as my side she gave me a look of disgust. I guess foreigners aren't taught to hold in their contempt for the crassness of their patrons.

While my server took my order I played a game where I tried to determine the woman's ethnicity. I thought she might be a Greek, because she had long curly hair.*

*Did I mention I like long dark curly hair?

She also looked middle eastern; or moreover, the possible family members who worked with her looked middle eastern, and by middle eastern I assume Persian for no reason other than I know Persians come from Iran, and I was hoping I could somehow work that knowledge into the conversation without it looking to obvious. I never did. And I never got over the compulsion to blurt out that Persians are from Iran.

The food is quite good. I paid $4.99 for the Gyro Pita and $2.50 to make it a combo with fries and a drink. The fries are the only disappointment which is not surprising as this is not an American Diner, but a middle eastern food joint. The fries are skinny and come with a dusting of seasoning. I hate seasoned fries in general, so maybe if you like seasoned fries you would find the fries acceptable. The ice tea I drank had a hint of peach.

The gyro was good. The lamb and beef was tender and fresh. I added the hot sauce to it and a side of feta. My server smiled at me when she packaged the food to go and then placed it in the to go bag for me even though I ordered the food to eat in.

My food bill came to $8.10. I remember thinking the girl jipped me on change which got me to thinking she might be Jewish after all. But after I got home I saw that I had $1.90 in change, so maybe she is just Persian.

I was slightly irritated by the girl. She did not like to answer any of my questions, but that may have been because English was not her first language. When I first entered the store I heard her and her compatriots conversing in a language I could not determine.

She wore the strange track suit that Europeans think is appropriate for every day wear. Her lime green shoes did not match. I remember I couldn't understand anything she said unless she repeated it to me and was looking right at me so I could read her lips.

She sat down at at a table to eat a snack half way through my meal. She looked skinny behind the counter but I noticed a small pooch around her middle from my new vantage point. Nothing bad. She just wasn't super tight like a swimmer or an athlete. She had some good female fat.

My cell phone was beeping throughout the meal as I was texting the Ex IGF and Leslie. The only other diners where a nice college couple. The guy ordered food and the girl watched him eat. I liked that this guy did not pay for a meal for her.

College girl had short brown hair. She smiled at me. I think she was glad I was there because we were in on the little secret that this place served decent food. Maybe she was imagining that I could be her boyfriend, because her current boyfriend took her to places like this and she had to notice how my cell phone was blowing up, so obviously even though it was a Friday night at 10:30 and I didn't have a date, I was a guy with friends who couldn't stand to be out of touch.

The college girl looked back at me a lot during my meal. Maybe thinking I would buy her some baklava. It would be her first time trying it, and I could talk to her about all the nuts in the dessert and how they firm up her bowel movements. She would probably laugh at the inappropriateness of the conversation and marvel at how at ease I was with her. She would swear off men her age for the maturity to be found in my graying goatee.

The college boy got up and the college girl left with him. I guess all the stuff we shared meant nothing to her. Girls are like that though. I'm cool with it.

I'm at home now and I am eating cookies. I have 4 cookies left. I am going to eat them all. I have to go for a Tux fitting in the morning, and I want to be able to eat a little before the wedding.

One last thing. I just posted a new Fan Letter to Steve Nash's Wife over at Bathos for the Misanthropic. Quit making me tell you that. Add Bathos to your blog reader.

I only die on the inside

I noticed I had 2 additional followers on blogger today. I bet you'd think I was happy about that because all you ever hear me complain about is how I don't have enough of an audience to make any money blogging.

You'd be wrong. By now you should have figured out how I could gleam something negative from something positive.

Like I told Dave one of the new followers:

"Every time I am just about to quit this blog I get a little positive reinforcement and that keeps me going, or in another way it keeps me tied to this machine and slowly dying on the inside."

I guess what I mean by that is that if I can hide from the responsibility of life by pretending people actually care what I say then i don't have to go out into the real world and do something. And since my natural predilection is to not do stuff then you can see how blogging fits right into that.

I had a much longer post on this topic planned but I have to go to work in five minutes. I was going to tie all this into how I can't get a girlfriend. I was also going to talk about the crossroads and how a man eventually needs to define himself.

I was going to talk about how we all feel we fail to measure up to our potential, and in the end how most of us give up before we ever truly try. I was going to mention that most of us who feel good about ourselves are deluded and the measurements we use are those of society, and the society we live in is sick, so we shouldn't be using the goals we get from society.

Of course you all know that. You know it doesn't matter what kind of car you drive or whether you met your sales quota from last week. You know the empty life you lead. You understand that sitting down in front of the television is like squatting over the toilet bowl of life hoping to shit something edible out of your ass, and in turn only getting juicy, discolored shits.

You can't wipe the stains away from such weak stains. You can only hope to change your underwear. Either way unless you change your diet all you will ever get is weak shitting.

I guess what I am saying is that our society lacks fiber and therefore cannot produce the well formed shit we need to live a healthy and productive life. But I am not going to sit here and tell you that I know what a healthy and productive life means. And since I don't know what a healthy and productive life is, you could ask what my standards are for disowning my life or for attacking yours.

The answer is I haven't the foggiest idea other than some vague intuition, and since you might outscore me on a logic test I am going to stick to what I do best, and that is trust what I hear from my gut.

I know the last time someone told you to "trust their gut" you got conned into a couple of wars and a trillion dollar bailout of millionaires. But trust me. Not all guts are the same.

I know some of you are going to protest and tell me that even though you are not good people you occasionally do some good things. You drop change in the United Way cups. You volanteer at homeless shelters. But the good things we do are not connected to us in any meaningful way. That is because we divide the world up into fragements. We don't connect with each other except when we need to feel better about ourselves.

You will never be happy as long as you segment out your life. As humans we have some kind defect in our DNA that makes us want to submit to the whole. Most of the good things we do in life, most of the small joys we bring to others, are nothing more than our desire to live whole. To give up our segmented lives and be swallowed up by some principle (god).

I suppose if you are willing to do that you can be happy. The happy of goldfish. I don't know. I can't do that. I can't submit. I'd like to. I'd like all the darkness in my life to go away. But I don't think I can.

I'm late for work now.

The Halloween Pencil Vagina Monologues

"I am not thinking about vagina."

Written and directed by Romius T.

Title suggested by Honey Smacks.

I may be spreading myself thin here. I have three blogs, the secret blog no one knows about, 2 podcasts, the Romiustexis Radio Station, and Television on the tubes from Romius T which is my youtube channel.

Despite the advice I am getting about this character I am thinking of creating a television series based on him.

I also have another idea for videos on the self help center. I am going to call it, "not my urine." Basically anytime I am in a public restroom and there is urine in the stall I am going to take a picture of it with a caption that says, "Not my urine."

I know what you are thinking, "high concept art" doesn't always translate to the masses. But I don't care. The only thing that sucks is that whenever I mobile blog all the posts I send can only go to the [TSHC] and not to any of my other blogs. I am also having trouble figuring out how to mobile post to youtube which is where I'd actually like to send all these videos.

That way there would be a reason for you to visit my TV on the Tubes youtube video channel. It would be like "Destination TV" if Thursdays on NBC still had something worth watching.

I don't want to crowd up this blog with a bunch of worthless videos. That's what youtube is for. I am still sticking to the one blog post per day aesthetic that I have nurtured over the years I have written this blog.

A further note: Whenever I mobile blog I will usually edit the post later and add more text. I can only add 1,000 characters on my phone which is about 8 text messages worth of space. I guess it would be nice to have an I-phone. Maybe when I make my TV series I will get enough money to buy an Iphone.

Ok. I am off to figure out youtube mobile blogging again. If I do, expect there to be shit load of new videos every day there. I know you can't wait.

I know some of you are going to say that all this broadcasting to the world sounds like a cry for help. Like I am screaming to the world "listen to me, listen to me!" At least that was what the Fro was saying to me when I showed him my newest video creation.

Sure, it is a cry for help. Just like the cry for help you made to your mommy the first time you ejaculated at night in a wet dream.

Mommy ran into your room as quickly as she could and wiped your penis down with some mommy spit and a moist towelette. It was a nice mother/son moment when she never mentioned how hard you got from all the cleaning she gave you. And you guys never talked about how cleaning you up became a nightly ritual.

But I'm the one with problems.

update: turns out it was real easy to upload videos to youtube from the mobile phone. now I hope I am not having to pay a lot of money to upload these videos from my cell. i thought I had unlimited video and picture text messaging. or at least 500 free text messages for the extra 10 dollars I pay verizon. we shall see. if in fact it works that way i will post tones of useless video. i am sure most of you can't wait to get romius t on video on demand 24/7. i am positive of that.

Rarely is the question asked, "Is wearing Guess Jeans still cool?"

I am trying to type over the sounds of my roommates dying computer. The fan is running constantly even though it is 70 degrees in the condo. I figure that means my roommates computer is about to fail, because my brother's computer did the same thing before his fan chocked and took the hard drive with it. As soon as I am done with this post I am going to turn off my roommate's computer and wait for it to die on him. That way I can't get blamed for his hard drive failure, and for him losing all those stored Blondie mp3s he has stolen off the limewire.

Actually, I could not wait that long and I decided to finish this post on my computer where all I hear are the crying sounds emanating from my computer monitor. The sound is a lot like a dentist's drill only sharper and less inside your head. It is still annoying; although, slightly less annoying than a cooling fan in its final death throws.

I was supposed to dedicate this blog post to JessieBot3000. We were having a conversation at my checkstand the other day about a customer who came through our line. I tend to make remarks about every cute girl who passes through my checkstand. I make sure to comment to my bagger whenever I chat a cute girl up with all my highly effective and clever grocery store clerk banter.

I was telling JessieBot that the girl in my line could have liked me because she liked our conversation, but Jess disagreed. "Anyway," she said "She has a boyfriend, and the boyfriend and her looked like a cute couple, like they were totally meant for each other."

"But I like alternative chicks." I replied. "And if that girl was truly alternative she could see past my dorky clothes and unassuming wanna- be-preppy style for the alternative dude that I really am."

I may not drink Pabst Blue Ribbon and wear skinny jeans, but I am nothing if not all about breaking down sexual stereotypes and gender roles. I just don't feel the need to wear my faux trans gender persona on my sleeves.

I told JessieBot that I had no idea how to dress myself.

"I have no idea what is cool to wear anymore. When I was in high school Guess jeans where all the rage. I don't think Guess jeans are cool anymore."

The couple next in line overheard me talking to JessieBot and the female offered up her opinion about Guess Jeans. She told me that she thought Guess jeans were still cool and, "if not cool at least they are not uncool."

I wondered aloud if the old guess jeans were still cool. You know the ones with the little triangle and the question mark.

The couple laughed and agreed that the triangle style Guess jeans were no longer cool, "unless you are being retro." Which I guess makes my point. I still have no idea if the jeans themselves are cool or not. All I know is I would look ridiculous in a pair of acid washed skinny 'triangle' Guess jeans.

"No one would think I was being retro. They would just assume I was white trash and wonder where I parked my Camaro."

The world is patently unfair like that sometime. I don't know why I can't dress like the hipsters and pass off their goofy looks. I guess it is because I think the whole idea of dressing in some particular style because it is somehow suggestive of your personality is pretty insipid. I mean I know you think that too, but that's only because you are a bigger dork than I am and people point and laugh at you when you go outside.

Even though you can't be one of the cool kids you still want to be one. You even believe the hype that somehow something as retarded as fashion has meaning. You think a "personal style" reflects something about that persons "artistic soul." You just don't get it. That's why you look awkward copying all of the latest fashions you see out of magazines.

You can't mimic an artistic sensibility just because you have a personal style or a creative flair for grouping shirts with belts. All you have is style. All you have is a burning desire to fit in. And people can smell desperation a mile away which is why people stay so far away from you which is probably just doing you a favor since if they ever got close enough to smell the real you they would get a whiff of that uncontrollable body odor of yours and hate you for the very good reason that people hate things that smell like feet.

Unlike you I didn't just "opt" out of the mainstream aesthetic because I have an alternative body style (i.e. because I am fat or ugly.) I opted out of the the mainstream "looks game" because I refuse to play by rules that are only meant to fuck you.

The game is fixed. And I don't think telling ugly people they are beautiful does them any favor. That's why don't support the alternative hipster movement. I don't think we need another group of people feeling empowered because of the way they look.

First, because I don't think you get to change the rules as you go along. Second, because judging people based on their looks is immoral. I don't want to make everyone beautiful. I just want to end beauty. It's the difference between my radicalism and your cowardly incrementalism.

The whole system of lookism is wrong, and all you hipster snobs are making the same mistakes of judging people based on their taste and their clothes that all your enemies (preppie trendy cheerleader girlfriends) did to you back in the eight grade, causing you to get all depressed and start wearing black. Like we all don't know how sad you feel on the inside already.

All I am saying is that if some trendy hipster snob is going to judge me because she can't take me seriously, all because I wear normal clothes that don't drop off my ass like I am some kind of wanna be inner city Compton gangster, then she can kiss my ass- because she is the least alternative person I have ever met. All she is a snobby stuck up trendy who looks better in black than in pink. She is no better than the empty headed Paris Hilton impersonators of this world, and no amount of copiously underlined passages of Sylvia Plath could suggest otherwise.

I break a world exclusive story** about how you can steal free music from yahoo radio

If the past three months of my blogging has taught you anything then you know that this blog is never going to be anything all that interesting and despite the small surge of popularity this blog saw in the past month I think we all know that 20 daily readers is not very many and the fact that I haven't seen a bigger push or any additional followers on blogger means that this blog has stopped growing again.

I guess I should just sit back and enjoy the few of you who stick around and read this blog despite the fact that I can't think of anything to blog about and despite how boring this blog is with no stories of strippers or even drinking because I haven't felt like getting drunk and I even gave up drinking cola so I guess all this health stuff going on in my life has gotten me to start shitting kinda correctly again because I am happy to report that my last few shits have been "almost" brown and I think that is probably a positive thing which means I will most likely be alive for a little while longer which I know is just want you wanted to hear.

I read the other day that Microsoft is going to stop selling one of its old operating systems. I hope that does not include windows 2000 anytime soon, because that is the operating system I am using.

There are a lot of drawbacks to using an old operating system like Windows 2ooo. For instance I can't sync my cell phone to my computer, and so far I have been unable to sync my mp3 player as well. That means I have to use my roommates computer to sync all that stuff and that is kinda annoying.

One thing that rocks about windows 200o is steaming music from Launchcast. (Yahoo radio and Yahoo messenger )

I know none of you give a shit about Yahoo Radio, because none of you have ever visited my Yahoo Radio Station. You should because it totally rocks. I have rated more than 4,000 songs, albums, and artists. That means I have the best radio station in the world because yahoo radio plays the music I like best* and offers up suggestions based on how I rated different music.

*(A note: I have no idea if when listening to my radio station you are told my ratings. All I can say is that if you are not hearing Metallica, UFo, or the blues then skip the song it is probably one of those groups yahoo radio is promoting.)

The software Yahoo uses to suggest new music is not that great because they seem to push new bands and groups that advertise on yahoo more than just artists that sound like the ones you want. The other drawback is all the commercials they play on Yahoo.

You can eliminate the commercials by paying 5 bucks a month. If you get the service you can do things like skip as many songs as you want, and I have considered getting the service because I like to surf the net and listen to music, and sometimes I get sick of listening to just my cd's. Also I like having a DJ program music for me even if that DJ is a robot.

The reason I bring all this up is that there appears to be a glitch in the software of yahoo radio if you have Windows 2000. I get my radio station without any of the annoying commercials and so far I have been able to skip through any of the songs I don't like. I have no idea if this tip works only on my radio station or if it will work for you.

**Huh.

I just got my first commercial on Launchcast. I guess I should delete this post now, but since I took all the time to write it I am just going to keep it up anyway. Hey, normally they play one commercial for every 3 songs. And now I just got my second song while editing this post so I think it is safe to say that I am completely wrong so don't go trading in that wonderful Vista operating system you are using on the 1 gig ram laptop for windows 2000.

Compared to a shut in I live the high life

I wish I was disabled. That way when people asked me what I do with my free time I would have a ready made excuse for them. I'm not disabled, but I sure seem to shit like one of them. I shat green again and this time I would say there is no way it was caused by dyes or the food I ate. I probably have some kind of intestinal thing that people get before they know they have AIDS.

I did not take a picture of this shit, but it was green and nasty and I kinda wished I did just to get all of you who think I am making this stuff up in my head off my case. I may have some mental problems, but hallucinations are not one of them.

I'm going to try and give up all the antacids and see if that helps. If it doesn't then I will give up and shit in a cup for a doctor and when I am diagnosed with something terrible I want a lot of sympathy.

All I did today was eat pizza with a couple of friends and run errands. I went to the bank. I got a haircut . I cleaned up around the house and did dishes. I vacuumed. I know that has nothing to do with strippers, and I know some of you only read this blog to read about strippers , but I just got told that my podcast/blog talks to much about strippers.

Apparently he the Las Vagas Podcast better than he liked my latest man-tastic day podcast. Something about being embarrassed for me when he heard me talk about having a crush on a girl and how it was possible that the girl could find the podcast and know what a dork I am. Like she doesn't know that about me already.

It turns out that my friends feel like they get to criticize my podcast and blog because they think if they waste 20 minutes of their lives listening to the "whole" podcast they earn the right to criticise my work. I think they are wrong. The only people who get to criticize me are my loyal readers who join the community of losers we have here at this blog. My readers invest all kinds of time with me and give back feedback and add to the discussion. What would this blog be without commentors like Fawkes , Kelso, freddy, d-cup, and the cereal girls?

Either way my friend wants to think "20 minutes of effort" on a plane trip counts. Like I don't know the only other source of entertainment on a plane flight is the flight attendant spilling drinks on you, and the screaming kids in the seat behind you tapping on your head. He thinks that means he is allowed to make judgements about me and this blog. Well if you think you can make all that without a response from me you are crazy. And if you think I am going to stop talking about strippers you are even crazier.

Dear Mom Part 2: We havle already lived the nightmare and his name was Geroge Bush

Dear Mom,

I know you are concerned about President Elect Hussein and his socialist ways. I wrote a blog post about Barrack Obama where I talked about lowering your expectations for him if you are a liberal.

Obama is not about to usher in a sensible world of changes that could lead to socialist revolution.

He is going to lower the taxes on the poor and working class because he honors hard work and he thinks that the government should not tax the those with the lowest incomes.

Republicans give tax cuts to the wealthy in the hopes that trickle down economics isn't voo doo economics even though we all know it is.

He is going to raise taxes on the wealthy only back to the point where they were at with Clinton (which by the way were lower than taxes under Eisenhower and Reagan).

Under Clinton we had a balanced budget, and a strong economy.

Regarding the article you had me read, the guy mentions bad presidents and doesn't bring up Bush. How is that possible? We have lived the nightmare of possibilities that the article you suggested mentions, only his name was George Herbert Walker Bush.

Under Bush the North Koreans got the Nuclear Bomb. Under Bush Pakistan traded nuclear secrets. Under Bush we had the worst Terrorist attacks in our nations history. We have the largest deficits in history. We have 2 wars Bush did not win. We have the rape of the constitution. We have torture. We have a list of social problems and ills that were not addressed. We gave tax cuts to the oil companies when they were making record profits. We had a president lie about the reasons he took us to war. I could go on and on.

If all Obama does is allow one nation to get nukes, allow the worst economic recession since the 1970's (maybe even since the depression), expand the scope of government to include federal involvement into health care (prescriptions for seniors cost billions) and education (no child left behind), suspend the 4th amendment, allow the poisoning of our water, the humiliation of America before the world by allowing one of our great cities to die like New Orleans, etc.

Oh, and lose two wars, then all we would have is another Bush.* And somehow America managed to survive Bush. Maybe God does bless America.

*Another Bush another bailout.*

Why do the Bushes always lie to get us into wars in the Gulf (yes they lied about the first one too!) and allow evil doers to profit off the taxes of the American people?

*The bailouts (both bushes had them) are larger than food stamps and welfare payments. That is redistribution of the wealth. So is the decline percentage of taxes paid by corporations. No one calls that redistribution on the right.

No one on the right calls corporate give aways welfare even when we hand Wall Street a trillion dollars. Because we accept socialism for the rich in this country rather than for the poor. Food stamps cost about 40 billion dollars a year. The bailouts are more money than we have spent on food stamps and child welfare since they were created.

Working people need to understand the scope of the massive attack they were under during the Bush years. The Bushes care only about the rich. They engage is class warfare. They take tax dollars away from the poor and give them to the rich and to the powerful.

The massive tax cuts they give to the wealthy are part of a carefully orchestrated destruction of the effectiveness of government. Is it any wonder than when a Republican is in office how ineffective government is? I am not just talking red tape. I am talking Katrina.

When you cut taxes on the Wealthy you get smaller revenues*

*I could go off on this. The founder of Voo Doo economics, and the inventor of the Laffer curve, and the creator of that massively stupid Republican talking point that, "cutting taxes increases government revenues" has himself admitted - along with David Stockman Ronald Reagan's Budget chief- that in fact that is not the case, and it never was, and cutting taxes was never intended to increase revenues.

But I digress.

If you Cut Taxes. Decrease revenues. Keep the military budget (this is untouchable despite the fact that we spend more on military that the rest of the world combined) then you have to cut social programs. That is the whole plan for Republicans. Cut the safety net, "privatize Social Security"--umm anyone glad your Republican party did not do that now?

Is it no wonder working people see the government not working for them?

Gut the overtime laws, stop enforcing workers rights and safety laws. Cut the safety net. All that does is make negotiations at the labor bargaining table easier on corporations. And all it does is spread wealth upwards.

I am against redistribution too, Only I am against the wealthy and the powerful taking from the poor and defenseless.

History will tell us that the worst President ever managed to screw things up so badly it won't matter who wins this election, because all that president will have time to do is fix the problems of the last 8 years.

I don't expect Obama to be our savior. I don't expect billions to be spent on energy independence that could lead to a dramatic new way of reorganizing our society.

(What if we pooled our resources and paid for solar to power the U.S. We would have free energy in a few decades that would allow a huge saving relief for future generations. Maybe people would have to work less and ...Oh I won't dream about those kind of possibilities.)

Obama is just another democrat. Our vicious consumer life is not in danger from him.

The only danger is that he will fix capitalism long enough for it to continue onward. Where is will grow stronger and more reckless and eventually so destructive that "expropriators will be expropriated."

But not in time for us to reap the benefits, I am afraid.

(I will update later with links to prove my verify the facts y'all. My apologies to Fawkes for another boring political blog post.)

Congrats President Hussein. Life just got a lot more like an episode of 24

Today's Poop Watch is green with nuts.*

*I'm going to start including pictures with my descriptions.

My shit has been green for a few day, and if I was one of you crazy Republicans I would probably blame it all on Barack Hussein Obama. But since I am not a crazy Republican, I have to look to science for an explanation.

According to science green shit can be caused by not digesting my food. My working hypothesis is that all the antacids I am eating to control my acid reflux has reduced the acid level of my stomach to the point that I no longer digest my food properly.

The other probability is cancer.

My acid reflux is not as bad as it was while I was drinking soda all day, but I have to tell you that it has not all together disappeared. I may have to seek medical advice, and even though I now have medical insurance I still don't have a doctor. I am not sure if I will.

Even if I get a doctor there is the little matter of the 250 dollar deductible will have to come up to pay for any of the medical services I may receive.

All I know about deductibles is I assume they are all a thing of the past since we elected a Obama to the highest office in the land. Barack got my vote (even if it was cast on a provisional ballot in Arizona, a state that gave him exactly zero electoral votes) so like a lot of people I figure he owes me.

Caution. Don't get your hopes up.

President Hussein may not be the Anti-Christ, but he is also not our savior. He is just another politician. Obviously one of the great Orators of the 21st century or any other, but he is just a man and just a typical politician.

Politicians rule from the center. If you don't believe me just check out any of the comments from Speaker Pelosi about her new huge advantage in Congress.

Pelosi has no intention of using any of the political capital that this historic election has given her. She has already stated that this election did not give the Democrats a mandate. She added that this election was not about ideology.

That is precisely why we won't get investigations into the Bush administration. It is exactly why we won't get energy independence.

I think what we can look forward to is the re-emergence of America's standing in the world. We will work with our allies. We will stop torturing citizens of the world. We may add some piecemeal stop gags to the health care system.

What I am trying to tell my progressive friends is that after you read this post tomorrow morning you will wake to find the same America that you had last night. Even if Obama wanted he could not turn America into Sweden overnight. And unless I misread him 100%, Obama has no plan whatsoever to turn the U.S. into the socialist utopia you want.

I am not talking to the sophisticated progressives who have experience in organizing and protesting. I am talking to the people who consciousness Obama awakened through his inspirational talks. He has a lot of poor people believing that when he assumes office we won't have to worry about gas prices or the mortgage.

Of course nothing could be further from the case.

Barack Obama is the shiny face of Industrial Capitalism in its death throws. It appears that the current fiscal crisis has finally taught American Capitalism the same lessons that Europeans learned so many years ago. That the naked unbridled quest for greed is bad. That community is necessary.

Capital is resilient. It has sent one more volley back that we must return. Down to sets to love and facing elimination, Capital is taking a swing for the fences. It wants to get back in the game, so it has conceded what it must. It will offer some kind of health care. It will work to resolve what it can of the growing nightmare that is global warming.

I could list ad infinitum the possible forces that will mitigate the destructive impulses of our Capitalist economy.

But there are certain things that Capital will not concede. It will never concede the private appropriation of the surplus of the means and goods we produce socially.

To grasp this idea all you need to know is the consequence of my point. We will never have a rationale society as long as there is Capitalism.

I wish President Hussein all the luck in the world taming the beast he rides. But we all know how this ride ends. Either in oblivion, or the socially organized production of means of production.

Don't use the keyword "election" in a blog post today you wont get any hits

3:26 a.m. in the morning before the election.

I found my polling place on the internet. I confirmed I am registered to vote.

I am thinking I should live blog the election. The only problem is that I have to work until 8 pm Arizona time which means the election is going to be over before I get around to figuring out how to "blog mobiley."

I am pretty sure I can mobile blog, but I haven't really tried yet.

If I can. I will.

• I wonder if there will be riots in the streets
• I wonder if the Republicans will steal another election
• I wonder if the Electoral College will produce another presidential winner who did not win the popular vote and if it does will that finally be the last straw for the electoral college?
• I hope Keith Olberman gets to Anchor the coverage for MSNBC.

Need to get in the mood for the election? Go visit my incomparable archives:

Go read my take on Keith here!

Go read my thoughts on the Electoral College System.

Just some thoughts on the election before it happens.

Keep checking back. And pray for Obama.

12:13 pm

I get out of bed. I am off to shower and dash to the polling booth. Then I will head to work for the next 6 hours. I will attempt some live blogging.

I suck at saving the videos I take on Halloween

With my last post I promised to get drunk and go to the Halloween parade in Tempe. I took the bus to Mill Ave. just around midnight. The scene there was bedlam. I recommend going to the Halloween parade on Mill if you can.

The parade featured tons of crazies, hundreds of drunks, and of course girls in slutty outfits.

I promised you I would take videos and pictures of the scene. I did, or at least I thought I did. I guess it turns out that I don't quite know how to use my phone as well as I thought I did. I ended up with just one video of a dancing guy with his shirt off, and a few poorly lit shots of scenery with no actual people in costumes. That's because I tried taking my pictures from the balcony at Hooter's after drinking a large beer or two.

I like photography and like every girl in the 8th grade I thought I could grow up to be a a professional photographer. I regret to inform you that is never going to happen. I'd like to blame the poor picture quality and all the videos I forgot to save on the fact that I was drunk, but I think we all know that most photographers wake up drunk, and take their best photos high on the cocaine they steal from the half-naked models they shoot.

I guess I will have to limit my dreams photographic artistry to that of becoming a director, because directors can always hire a cinematographer (and when you learn that directors aren't usually cinematographers you have to ask yourself just what the hell is it that a director does?)

Either way I did not include the Halloween pics I took in this post because that would require me to picture text my e-mail address, and then save the pics from the e-mail to my computer before I could even consider posting them on the blog, and that sounds like a lot of work just to show off a bunch of badly taken photographs that you would probably just laugh at, and wonder what all the fuss was over this whole Tempe Halloween Parade.

I could describe to you some of the vids and pics you missed.



There is the video of the two girls walking past me and whispering to one another, "what is that guy doing?" While pointing at me and covering themselves up. Like it wasn't obvious that I was just standing in the only well lit part of Mill with my camera open and recording slutty girls as they walked by.

I'm kinda glad I did not save that video as I was actually a bit embarrassed by what I was doing at the time, because I wasn't drunk enough to shrug off the comment and make a witty retort.

You also missed me getting permission to record the girl dressed as Snow White. The girl dressed as Snow White went around asking for donations of a dollar if you wanted to get a photograph with her. Since I asked her for a video clip, and I told her I was going to post it on my blog, I offered her two dollars as a donation. She gladly accepted.

In the video I never got around to asking her the questions I wanted her to answer like, "why she was out here asking for money." I decided that she needed the donations to pay for the costume. I also wanted to know how much she money she had collected. I know for a fact that just standing around that night she made more money than than I will ever make off this blog and all she did was walk around and look sorta cute holding an apple that said "$1 for pictures."

Maybe I should do that with my camera. I could send 30 second videos to all my fans where I wish them or their brethren a happy day or wonderful wedding. Though I would suggest you ask me to send video text messages of me making fun of the people you know- like those that have recently lost their jobs, or the fag who just got dumped by his girl friend.

I've had other money making ideas like my greeting card business. Some of my lucky co-workers and friends have had the good fortune of receiving my personalized Christmas or Valentine's Day cards. They can tell you they first saw my genius in those cards.

I bring up all those money making ideas because I am looking for a new job. Well I am not looking yet, but I have officially run of patience with my current job.

I was in a funk all day because all I could think was how much I hated my job, and how much hated my life, and how all I wanted to do today was stay home and watch the Dallas Cowboys on TV and drink coke and eat burgers from Sonic, because I like the way Sonic pairs their burgers with delicious sides like Tater Tots.

I was depressed before I even got out of bed today, but it did not help that right after waking up I read a long article on the suicide of David Foster Wallace. After reading the article I got to thinking that nothing really mattered because like David Foster Wallace said, "the disease of depression is really us."

He also talked about how suicides have already killed themselves before the final act and that at the end they are really just being tidy with their bodies.

That got me thinking a lot about cowardice.

They say that a coward dies a thousand tiny deaths and I suppose by now you all know what a coward I am. They say that a dying a cowards death is supposed to be way worse than dying with courage, or dying with at least with something approaching dignity. I would have no idea about that.

All I know is that when I signed up for being a coward I had no idea that I would have to endure the knowledge that I was a coward. I guess that is what the whole 1,000 deaths thing is supposed to illustrate, but I wasn't paying attention. I stopped paying attention to the world as soon as I figured out that I was not some kind of grand character in the struggle for world history.

Even though I am depressed, I did not call in sick. I was tempted though. I was so tempted to stay home that I waited to leave for work until I had only 15 minutes to get to work.

I still got to work on time so I don't think anyone noticed how miserable I was until people started to ask me how I was and I told them I was miserable and hated my life and my job and that basically there was nothing worth living for except surfing the web and burying myself away from all the responsibilities that a decent person should have.

Of course if we were to be decent folk we would all have to be Gandhi, and I am sure none of have the stomachs for that so for the most part people just do what they can. They drop their spare change in the March of Dimes buckets and wander around the suburbs with Obama stickers on their S.U.V.'s.

I used to think those people suffered from false consciousness or at least figured they were victims of capitalism in the sense that their lives were inauthentic (or jeez I can't remember what Fromm said about that but hey it is 4:08 in the morning and I just worked a 9 hour shift, ok a 3:30 to midnight shift is not 9 hours, but you get the point--- I can't think straight right now.

The whole point being that I no longer think those people are any different than me. I am them, and they are me.

Only, I actually think the "starving children" in Sub Saharan Africa are actually dying from starvation and that their swollen bellies really are a signs of severe starvation and being on the brink of death, unlike some of the people I work with who are convinced that all non-profits steal your money and pocket the money that happily fed children in Africa and Asia just don't need because that person used to be in the business of calling strangers to get them to donate money to charities in a previous career.

I'm not certain why that person left the high paying field of the Charitable con game in order to cook raw chicken over a rotisserie for you, but the fact that the man refuses to wash his hands or clothes means you should take him at his word, or at least stop eating the chicken.

While I am at it I should say that from here on forward I promise to stop calling Mr. Fawkes a bastard. Unless he deserves it.

I wan't to mention that telling all your friends and co-workers about your blog can backfire when they demand new blog posts from you every day, even though I write this shit for free, and I have over 1,000 posts just like this in the archives that they could be reading, so you can all stop trying to make me feel guilty and go read the archives, because if there is anything you need to know about my life is that it is exactly the same as it was 10 years ago.

Happy Halloween You Little Midgets

Have I told you the story about how I lost a spelling bee in the 4th grade because I couldn't spell the word Halloween? I was the first one out of the spelling contest, and I think that shocked just about everyone in my class, especially my teachers, who thought I might be that one kid-in-a-million that every teacher hopes to get. They figure that kid will grow up to be smart and successful and then they get to take credit for "developing" his talent. I guess somehow that will make up for them being a failure, because all they ever got to be was a teacher. And maybe it gets rid of all the guilt they have, because most days all they have is contempt for the animals they are forced to teach.

I just spell checked this post and I misspelled Halloween again, so I guess the joke is on those teachers that thought I would ever amount to anything. I think they should have figured that out right after I choked at the spelling bee.

I guess those school teachers got fooled (just like a lot of other people) because as a child my I.Q. tested out at 160. I know my I.Q. isn't that high anymore. I must have lost 30 points since the 5th grade. At 130 my I.Q. is nothing special. I could easily be mistaken for a guy with an I.Q of 110.

Not much really separates "the mearly gifted" from the guy with just an average intelligence. Unless you actually work at it. And I don't work at it. So you can take your measly 110 and with some hard work finish college and get a good job. With a good job you can get all the trappings of a nice middle class life style and you can convince yourself that what the world really needs is another middle management quality control engineer. Not that the world doesn't obviously need another quality control engineer, its just that I don't care about middle management quality control engineers and neither does the rest of the world.

What I am really trying to say is that then next time you feel compelled to tell me stories about your life as middle management quality control guy in the guise that your life stories are as exciting as working for the CIA- you should instead just continue to throw up on yourself, otherwise I just might have to vomit too.

I know that none of this has anything to do with Halloween, but that's ok. If you read my blog you know that if you want the stuff about Halloween you have to skip to the end of the post. I like to start my posts off as boring as possible, only then to reward the diligent reader by paying off at the end.

Not that I am planning on doing that today. But you get "it" anyway and that's why we have out little thing. You get to be in on the secret that less patient readers never get. I guess knowing that makes you feel good about yourself, and normally I would probably make fun of that, but I imagine that you might have other things going on in your life that make you feel good. Unlike me. I only have this blog and I guess that makes me pathetic. Even more pathetic than you, but then again if I wasn't here and feeling this pathetic you wouldn't have anyone around to make yourself feel better about. So in a way I am like Mother Teresa, except I spread self esteem to those who's self esteems would otherwise be unwarrantably high.

I decided to have a few beers while writing this post and I am on my second beer. The plan is to get drunk and walk down to Mill Ave., and watch all the girls in slutty costumes parade by. I think the parade is some kind of tradition that is not talked or written about, but that everybody kinda just knows happens. It's a good way to spend a couple of hours. The girls are drunk and wearing all the latest costumes, or they are all teenagers out for the night and away from adult supervision.

I like teens the most because they get creeped out when they notice me staring at them. I'm not shy when I am drunk on 'All Hallows Eve.' I get right into their faces and tell them they should not be dressing "slutty" if they don't want all the attention. I think women are better off knowing as early in life as possible that they can't control who they turn on and who's attention they behaviors elicit. If the kids still want to dress like that at least someone told them better.

I plan on taking lots of pictures and maybe some video clips. I am going to preface it all on the fact that I am interviewing these girls for my blog. I think I am going to get a lot of chicks to talk to me that would not give me the time of day normally, just so they can get their 15 seconds of fame.

To work up the courage to do that I am going to have to step up my drinking....

Visit the archives for more of my Halloween shit.

I don't have a phone that works yet. Step into customer service hell or don't use Let's talk.com to buy a phone

Nothing simple ever happens to me. I wanted to buy a new phone. I wanted a new cell phone provider. Nothing simpler than going to Letstalk.com and ordering the phone you want for only 50 dollars. Right?

Wrong. Letstalk.com's awesome customer service begins with selling you a phone using a website that is designed to look like a portal or a conduit to numerous cell phone companies. You can chose your provider or cell phone from their handy online menus. What they don't tell you until you read the fine print after you pay for your phone is that Letstalk has become your cell phone provider.

Great. One of the reasons I was going to go with Verizon is that the company I work for offers free activation and a 20% discount on Verizon. It is now very fuzzy as to whether I will be able to collect that discount now.

If that were my only problem then I would chalk it up to getting scammed and buyer beware. But of course there is more. The phone was priced at 50 dollars, but free after a rebate. Beware of the rebates from Letstalk.com.

First, you have to wait 120 days before you can even send out and apply for the rebate. You need to make sure that your request is sent in between 120 and 180 days. You have to have the original sales receipt and all kinds of goodies and the rebate takes months to process. I expect to get my 50 dollars back sometime in 2010. It makes you not want to use the rebate which of course is exactly their plan which means you can bet sure as hell I am going to send away for that god damn rebate (and that's if I don't cancel on them which of course they make almost as difficult.)

I requested to get my old phone number to be "ported" to my new phone. Big Mistake. Huge Mistake. As soon as I requested to keep my old phone number my old phone company shut down my phone. Despite promises from Letstalk and Iwireless that it would not happen.

I have money on the pay-as-you-go phone and I can assume that is gone. I don't really care about a few dollars, but I have been phoneless because of this screw up and that has been annoying. It was why my friends where able to surprise me the other night and why I ended up drinking and debating the facts of a lost bra for over an hour along with getting a nice case of acid reflux.

I ordered the phone on Friday and got special 2 day fed ex shipping included that got the phone here sometime after 4 pm on Tuesday.

When I got home I saw the package outside my door waiting. I was excited to have my new phone. I tore open the package and learned that if I want to change my phone service or was upset about the phone or had any problems I was to call Letstalk and not Verizon (even though I have Verizon. The damn phone says Verizon when I turned it on.) I beter have Verizon. All my friends have Verizon and the in-calling will make my bill very cheap.

Stupid thing about the enV2. You can't make a call with it if the phone is charging. I know the battery life is supposed to be awesome and wack crazy. But I don't like the fact that the phone will be off limits while charging. Who thought of that idea?

I charged the phone fully like the instructions said and turned on the phone in order to wake up as many people as possible to tell them my new phone had arrived. What I got was a message that told me that my phone was offline and I would need to use a calling card or a credit card to make a call.

Because I am phoneless I would have to use pay phones to get a hold of Letstalk to fix the problem. Only thing is Letstalk customer service is open only 8am to 4 pm. IF you call the 1-800 number the number tells you to go online to learn the hours of customer service operation. What kind of racket is that? I was lucky enough to get pissed off them twice, because I found two different 800 numbers to call and drove down to the local pay phone two different times only to discover that even though they are a phone company, Letstalk doesn't take phone calls past 4. I was steaming in my pants like a Bukowski shit.

I still am. I have to wake up early and get to a land line and call this retarded phone company and get them to give me a phone number that works. I have to find out if I really have in calling. I have to see if they are going to give me my discount. I have a feeling this will take days. I think I may have just read that on their website. This is total BullShit.

Don't fucking use LEtsTalk.com Their cheap ass phones are not worth the Busllshit.

It is a well documented fact that you are an idiot

Don't hate me because I am Misanthrope. I can't help it. I was born that way. Just like you can't help being the way you are because you were born just like Sarah Palin's mongrel child. You're a bit retarded, and stuff doesn't go to your mind that well and even the stuff that gets in your mind doesn't stick there because if it stuck there that would mean there was enough gray matter or brain juice to soak up inside your skull and we both know that ain't the true.

I did not know it, but I guess I have been nominated as one of the most hated people on the internet, and I guess I should be surprised, but I am not. I know I talked to you guys about how popular I have become and with popularity you always have to risk the backlash. And I guess here comes the backlash with me being nominated for the most hated dude on the tubes. Even (everyone loves) Kelso's Nuts admits that I am favorite to win the award.

I think I know why I am going to win that award. I was talking to a friend the other day who wanted to go into politics, but will never go into politics because he hates stupid people. He can't stop himself from telling stupid people how stupid they are, and the one thing stupid people hate is being told how stupid they are.


That's why stupid people like Sarah Palin think a jar of peanut butter can disprove Evolution. It's why stupid people will vote against allowing gays the right to get married. Stupid people are always looking around for another stupid person to tell them how not-stupid they are. Stupid people are so stupid they never stop to consider the possibility that they are stupid. That's how stupid they are.

Smart people are filled with self doubt. That's why stupid people hate Obama, because Obama equivocates. That's why stupid people hate intellectuals, book smarts, or anything that has Physics in it. Stupid people even hate the word equivocates. How stupid is that?

Of course the only thing worse than a stupid person is a not-stupid person. Not-stupid persons sit around all day waiting for someone to post a rant against stupid people and when they read the words "smart people are filled with self doubt" they nearly shit themselves from the hiccups they get from nodding their heads in agreement to what they just read.

Sorry, not believing in yourself don't make you smart. It only makes you an ass. Maybe you should wonder why you are susceptible to my smooth talking and ego flattering speech.

You are going to hate me now.

I have to break the news to you. You're not that fucking smart. If you were that fucking smart you would have done something by now. You have not. You are not distinguished. You are just one of the faceless masses that bury their heads at the problems of the world and slowly die on the inside from the alienation that we call being a member of the 21st Century working class.

Don't tell me to get over it.

Alienation is not a "feeling" that you can get over. Alienation is a fact. Alienation is the drunken hangover from the alcoholic soaked relations of society.

I deal with my alienation by being an asshole to you on this website. Like my good friend Jesus Martinez wrote:

"I am also sticking with...shit, because it seems to be working….and by working I mean sending you to other sites that are better than mine and worth reading….because I’d hate for you to get stuck here since I am not very good company and definitely a horrible host. I’m the kind of guy who won’t offer you a drink, will leave you in a bathroom with no toilet paper and who would be grabbin’ at your wife in front of your face, so I guess it’s better if you head on over to some of these other people, but I guess you can come back again tomorrow, since I’ll be doing the same shit I’ve been doing the last 4 years, it’s pretty much all I know, which is sad considering I’m not all that good at it, even though you’d think with all that practice would come some improvement, but that’s just not how things work in these parts…."

I could not have summed up my blog or this post more appropriately. I guess that is why I had to steal jesus' words, and I guess that is why Jesus will always be more popular than me.

P.S.
Head over to Bathos I just finished a long attack piece on another crazy e-mail from the nutjobs who try and smear Barrack Obama.

I might get be getting popular

I don't like to brag, but I might be getting popular. I am not getting tons of hits, but my stats are suggestive. I'm getting a lot more repeat business than I used to. Most times I used to get 2 or 4 return visitors a day to this site. The past couple of months I am getting 20 or more return visitors a day to this site. I think the key to building a blog is networking and getting your blog on as many sites as you can. But I also think return visitors are a key and I think we are at a watershed moment in this blog. I think this blog is about to go from c- to a c+ on the rating scale.

If that happens I might get to be as popular as D-cup, or Katie, the Drug Monkey, etc.

I don't know what I will do with my new found popularity. Even my podcast has 300 downloads this month, and that with only one new podcast in the past two months.

I promise to get a couple of podcasts out this week. I am going to add a couple of new segments to the podcast. I am going to discuss the weeks most important conspiracy/robot news/election fraud concerns, and I will have a segment on the latest female teacher sleeping with student type funny news thing. I hope that will encourage all my readers to download the podcast as you won't simply be getting me reading the blog.

I wished I had taken my voice recorder to work today. I was at the customer service desk today and I had a monologue running through my head all day that I would have liked to written for you. It was kinda funny. I can't remember it anymore so I won't try and repeat it for you.

The Karl Marx Blog is going crazy. I am getting mad hits on the blog and maybe some of you have noticed that I have actually posted a couple of times this month. I am thinking of overhauling that blog and making it less faux academic and more like a blog about politics. I think it might be a good Chance to get the word out since we are hearing all the comparisons of Marx and Obama. Maybe I will put a poll up on that blog and test the reaction.

I made Corn Beef today. I put the beef and potatoes in the crock pot about 1. I left the slow cooker on high until I got off work at 8:30. I was sure I was going to come home to a bone dry pot. I did not. The food was not burned or boiled over at all. In fact the food was quite edible.

I promise to post again in a few hours. I promise to post something worth reading soon. Not the next post, but soon. I can't help being blocked. I just hope that we have such a good relationship that we get through the tough times together. We will get through all this tedium and boring blogging and we will be stronger for it. Anyway, I can't imagine you can do better than me. Go ahead and find someone more entertaining, more interesting than me. DO you think they will care about you the way I care about you?

Hell no! You will be just another face, just another number to them. I give personal service here. We all know each others names. You can trade me in for real celebrity, but you can't get a better community than what we have built here at the Self Help Center.

And I couldn't do it without you.