Friday, November 24, 2006
I need a nap and some happy pills.
I am bored out of my damned mind today. The most I have done is walked around. I haven’t even drank today, I am that bored. Now, that’s saying something. I think what I am supposed to be doing is writing everyday. I heard from my ex today. We had a falling out a long time ago, but as usual. It never becomes a long lasting beef. I got my phone turned on and surprisingly, it was her. I don’t mean to gloat, but she is in an even more shittier relationship then ours was. Pretty funny stuff. Sometimes they always come back in some way. We had a discussion about my favorite subject. Relationships, and why are they even legal. If it was up to me, women and men would just sign a contract to be together for a year, and at the end of the year you can choose to extend it or not. There would be certain clauses of course. Like, felatio in the morning. No nagging as soon as I get home. When a certain look is used upon you, it is required that she shuts the fuck up. Don’t want to sound harsh, but, that’s what we are thinking half the times. So my ex says to me that she was livid after we broke up, because I jumped into something very soon after. So in her mind she figured that I was already talking to someone romantically. I could understand why she would be pissed because basically, I was, and I denied it. And she, a sag like me is crazy sensitive, and can sense things a mile away. Matter of fact, she is still mad at that. Its been over 3 years almost. She was even more upset because I kept trying to say that, that was not the case. You can just tell when someone is lying to you. At least I can. She blurts out, “so, you were already fucking her?” I wasn’t, but I know I was going too. She ended up not even being worth it. Blahhh. But I will call her on a lonely drunk ass night. I am so bored and tired. You ever meet anyone that justs over emphasizes things so that it sounds believable, to you and themselves? This was us. We always talk about making the perfect movie together, making the perfect romantic script. We are just either too lazy, or too unfocused to complete it. We have come up with a few titles though; “You lying sack of shit!!” was one, but I don’t think that people that have a problem with bowel movements would support it. Or, “Stalk the one your with”, my personal favorite. You know how many times I went to ole girl’s house, expecting some dude to be there, only to have her narcoleptic ass answer the door finally talking about, “I’m glad I know how to push your buttons”. Wait, Im going to stop writing now, call her up and curse her out. Its therapeutic.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Useless babble.
How does someone, or how can someone tell they are being lied too? Is it a gut feeling? I happen to believe that some have been lying to themselves for so long, that they pick up on others. Make sense? Perhaps not, but that’s what I am rolling with. Dealing with someone like that is like pulling teeth. For instance, this to me is funny. You ever just heard the lamest excuse about something? And in you heart of hearts you knew there was something more. And if you are like me and happen to be overly analytical, then you will try to dissect it down to the bone. And then finally when the truth does come out, the other is mad as shit. It’s almost comical. My therapists said I should conquer pain and disgust with writing. I haven’t done that in so long. And it feels good to do it, and let it all out. The truth will set you free. But if you keep lying to yourself, and enclose yourself in a fantasy world, then when the reality hits, it will destroy your heart. I can’t deal with fantasy seekers anymore. My life is too real to think of magic all the time. My truth is my struggle, and why I continue to keep waking up everyday to change it, no matter how hard it can be. I need a fantasy, but the truth of life keeps it distant.
Hungry as Shit
I am seriously hungry as shit. What ever happened to meals on wheels? Shit, my phone is off, and I couldn’t call them if they were around. If I still was working, I’d at least be able to bum food off a co-worker. My ID badge might still work. Maybe I can infiltrate the building, and hold people hostage. My demands will be taco bell, and ribs from famous dave’s. Shiiiiiiiiiittttttt.
Full Circle of Squares
Damn it, I've been out of work for damn near a year. I firmly believe that people should get paid to look for work. I mean damn man, there is some live bullshit going on when looking for employment. I guess I have been out of the loop in job hunting as of late. There used to be things called, bear with me now, called INTERVIEWS. I know its crazy right? I mean, sitting down with your prospective employer, going over your background, your skills and such. Just an assessment of you as a potential employee.. But AH HAAAA!!! That shit has been cut out, at least 55%. And you know by what? THE SURVEY. Yes nigga yes, the SURVEY. Now you have to type SURVEY in all caps because that’s how it normally should sound. For instance, when Richard Dawson was on "family feud" he would say THE SURVEY SAYS, right? Good, I'm Glad you’re following me, because even though I am the author of this, I too can and may get lost. It’s a skill I normally leave off of my cover letter.
See, I'm lost now, just that fast. Someone called me and my train of thought went out the window. I really thought better and clearer when I was smoking plenty-o-weed. But I have not smoked in a long time, and I am thinking of a future in politics. And there isn’t anything worse then some dude who worked at Pathmark with you coming out to say "we blazed all the time" during the primaries. The person on the phone was no other then my ex. No, not the off balanced chick from the previous blog entry. But an ex from freshman year of high school. I am currently in a relationship, and she knows this, but when she calls lately she is playing or singing Mariah Carey's "we belong together". I always laugh, because it’s funny and cute, but her dumb ass phone is always on some other mess and hangs up before I can say something in response. She has a man, and two kids with him and they are happy together at least once a month. When we talk, I know what the issue is. She wants the damn engagement ring. "After eight years with this (expletive), don’t you think I should get it?” she says. I always agree, and try to apologize for the dude, but I know better then to say too much, because her mouth is still like a sailor's when she's pissed. When she does call, we normally talk about the past, when we were kids. 15 year old kids. I mean, she and I go back before bills had to be paid. We go back like African medallions, and cross color jeans and shit.
When we talk about the past, we always get into an argument about something. Who broke up with who, who lied to whom, who cheated on who, etc etc. I'm still upset that I am just finding out that what she told me her middle name was is actually some shit she made up at that moment in time. She has no middle name. Lmao. Wait, that shit ain't funny *mad face* we was each other's first or second loves, as goofy as it sounds, it was true. I was her first, ya know first to get in the pan-teeeeeez. She be killing me with the ole "you was hurting me, all you said was relax boo, relax". Being such a man, I have blocked that from my memory. In fact, being older and more sensitive, I'd say that I stopped, and I offered her some cocoa and some Twinkies. And waited for her to be ready to continue with the event. She laughs at that notion, and then I say then, "Well, after that day, you sure came to the crib and were but naked before we got to the top step". Strangely, the phone always goes dead after that comment.
Full circle. My ex shall remain nameless. I mean, she didn’t have a middle name, so she won’t have one here on the blog. Nameless, when we were together would always come down to the store that I worked at since I was maybe 12 or so. A small mom & pop business machine store. They sold, bought, and fixed typewriters, check writers, registers, shit like that. I would get there at 3 or 4 everyday, and she would show up 10 to 15 minutes later like clockwork. I know for a fact that nameless knows nothing about the internet or computers, so what I am going to say will have no backlash. How I kept that job is straight crazy because as soon as she came in, we would go to the back and kiss and fanga bang like it was the cure to the deficit. I am sure my fingers smelled like coochie for the next two years because of such actions. Ahhh, the smell of it.
See, I'm lost now, just that fast. Someone called me and my train of thought went out the window. I really thought better and clearer when I was smoking plenty-o-weed. But I have not smoked in a long time, and I am thinking of a future in politics. And there isn’t anything worse then some dude who worked at Pathmark with you coming out to say "we blazed all the time" during the primaries. The person on the phone was no other then my ex. No, not the off balanced chick from the previous blog entry. But an ex from freshman year of high school. I am currently in a relationship, and she knows this, but when she calls lately she is playing or singing Mariah Carey's "we belong together". I always laugh, because it’s funny and cute, but her dumb ass phone is always on some other mess and hangs up before I can say something in response. She has a man, and two kids with him and they are happy together at least once a month. When we talk, I know what the issue is. She wants the damn engagement ring. "After eight years with this (expletive), don’t you think I should get it?” she says. I always agree, and try to apologize for the dude, but I know better then to say too much, because her mouth is still like a sailor's when she's pissed. When she does call, we normally talk about the past, when we were kids. 15 year old kids. I mean, she and I go back before bills had to be paid. We go back like African medallions, and cross color jeans and shit.
When we talk about the past, we always get into an argument about something. Who broke up with who, who lied to whom, who cheated on who, etc etc. I'm still upset that I am just finding out that what she told me her middle name was is actually some shit she made up at that moment in time. She has no middle name. Lmao. Wait, that shit ain't funny *mad face* we was each other's first or second loves, as goofy as it sounds, it was true. I was her first, ya know first to get in the pan-teeeeeez. She be killing me with the ole "you was hurting me, all you said was relax boo, relax". Being such a man, I have blocked that from my memory. In fact, being older and more sensitive, I'd say that I stopped, and I offered her some cocoa and some Twinkies. And waited for her to be ready to continue with the event. She laughs at that notion, and then I say then, "Well, after that day, you sure came to the crib and were but naked before we got to the top step". Strangely, the phone always goes dead after that comment.
Full circle. My ex shall remain nameless. I mean, she didn’t have a middle name, so she won’t have one here on the blog. Nameless, when we were together would always come down to the store that I worked at since I was maybe 12 or so. A small mom & pop business machine store. They sold, bought, and fixed typewriters, check writers, registers, shit like that. I would get there at 3 or 4 everyday, and she would show up 10 to 15 minutes later like clockwork. I know for a fact that nameless knows nothing about the internet or computers, so what I am going to say will have no backlash. How I kept that job is straight crazy because as soon as she came in, we would go to the back and kiss and fanga bang like it was the cure to the deficit. I am sure my fingers smelled like coochie for the next two years because of such actions. Ahhh, the smell of it.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Non cigarette smokers are the most hypocritical people on the face of the earth. It’ like the world is against us smokers. I know its bad for you and all, and some biased studies have even said it is bad for other people. I still refuse to believe that. But who am I? the worse hypocrites are mafuggas that smoke blunts. Arrrggghhh!!! Or anyone that uses any drugs period. I once had a mafugga in front of me shooting heroin in his arm talking about, “man, them things will kill you”. Man, shut the fuck up, didn’t you find that needle in the middle of Washington square park? Lemme take out this cancer stick out the blunt yo. Lemme take out this cancer stick out the blunt yo. Nigga, its still a tobacco leaf!!!
The worse ones are the effing idiots that have a fake ass cough when you are smoking around them. “coughcough” shut the fuck up!!! Hypocrites!!! Fuck it, I smoke. And the more people tell me I should quit, the more I light up. And besides that, I drink like a fish, so I need something to keep focused on while I am falling out of my chair. I bust my ass eventually, but you will never see that cigarette drop, nope, nada. I once dated a crazy vain chick who said to me that, she didn’t want to grow old, she wanted to die while she was still beautiful. Then here’s the hypocritical shit. She then tells me that she wants me to “prolong my life, and wants us to grow old together. You’re going to kill you and me”. I’m like what the fuck?!!! So I say, “sweety, you just said that you want to die young, well shit, I am trying to help YOUR ass out, you don’t appreciate shit, do you?!!!
The world is full of hypocrites. People that don’t eat pork, always telling me that i’m going to die eating that shit. Don’t you know the same mafugga that was shooting heroin with a dirty needle told me that, ‘that stuff will kill ya” me= screw face. Why I ought a. you know what will kill you? Stress. Stress will kill any sorry bastard. Ive been so stressed out lately. Like, I know my landlord who lives downstairs from me owns a few guns, so it is pretty stressful trying to sneak in and out the house. He smokes, and I tried to pay him with cartons. No dice.
Women stress the living hell out of me. Its like we men cannot do anything right. Always being directed. Bossed around. Lemme tell ya. Never never ever ever ever take money from your woman. She wont let you forget it boy. And if you don’t say thank you within the first 3 seconds of receiving it, be prepared for war. A woman that will help you out financially will talk down to you like you were the first born piece of shit. Like you were an ugly baby with a lisp, and a problem with loose bowels. Seriously.
I know for a fact that I have a sign on my forehead that only crazy women see. It has to read; I love crazy bitches. It just has too. Anyone here ever have an online relationship? I mean a serious online relationship. You know your up all night chatting. Sending heart smileys and shit. Your in jersey, she’s in Oklahoma. Man shit, the internet is full of liars. Do you know how many records I produced, how many books I wrote, how many planes I flew while sitting on my ass in my boxers, smoking a cigarette, only leaving the monitor because I thought the mailman was there with my unemployment check? Sheeiiiittttt. If it was up to me I would have ran a senate campaign from my studio apartment. Don’t get me wrong, I love women, its just that sometimes you all don’t know when to shut the hell up. I may go online and look for a deaf or mute chick. Man that would be fucking splendid. Maybe not deaf though, because I’m in no mood to walk around with a chalkboard all day. Bitch, this aint pictionary. No no no, that isn’t a picture of a donut, that’s your pussy.
I had sex with a deaf woman before. I have a conscious and all, but when it was time for me to go while she was sleep, I didn’t have any paper to write down that I had to go ya know, and I used up all the paper in my notebook trying to convince her to even have sex. I know the next time I saw her it wasn’t good. You have not been cursed out until you have been cursed out buy a deaf chick. Mumble mumble mumble with exclamation marks.
They say I suffer from depression. No shit I say. Have you seen my paycheck, or lack thereof? I think most of us suffer because we fucked up a lot in the past, and alllll of that comes back, and bites you in the ass.
Suicidal thoughts are a bitch. I used to smoke a lot of weed, and just dwell on shit. Then get sad and what not. But I guess it was kind of good, because weed makes you lazy as shit. And p-noid. Weed is the gateway drug. I don’t believe that shit at all. If a mafugga started smoking weed, and then elevated to some other shit. That just means it was in that bastards destiny to become a crackhead.
I am serious, that is science, scientifically studied by renowned scientists who’s job it is to practice science and come up with scientific deductions. When someone comes and tell me, “Yo man I am a recovering crack addict” I say, you shouldn’t feel bad, because that was meant for you, that shit is destiny. Ya see, me, I am very spiritual, now I am not blaming God for this, I blame the guardian angels, im sure its divided up there like republicans and democrats. If you have a democrat, chances are you gonna be fucked up in the game. It was your destiny to pick up the pipe and sell your own momma’s jewelry. Its like you should have known when you was a child and played the flute. Matter of fact, you may have even sold that very flute.
I know a lot about destiny. Like when I start a new job, I say “I know I’m going to get fired from here” you know why? Because it’s destiny man. Actually, I am tired of losing jobs because of this syndrome I have. Its called the angry black man syndrome. I thought it was a myth until I went past the funny mirrors at the company picnic and saw I was the only nigga not smiling. And I was under the impression that them shits are supposed to change the appearance. And lets not forget that I smoke, and I have to take a smoke break after everything I have done, so like if I have 10 things to do at work, that’s 10 breaks. Shit, it’s called the 8 hour science.
Do they have tests for adults that see if you are retarded or not? I want to take one man. I need an excuse for half of the shit I do. I know that I have to be, because bright lights hurt my eyes. And I be blinking and shit, twitching. Now it is either that or I’m an albino with the best tan 30 years running.
I don’t think that retard is the pc thing to say, but if the tests come back positive, I am going to protest to bring back the term. How can you ask a mentally challenged person to say mentally challenged, without spitting in someone’s eye. Man, I’m hoping hell isn’t a real place. Because I see the online congrats invitation right damned now.
I don’t like when people look directly at me. I sometimes feel violent, because I think they are trying to steal my soul or something. Like when old people look at me for too long, I think they are trying to steal my youth. I know that’s science because the next day, I don’t feel like masturbating more then once, I am watching infomercials. There are pains in my body. Places I never knew existed hurt. But when people look at me with intensity, I feel my soul leaving, it may be crazy, but I even make the noise that you hear when your soul is leaving. Orrghhhh Haaahnnn Whooaaa Arrggggghh. Bitchhhhhhhhhh fades out.
This is therapeutic.
Someone said I should slow down on m drinking. And I say, you should speed up or something. I have a problem with perfection. Actually, I think its cool to have a lot of damn problems. You know what, I do drink too much and I will admit it here tonight. After I drink a couple of more drinks, I will admit it. You know, I don’t really like to admit to my faults, that’s being a loser, and losers quit, and for me to quit drinking would be a fuckin shame.
You all know that the end of the world is in 2008 right? It’s Science.
The worse ones are the effing idiots that have a fake ass cough when you are smoking around them. “coughcough” shut the fuck up!!! Hypocrites!!! Fuck it, I smoke. And the more people tell me I should quit, the more I light up. And besides that, I drink like a fish, so I need something to keep focused on while I am falling out of my chair. I bust my ass eventually, but you will never see that cigarette drop, nope, nada. I once dated a crazy vain chick who said to me that, she didn’t want to grow old, she wanted to die while she was still beautiful. Then here’s the hypocritical shit. She then tells me that she wants me to “prolong my life, and wants us to grow old together. You’re going to kill you and me”. I’m like what the fuck?!!! So I say, “sweety, you just said that you want to die young, well shit, I am trying to help YOUR ass out, you don’t appreciate shit, do you?!!!
The world is full of hypocrites. People that don’t eat pork, always telling me that i’m going to die eating that shit. Don’t you know the same mafugga that was shooting heroin with a dirty needle told me that, ‘that stuff will kill ya” me= screw face. Why I ought a. you know what will kill you? Stress. Stress will kill any sorry bastard. Ive been so stressed out lately. Like, I know my landlord who lives downstairs from me owns a few guns, so it is pretty stressful trying to sneak in and out the house. He smokes, and I tried to pay him with cartons. No dice.
Women stress the living hell out of me. Its like we men cannot do anything right. Always being directed. Bossed around. Lemme tell ya. Never never ever ever ever take money from your woman. She wont let you forget it boy. And if you don’t say thank you within the first 3 seconds of receiving it, be prepared for war. A woman that will help you out financially will talk down to you like you were the first born piece of shit. Like you were an ugly baby with a lisp, and a problem with loose bowels. Seriously.
I know for a fact that I have a sign on my forehead that only crazy women see. It has to read; I love crazy bitches. It just has too. Anyone here ever have an online relationship? I mean a serious online relationship. You know your up all night chatting. Sending heart smileys and shit. Your in jersey, she’s in Oklahoma. Man shit, the internet is full of liars. Do you know how many records I produced, how many books I wrote, how many planes I flew while sitting on my ass in my boxers, smoking a cigarette, only leaving the monitor because I thought the mailman was there with my unemployment check? Sheeiiiittttt. If it was up to me I would have ran a senate campaign from my studio apartment. Don’t get me wrong, I love women, its just that sometimes you all don’t know when to shut the hell up. I may go online and look for a deaf or mute chick. Man that would be fucking splendid. Maybe not deaf though, because I’m in no mood to walk around with a chalkboard all day. Bitch, this aint pictionary. No no no, that isn’t a picture of a donut, that’s your pussy.
I had sex with a deaf woman before. I have a conscious and all, but when it was time for me to go while she was sleep, I didn’t have any paper to write down that I had to go ya know, and I used up all the paper in my notebook trying to convince her to even have sex. I know the next time I saw her it wasn’t good. You have not been cursed out until you have been cursed out buy a deaf chick. Mumble mumble mumble with exclamation marks.
They say I suffer from depression. No shit I say. Have you seen my paycheck, or lack thereof? I think most of us suffer because we fucked up a lot in the past, and alllll of that comes back, and bites you in the ass.
Suicidal thoughts are a bitch. I used to smoke a lot of weed, and just dwell on shit. Then get sad and what not. But I guess it was kind of good, because weed makes you lazy as shit. And p-noid. Weed is the gateway drug. I don’t believe that shit at all. If a mafugga started smoking weed, and then elevated to some other shit. That just means it was in that bastards destiny to become a crackhead.
I am serious, that is science, scientifically studied by renowned scientists who’s job it is to practice science and come up with scientific deductions. When someone comes and tell me, “Yo man I am a recovering crack addict” I say, you shouldn’t feel bad, because that was meant for you, that shit is destiny. Ya see, me, I am very spiritual, now I am not blaming God for this, I blame the guardian angels, im sure its divided up there like republicans and democrats. If you have a democrat, chances are you gonna be fucked up in the game. It was your destiny to pick up the pipe and sell your own momma’s jewelry. Its like you should have known when you was a child and played the flute. Matter of fact, you may have even sold that very flute.
I know a lot about destiny. Like when I start a new job, I say “I know I’m going to get fired from here” you know why? Because it’s destiny man. Actually, I am tired of losing jobs because of this syndrome I have. Its called the angry black man syndrome. I thought it was a myth until I went past the funny mirrors at the company picnic and saw I was the only nigga not smiling. And I was under the impression that them shits are supposed to change the appearance. And lets not forget that I smoke, and I have to take a smoke break after everything I have done, so like if I have 10 things to do at work, that’s 10 breaks. Shit, it’s called the 8 hour science.
Do they have tests for adults that see if you are retarded or not? I want to take one man. I need an excuse for half of the shit I do. I know that I have to be, because bright lights hurt my eyes. And I be blinking and shit, twitching. Now it is either that or I’m an albino with the best tan 30 years running.
I don’t think that retard is the pc thing to say, but if the tests come back positive, I am going to protest to bring back the term. How can you ask a mentally challenged person to say mentally challenged, without spitting in someone’s eye. Man, I’m hoping hell isn’t a real place. Because I see the online congrats invitation right damned now.
I don’t like when people look directly at me. I sometimes feel violent, because I think they are trying to steal my soul or something. Like when old people look at me for too long, I think they are trying to steal my youth. I know that’s science because the next day, I don’t feel like masturbating more then once, I am watching infomercials. There are pains in my body. Places I never knew existed hurt. But when people look at me with intensity, I feel my soul leaving, it may be crazy, but I even make the noise that you hear when your soul is leaving. Orrghhhh Haaahnnn Whooaaa Arrggggghh. Bitchhhhhhhhhh fades out.
This is therapeutic.
Someone said I should slow down on m drinking. And I say, you should speed up or something. I have a problem with perfection. Actually, I think its cool to have a lot of damn problems. You know what, I do drink too much and I will admit it here tonight. After I drink a couple of more drinks, I will admit it. You know, I don’t really like to admit to my faults, that’s being a loser, and losers quit, and for me to quit drinking would be a fuckin shame.
You all know that the end of the world is in 2008 right? It’s Science.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
I used to write poetry
Iused to write poetry.I was never very good at it. I recited poetry in high school and even competed for awards. However, I barely won, because I would take a poem and make it my own. I am always one for spicing it up a little bit. For example...
How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck sux and gets fucked in the but.
Auto fukkin matically disqualified.
How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck sux and gets fucked in the but.
Auto fukkin matically disqualified.