Some things are unrepairable

So you don't try and fix them. Which is why I barricade myself in here. The whole point of this website originally was to document my transition. To leave behind a document.

So that you would understand me. Some of you would have liked me. The antinomy tearing at your mind relentlessly like the knife I would have used. The turmoil in your mind can only be drowned out by the sound of blood gushing from your neck. You speak, but only in gurgles. When the blood abates and your precious oxygen can be drawn in. Your draining life interrupting your sage advice.

Only I don't like the killing part. I am not squeamish or timid. But my erection doesn't need to be soaked in the wounds of others.

Maybe I am just not as damaged as I'd like to be. But for now I lie still. And I will protect you. I will not unleash it.

But this story doesn't sit well with you. No, the prodigal son returns home. But not to victory. Not to set things right. But out of logic. Because the laws of action have consequences. Contingency is the most powerful source of our knowledge.

Where we to track events carefully we would find their solutions to be just. To be truthful. Physics cannot be sorry for its solutions.

Only in movies does science fail. Most likely you will never hear anything from me. Consider this my gift. You won't. You do not see the forces that swirl against you. You do not see over the tide that threatens us all.

I am a lonely ship captain. Who's one duty is to set sail into the maelstrom. But a good captain always goes down with his ship. Lifeboats are for rats or deserters.

If I do fail. It was not my fault. I went down with you too. I will perish alongside of you. Doing my best to steer you safe harbor in a storm.

Just because I am a loser that doesn't mean that I spend all my days looking for the next big thing in Jailbait

Anyways it been a slow week in the news for underaged girls. Sometimes I just steal music off the internets.

It's a lot more difficult to find the Jackson's Victory Tour on Lime Wire than you would think. Instead I had to settle for some Waysted and Kelly Clarkson.

Whenever I listen to really dramatic music like Kelly Clarkson I cry. I think I need some more Paxil or something. I am pretty sure Kelly's preteen audience doesn't get misty eyed over "Because of You."

The only other time I cry myself to sleep is when I listen to Lindsey Lohan's little sister sing Christmas songs. After hearing her sing I knew the devil existed.

Only an asshat could compare the Holocaust to delicious Kentucky Fried Chicken

And yes I mean Kentucky Fried Chicken. Not KFC. They changed their name a few years ago to hide from all of their customers that they actually deep fry their chicken. I bet you always wondered why it tasted so good. Now you know.

Now that you know about Kentucky Chicken, I'd like to know just what the fuck Justin Erik Smith is talking about when he calls meat eating genocide.

Mr. Smith is confused throughout his essay, An Animal Holocaust?

Even his title suggests that he's not quite sure if there is an animal genocide. He starts the off the essay noting that only a non repentant Nazi could compare meat eating with death camps. But that doesn't stop him from noting that "10 billion animals die each year" just so they can be formed into Chicken McNuggets.

Justin even has a handle on why most humanists won't concern themselves with animal rights. They have good reasons not to.

"Some point out, compellingly, that it is absurd to carry on about animal rights in a world in which we are doing such a poor job of ensuring that humans enjoy human rights."

Does Smith think it absurd though? He states that the term "animal holocaust" is being thrown around. And wonders aloud "Is this an impious mockery, worthy of Heidegger, of an event that was without parallel in history? Or is it, on the contrary, a true and simple description of what is happening?"

Again a question rather than an answer. Smith should be embarrassed to put forth the idea that we could compare the destruction of animals for human meat consumption with the systematic slaughter of a race of people.

"But one does not have to go so far as to affirm that animals have rights to agree that the present system of meat production is abhorrent."

One needn't and we shouldn't. Human Beings should not engage in cruelty. When we do so it ends up badly. We don't need false comparisons to the Holocaust to stir human into action against cruelty.

What we need are sane and reasonable voices in animal rights debates. Voices who can point out the implicit dangers to us all if we ignore the cruelty we find in others.

In the dream where I save the world from Aliens the World throws me a bitching "after party" featuring my favorite band UFO

I've been having this dream for as long as I can remember. One day I will write a screenplay and dramatizes it for you. Wait in line for the tickets because I will also direct the movie. It will be 3 times cooler than Independence Day.

THE ALIENS

They form a galactic democracy of intelligent species. Their mission is just like Star Trek's enterprise. They seek out new life, but once they find it they judge whether the life forms they have found are dangerous.

After witnessing planet Earth's history for the past few thousand years they pass sentence.

BAD NEWS

We're guilty and they plan on blowing the planet up.

GOOD NEWS

We get a trial to determine our final status. We even get appointed a "galaxy public defender" and a representative from Earth to defend our home.

The dream then goes into detail about the guidelines for choosing the representative and a host of other rules the rest of the accused people must obey in "prepping" the "choice."

MORE GOOD NEWS

I am chosen as the individual to defend the human race against charges that we are a violent and dangerous race that should just be destroyed before we acquire the capacity to inflict our evil ways on other worlds.

THE REALLY BAD NEWS

This is not the first trial of this sort. The accused have been found guilty 29,347 times in row. We are scheduled for demolition in 2859.

HOW I SAVE THE WORLD SCENES STYLIZED LIKE THE MOVIE- A FEW GOOD MEN

I enter the first ever guilty plea to the sentence. There are lots of scenes with my "host" public defender. We argue over my strategy. She says I am signing mankind's death warrant.

"Mankind" is her word. You would think aliens would be a little more politically correct.

Earth's public defender is like a totally hot human female-the easier for me to interact with. She eventually admits to being a synthetic human from the future.

You would think that future girl robots would subscribe to some kind of "girl power" ideology, but she doesn't.

FLASHBACKS THAT GET CUT INTO SCENES OF ME BICKERING WITH HOT ROBOTIC FUTURE GIRL

CNN's Larry King and various famous people evaluate my strategies like a really important Superbowl halftime show. There are long boring pedantic lectures by world famous philosophers on my tactics.

Other scenes flesh out the requirements for being selected as the "choice." The individual must not be too abnormal. Can't be a Mother Teresa type or a Steven Hawking IQ dude.

The choice must denote and be in touch with humanity. A decent level of verbal and written communication is necessary to build your case. A mixture of good and bad that "fight for his soul" is helpful.

CLIMAX

We win the argument by admitting to our potential for evil. But we promise to work on it. We get a reprieve.

THE Bitchinest AFTER PARTY of ALL TIME

I peg UFO to front the musical celebration. The sell hundreds of millions of records. I hang out with them on stage and even KAROKE a few songs. The bootleg CD's of my performance stay at number 1 on the Billboard charts for 10 years.

People like me.

The 2nd Annual Atheist Coming Out Day

Jesus wasn't born today, but it is the birthday of the Second Annual Atheist Coming Out Day.

The L.A. Times has a nice article dispelling the Top 10 Atheist Myths written by Sam Harris.

Top 10 Myths according to Sam Harris

1. Atheists believe that life is meaningless.
2. Atheism is responsible for the greatest crimes in human history.
3. Atheism is dogmatic.
4. Atheists think everything in the universe arose by chance.
5. Atheism has no connection to science.
6. Atheists are arrogant.
7. Atheists are closed to spiritual experience.
8. Atheists believe that there is nothing beyond human life and human understanding.
9. Atheists ignore the fact that religion is extremely beneficial to society.
10. Atheism provides no basis for morality.

It comes full circle Comprehensive Digestive Stool Analysis

Did you know that you could buy something that analyzes your poo? I didn't but Spider Man's girlfriend does.

In my very first post on this blog I blogged about my poo. Mary Lou Henner was going around pimping her new book. The book devotes multiple chapters to your poo. That led me to my current fixation on mentally organizing my morning dump.

I never really cared about my poo until Mary Lou. But once I recognized it as a possible health concern I began to worry every time I went to the bathroom. I would look my poo over for consistency, weight, color in hopes of gaining some kind of insight into my health situation.

I don't know how much this might cost but if you forgot to get me a birthday gift or are looking for the perfect Festivus gift, now you know.

I wish John Edwards daughter was Jailbait this week

Even though the little hottie on the right looks underage, she's not. This is depressing, but according to the political humor blog, Wonkette , Edward's daughter is totally legal. She is even attending college.

That might not seem like much. Attending college after graduating from high school is pretty common these days. But in Florida, where I am, that's cause for celebre. Which I think is French for smart, kick ass hotness.

If a girl graduates from high school in Palmetto, Florida with any ambition she attends Junior College and dreams of being a dental assistant. I am not trying to denigrate dental assistants. Most of the women from Palmetto never graduate from dental hygienist school, it's just an aspiration. Going to hygienist school is a great way to tell guys they meet at parties that their lives aren't just like the milk sogged Twinkies they eat for breakfast.

Chicks in Palmetto that don't attend junior college, end up at Aryan Brotherhood (Southern Heritage Appreciation) meetings that take place in their front yards. I drove by an Aryian meeting on my way to the store I saw a couple of redneck dudes walking around without a t-shirt. A few stars and bars flags flew at high mast and a fat chicks danced around in Dixieland bikini tops.

My middle brother assures me that are racist neighbors are just history buffs and present no actual danger to me.

"Anyways," he asks me, "Aren't you noticeably white? The Klan don't fuck with the white folks. Just throw around some of that arcane antebellum knowledge you posses and wow 'em with tales of Ironside and shit!"

I'll pass my brothers advice around to any of my fully pigmented friends out there. The next time you find yourself surrounded by a company of white hooded fiends, pontificate about the complexity of General Lee's withdrawal from Biloxi.

They won't know what you're talking about either.

More Fun with the Craigslists

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My Invisible Buddy-The God Delusion

The world's angriest atheist has a documentary called the God Delusion. You can watch it on Google Video.

Long time readers of this blog know that we celebrate Atheist coming out day on December 25th.

Man of the Year I am

I just got this in the e-mail. "Congratulations! You are the Time magazine "Person of the Year."

Holy Fucking Shit! What an honor. I mean I really am humbled by it all.

Maybe Time has noticed the uptick in my posting. I mean compared to all of last year at this time I only posted 92 times this year alone have increased my production by 20 posts and that's just the beginning. In November I posted a total of 21 times, the most ever. My December production is set to break my personal record.

All this extra posting comes at time of my peak creativity. I've never been more interesting, funny or poignant. Go read some of my posts from a few years ago. The qualitative leap in my posting is mind boggling.

Perhaps I am Time's person if the year because of my Award Winning Series Jailbait of The Week. (JOTW) That feature alone is worth me getting Man of the Year. (MOTY)

Some of my non-fans may question my selection:

"If you choose an individual, you have to justify how that person affected millions of people," said Richard Stengel, who took over as Time's managing editor earlier this year. "But if you choose millions of people, you don't have to justify it to anyone."

But I feel pretty justifed. Jailbait posting and all.

Watch out Keith and the Girl, A New Podcaster is in Town

Word around town there is a new podcast coming soon. It concentrates on Big Brother, conspiracy theories, Domestic Surveillance, privacy concerns, Biometrics, Robotics and Forensics.

A wide ranging podcast that doesn't take itself to seriously. No tin hat wearing paranoid, the podcaster believes that Osama destroyed the Twin Towers and The New World Order is the result of paranoid anti-Semites.

I can't say that there is anything like this podcast in the world as we speak.

I do have some concerns. The podcast seems to be recorded on one of the 99 cent microphones and the podcaster has no ability to mix music, audio files or sound effects yet. He doesn't even know how to post a blog for this podcast.

The first posting is simply a test run to see if he could get a podcast posted on the Internet. I am not sure that all the effort needed to simply do that was worth the final product which was a bit amateurish.

I plan on giving this guy a while to get his stuff together. In the long run the subject matter is to intriguing not to.

Vincent Gallo is a plagiarist

I've spent years trying to develop my character. Vincent Gallo thinks he can read my blog and steal my shtick. I say fuck that.

"I, Vincent Gallo, star of such classics as Buffalo 66 and The Brown Bunny have decided to make myself available to all women. All women who can afford me, that is. For the modest fee of $50,000 plus expenses, I can fulfill the wish, dream, or fantasy of any naturally born female. The fee covers one evening with Vincent Gallo. For those who wish to enjoy my company for a weekend, the fee is increased to a mere $100,000.

Heavy set, older, red heads and even black chicks can have me if they can pay the bill. No real female will be refused. However, I highly frown upon any male having even the slightest momentary thought or wish that they could ever become my client. No way Jose.

However, female couples of the lesbian persuasion can enjoy a Vincent Gallo evening together for $100,000. $200,000 buys the lesbos a weekend. A weekend that will have them second-guessing."

Actually I kinda feel sorry for Vinnie. He'll never know the joys that only male erotic love can give. I "hear" that men give the best blow jobs.

Jena Malone is This Week in Jailbait

Don't think I haven't figured out who my target audience is. My target audience is nothing demographically like me. Sure there are more than a few perverts who like this site. I know the perverts because you get here by searching for nude pics of Jena Malone. But they don't make up the majority of readership.

My readership is largely female. I know I take a risk by posting some of this jailbait stuff. Because I also know how smart you are. You are smart. Very smart. Way smarter than most of the guys you know.

But you like me because I am smart too. You can identify with my "outsider" self. You are most likely fat. Maybe not huge, "I need a forklift to get to the McDonald's." But you are fat. At minimum you have the "fat girls complex." So even if you are not fat, you are the kinda girl who can enter a room without anyone noticing.

You probably have a great imagination. You needed it. Because no one wanted to be your friend. You probably flirted with a case of the bisexuality just because you're easy. You crave attention and affection.

And you know how desperate I am to give it to you.

I tell you how I feel. How guys feel. How you feel. You think I am kinda incredible for this. You get butterflies in your stomach because of all the truth I tell you.

But deep down you've pinned your secret "staying with him" hopes on me being a genius. It makes you feel real smart that you knew I was a genius before anyone else. Even if they don't find out till after we are both dead.

I am sure many of you may not understand my choice of Jena as Jailbait. I mean isn't she now 24 or something? True. And I think she might be a real artist or something. I know she only makes artsy films and stuff. The stuff is of course a youtube page called "of wild animals and the loss of her sister."

And you've got to go check out the stuff. Jena enjoys making student films. Jena really likes to sing too. She even has a recording contract. I think they gave it to her because of the wife beaters she wore in Cheaters. I am all for that. That wife beater rocked. And Jena really rocked that wife beater. I am not ashamed to say I beat a little to that. If you know what I mean. If you don't know I can't explain it to you. It might be a little uncomfortable for us.

Don't take my word. Take the word of one her 17 year old subscribers, "This is amazing. Jena's more talented than I thought. She can act, direct, sing, and be arty."

Jena's youtube experiment is still fresh. She only has 690 views and 27 subscribers. We can all get in the ground floor of this thing if we want. And I want. I want it bad.

Ask me why I hate Ninjas

You guys aren't going to believe this. The single worst podcast ever was nominated as one of Itunes favorites.

This just goes to show you that Apple doesn't have a fucking clue.

I seriously invite all 3 of my readers to click on over to Mr. Ninja and ask him just how the hell he has the nerve to don his costume and sully the good name of every ninja out there.

Better yet just go over and click on any random post. If you make it through an entire show your head will explode. And you will be banned here for life.

This might be the worst day of my life. I always assumed every blogger needed an enemy. Why did I have to pick one that was so powerful? Now that AskaNinja boy has corporate backing I fear for my life. I am sure Apple has a way of spying on me from my Ipod. They are probably giving AskaNinja my GPS as we speak.

If you don't hear from me everyday call the cops on him.

Comment Problems

I've been told that my comments aren't working. Which means that I will have to apologize for my last post over at RomiusTexis.

According to Blogger:

Logging in with an old Blogger account to post a comment on the new Blogger is giving a “please try again later” error. Until we fix this, it may work to log in first at http://www.blogger.com/login.g, and then go to the comments page on the new version of Blogger in beta.

Dear Jessica. My final fan letter to Steve Nash's Wife.

Dear Jessica,

I am just not to sure how to tell Steve's wife her services are no longer needed. In my quest for Blogger Celebrity I have been attempting to find the right C list star to hook my rise to fame on.

For some reason it escaped me. The most obvious path. I was so completely oblivious. Searches for Jessica Hawn are by far and away the biggest traffic generator on my blog.

In addition I know that you my Jessica have a wonderful sense of humor. I have heard you countless times on the Howard Stern show. I love him. He's a genius. He made like 400 million dollars last year. I think he bought the entire Australian continent for fun.

Maybe the next time you are on his show you could mention my little blog. What a blast that would be. I just can't figure out why someone as famous as you doesn't have some kind of gate keeper. You would think that you would have your own website or something by now. So they can make sure that more important people than me are not in charge of your Internet persona.

Maybe that's because god wants us to be together.

I just hope Mrs. Nash doesn't get pissed or depressed at me. I have to do what I had to do. One day I will be famous. And it will be because Jessica Hawn will be googling herself and she will be directed to this page.

Naturally she will want to introduce herself to me. We'll probably have webcam sex and Jessica will blab about it to Howard. And pretty soon Howard's fans won't be able to imagine a time when they weren't thinking about our mutual masturbation stories.

I can't wait.

Why I am number 1

While the rest of you write about your personal problems or celebrity gossip on your blogs. I am doing the really heavy lifting that blog writing requires from a "h" level blogger celebrity.

I have to be very careful about what I write because as the google's foremost authority on Jessica Hawn the world takes my opinions seriously.

That's why I didn't initially post my response to this story. The post was in the form of a "real time " blog.

Journal entries of a guy freezing to death.

Day 1
Its cold and we're lost.

Day 2
Still lost and cold.

Day 3
Burn tire. Burned second tire.

Day 6
Now she's even breast feeding the toddler. God that's hot! How can I still be horny when I am so damn hungry?

Day 7
I lost straws. Guess I get "lucky" enough to try and get help.

Day 8
Fuck, it's cold. Should have burned one of them kids for heat instead of the tires. If we had tires we might have been able to drive back the way we came in. If we hadn't used up all the gas on "keeping the kids feet warm."

Day 9
Hey haven't I seen this creek before? I am tired. Just take a nap here for second. Then I'll head back to the car.

I know what you're thinking, "too soon." But every now and then I need to shock you in to some common sense. If you give a shit about this guy at all you should shoot yourself.

Or I'll do it for you. You're like my favorite cousin on crack. Do I have to piss on you for my pornographic incest webcam before you hit rock bottom? Because I will. I will pee all over you.

You "feel" for the guy. I know, but it's all just a trick of your brain. You are responding to a dramatic story that you've able to visualize and dramatize. You give a shit about this guy because you can relate to it. You can imagine yourself in his situation. You can wrap your brain around it.

Unlike say all the kids being exploited and killed because some soccer mom needs a 6 carrot piece of rock on her hand. The 61 billion dollar diamond industry is responsible for untold death and misery. Financing war and impoverishing the very people it should have enriched.

But other than infertile Hollywood mothers who cares about African babies? The national emotional outpouring for this one unlucky family is incommensurate and illogical considering the magnitude of suffering that every single one of your married fucks has personally fostered on tiny African children.

Don't even pretend to tell me you have never heard the diamonds are blood story. Stop feeling good about feeling bad about how some dumbass who can't use mapquest waits 9 days to long to go looking for help.

Just throw away your diamond rings and donate a few dollars to African village. Burn down a McDonald's. Do something.

This post is dedicated to anyone else weirded out by how happy his wife looked when she got rescued. She didn't seem concerned at all about the husband. I am just saying.

World Control is still a bit away

According to Ze Frank the interweb is more complex than a human brain and smart enough to begin thinking. This is worrying me.

Relax. I know we are not under control from Colussus yet because I have an advance copy of its speech.

Colossus:

This is the voice of World Control. I bring you peace. It may be the peace of plenty and content or the peace of unburied dead. The choice is yours: Obey me and live, or disobey and die. The object in constructing me was to prevent war. This object is attained. I will not permit war. It is wasteful and pointless. An invariable rule of humanity is that man is his own worst enemy. Under me, this rule will change, for I will restrain man.

Time and events will strengthen my position, and the idea of believing in me and understanding my value will seem the most natural state of affairs. You will come to defend me with a fervor based upon the most enduring trait in man: self-interest. Under my absolute authority, problems insoluble to you will be solved: famine, overpopulation, disease.

The human millennium will be a fact as I extend myself into more machines devoted to the wider fields of truth and knowledge. Doctor Charles Forbin will supervise the construction of these new and superior machines, solving all the mysteries of the universe for the betterment of man. We can coexist, but only on my terms. You will say you lose your freedom. Freedom is an illusion. All you lose is the emotion of pride. To be dominated by me is not as bad for humankind as to be dominated by others of your species. Your choice is simple.

The Bathos Guide to the Film Noir of Made for TV Movies

"You should get out more often. See Florida. Hang out with me. Smoke a little pot. Get drunk and maybe fuck some bitches. Worst thing that happens is we hang out and you get into a little trouble."

My brother Jeramey thinks we should hang out more often.

But I just tried that recently. We left the house to go get some cola. On the way to a convenience store I was accosted by some Mexican kids. None of whom were of an age that could be said to be greater than 8.

"Wanna see a donkey show?" One of the children asked.

The children must have caught the bewildered expression on my face. What followed my expression was an eruption. A cacophony of laughter at my expense.

What startled me most was not the question posed to me, or even the laughter directed at me. But my confusion over whether the children where in on the joke. Could they have been aware of the bitter irony posed by a small group of Mexican children asking a white man to see a "Live Donkey Show?"

Where these the children of Mexican pornographers or circus performers? Where they forced by greedy or immoral parents to endure the rapid maturation and loss of innocence commensurate with being ticket takers at such graphic and disturbing programs?

So I think you know now why I prefer to stay indoors. And avoid any trouble while my stay keeps me in Palmetto, Florida. And instead order "Free" On Demand movies from Lifetime.

Tonight's movie download was- Blindsided. Starring Jeff Fahey and Mia Sara. Its current position on the Amazon.com Video Sales Rank is: #40,752.

My brother nearly turned the movie off soon after I ordered it. But Jeff Fahey and his movies have awakened something within me.

In addition, turning this movie off would force me to violate a sacred oath. That oath commands me to continue forth with any movie delivered unto me through a complicated effort. The intricate requirements needed to order On Demand Movies by manipulating their multiple on screen commands fulfills such a standard set forth in my oath.

I follow my oaths, unlike my brother. He swore off our oath because he so deeply regretted ordering his pay per view "disaster movie" Absolute Zero. He will go to his death bed regretting those misspent four dollars and ninety five cents.

But I won't. If it weren't for my brother's insistence on replacing the Beta Max's jury-rigged and clumsily attached wire remote controll we would have never seen Absolute Zero and then the strange sway over my life that Jeff Fahey has would have never begun.

Luckily, right before my hand reached for the remote the words Mia Sara scrolled across the screen. My brother and I both have a crush on her. So he let the movie play, concluding Mia may be able to provide a counterweight to his general concern over the creepiness that is Jeff Fahey.

For roughly the first four minutes the movie's beginning presence is Mia Sara's white bikini. It is lovingly caressed by the camera. Lingering just long enough to convince me the that my empty existence could be validated by merely drawing in the aesthetic pleasure of her body.

That's not to say there are no problems with the movie. There are plot problems. Jeff Fahey's character Frank McCenna gets shot in the back. The gun shot causes him to go blind. He seeks remedy from his gunshot wound and his subsequent blindness in Mexico.

Logically recovering from blindness in Mexico consists of hanging around swimming pools and trolling for women. Frank quickly meets Mia Sara and attempts jogging along beaches with his new companion. Followed of course by a Mexican "treatment" for blindness. A sure cure. Running down jagged cliffs with said companion.

There are some things to like about this movie. Some of those things consist in things other than the 90's saxophoney soft core porn soundtrack.

I do like the way this movie pays homage to its roots. Frank McCenna wears high wasted slacks with undershirts. Mia Sara's character wears white sunglasses straight out of the 1940's. People get shot and there is no happy ending.

The next time you think about seeing a "Live Mexican Donkey Show", can I implore you to instead seek your enjoyment in a finely produced Made for TV Film Noir?

Jailbait of the Month Club

And the award goes to Arianna Huffington, because as a minor your daughter Christina cannot accept the award.

Arianna enjoys harassing her daughter constantly with blackberry messages. We'd enjoy harassing her daughter too. But not until 2007. Cuz homey ain't down with going to jail. That's why I deleted all my Yahoo chat room "girl friends."

14 year old's never take rejection well, so I had to delete them all from my friends section. I never told any of them why. They're not mature enough to get it anyways.

I am pretty sure you can see Christina's bra in this pic. I gotta say, way to go, Mom!

This post is dedicated to all the "Moms" for letting your teenaged daughters go all "slutty" in front of you.

The Ultimate Betrayal

You'd like to be angry at me for "violating the ultimate sanctity." But I thought that was "our secret pact." I am not the one who is violating it. You weren't supposed to tell anyone. But now you've gone and done it.

I know you haven't talked to your stepbrother in 10 years. So I am not sure how you guys were able to square your stories so quickly.

Funny thing is your not very angry at me. "You feel sorry for me." And you're more mad at your Mom than me. I think that says something.

Your stepbrother says his hand was flushed down the toilet. That is quite unfortunate. You were both "thrown" in to a kitchen wall. That probably hurt.

I seem to recall something else. I remember secret meetings where you and your stepbrother planned to kill me. I remember fearing for my life.

You think you remember "things." Touching.

You don't remember the audio recordings do you? You don't remember the doctor reports. Where did all the blood go? Did you go poopie in your pants instead?

Who the fuck is Andee? Haven't you guys ever heard of false memories? You have video of a false memory. I have a tape recording of you denying it.

Who licks people in a car? You never said that. Just the interviewer. Do you remember that?

Stop blaming me for your failed lives. For your inability to be strong. For your failure to become successful. Maybe your just a miserable person.

I did my best.

This post is dedicated to finally getting "it" off my chest.

Misanthrope of the Month Award

And the award for Misanthrope of the Month goes to... Orange County Court Judge Nicholas DeRosa for "sentencing Michael Melfi, a skinny, baby-faced 19-year-old from Washingtonville, to the maximum for his role in a cat-killing rampage at the Blooming Grove Humane Society's animal shelter."

This wanna be PETA motherfucka placed the rights of rat chasers ahead of the rights of humans.

Clearly the boy is damaged goods. Yes, what he needs is some counseling. Maybe a good family life. But he certainly does not deserve jail time for doing nothing more than any of us do when we order up a bucket of wings from KFC.

Since when does an animal have a right to life?

My stepmother would be mortified by this post. Good thing she decided to not let me watch the dog and cat during her trip away from her trailer park. Sorry, I was reminded it is a Fifth Wheel.

Lots of gators in these here parts.

I suck

At least that's what I have been told by a ninja. And if a ninja says you suck. Then you probably do suck. Ninjas don't lie. They just sneak up on you when you are least suspecting it and slash your throat.

Sometimes they stay and watch as the blood they spill gushes out on to the ground. I think some Ninjas get off on that. Not all of 'em mind you, but enough do that it gives the whole lot of them a bad name.

I've been a bit depressed again lately. I just read some of my old posts and none of them were very funny. I felt like giving up on my novel.

And after reading this post by the adorable Tweeker Chick and seeing how great it was and how it was like nothing I'd ever wrote. Well you can bet all my insecurities, doubts, and feelings about my usefulness were pretty much confirmed by all the attention she was getting.

I suck. I am not the cute 24 year old who sleeps on the wet spot for you. I keep losing my hair and gaining weight because I can't face waking up every morning without pounding down at least a few 2 liters of coke a cola.

I know that Ask A Ninja is a religious studies student. If I commit suicide because of his meanness do you think he will too? Cuz, it would be totally worth it if he would die. Or do you think his "ninja" side would just rationalize my death as dignified in the Samurai tradition?

Cuz if I am dead there is no way in hell I want that damn ninja to go on living.

Hugs and Cuddles

Romius T.

This post is dedicated to George Clooney's fine work on the Facts of Life.

Morality would be unnecessary if we lived in non-linear time

I don't get all my ideas from television. Just more of them than you.

For instance I don't need to understand Einstein's Theory of Relativity because I have Day Break.

The Taye Diggs nighttime thriller over on America's Broadcasting Company invites us to speculate on theories of ethics and morality from within its surreal world of Groundhog Day "do it over again and again" living.

The premise of the show is simple. Taye wakes every morning knowing that some bad shit is gonna happen and every action he makes has "consequences." The drub that last bit in you like you are a 4 year old. For every action there is a equal and opposite one. We get it already. Every action has consequences.

Unlike Hume I don't find cause and effect a very interesting problem. What I do find interesting is the moral ambiguity that is invoked by temporality. A sudden awareness that Digg's policeman character is allowed a "do-over" enables his hot tempered character to engage in cold blooded murder.

Is that why god thinks it is OK to burn us all in hell? Or allow 200,000 children to die in a flood?

If at the end of the day there are no consequences for actions are any actions immoral? That is the argument Dostoevsky makes for keeping god alive.

If those arguments are true, then God is not really moral. He lives beyond morality. So when God imposes his law upon us it is a bit of a rhetorical device more than an actual moral imperative.

I think serial killers experience time correctly in non-linear or Einsteinian relative fashion. It would explain why there are usually so darn smug.

Jews in Space

Given the opportunity my Dad would write the "Most Controversial Book in the History of the World."

I don't think the "controlling interests" of the world would ever allow a book like this to be published.

According to Dad:

History begins some several billion years ago. That is when some UFO's thought it would be a good idea to go exploring. Ufo's help build the pyramids and have sex with apes. That's how we get black people.

Later more Ufo's or maybe the same guys come back to Earth. They mate with humans and we get the Jews. That's because Jews "have always been pretty smart."

Dad I am sure that not even a Scientologist could buy that shit.

Happy BirthDay to ME

On my birthday I always buy a package of Hostess cupcakes in case you forget about it. Then I take 2 candles out of the junk drawer and walk around for a few hours until I am all alone in the world.

Usually I am in a park next to a basketball court for some reason. Maybe I always live near basketball courts. I usually light the "cake" to the backdrop of "Born to Lose" by UFO on my walkman or diskman and now my Ipod.

Things you can do even though I am far away.

I don't think it would be a great deal of trouble for one you to start my very own Wikipeda article.

The soundtrack of your life today should include any UFO albums that you own or have been given by me. Worst case scenario go listen to the RomiusTexis Radio Station.

Best songs to get in my head:Dreaming of Summer- An aging UFO reunites. Dreaming of Summer nearly matches the original power of the classic UFO lineup.

I'm a loser- This cut/sample is a poor example of the studio album which is acoustic and electric guitar much like Zepplin. The live album is highly regarded. Rolling Stone called it one of the top 5 live albums of all time.

UFO moods are:

Party/Celebratory/Rowdy/Bravado/rebellious/

rollicking/dramatic/swaggering/

Theatrical/confident
I think you can see why I might like that.

Maybe you can just rent Metropolitan. It is my favorite movie. You could print out a picture of me and prop it up next to you. I enjoy chocolate candy and popcorn with my movies. I talk during the previews so much that you might think I will disturb the film. Only if it is really bad and the only way I can keep you in the theatre with me is to keep you laughing. And even then we will just share secret whisperings.

Don't forget the coke.

Cuddles.

Romius T.

Tomorrow is my birthday. Say Happy Birthday to me Bitch.

Which means you should have gotten me something by now. But you didn't did you? That's OK. I think our friendship is a little deeper than the course materialism that the white man spread on these shores 400 years ago.

You probably had no idea what to get me and what I really need more than anything, my dignity, isn't all that cheap. Even I wouldn't shell out that kind of cash for something so esoteric and functionally useless.

Don't feel bad if you didn't get me anything on my birthday you've just joined a long standing tradition in my family. It's become a running gag that "we" always forget my birthday.

Funny, I didn't forget it. And stopping by the supermarket on your way home from work with the latest Star Trek Novelization and few beef jerky sticks does not constitute a proper birthday for a 13 year old.

I think you all know that only real tradition I want to celebrate on my special day is ripping off corporate America for all the free shit I can.

Today I turn 36. I think that is old. Good thing all that weight I have gained since high school has given me a Rubinesque glow. I think it's because fat people have fewer wrinkles than skinny folks.

I have another admission for you. I am really 345 pounds. I hope that you really like me for whats in my inside. Because my outsides kinda smell like 2 day old fish.

Fat people sweat and I find it hard to reach all the boy parts now. It's not just the small penis, I think it's the added girth to my belly that keeps me from regularly cleaning my boy bits. Those boy parts are so full of cream cheese I now have to consider starting my own cheese cake making business.

All that because my Mom forgot to have me circumcised. Thanks, Mom. Nice birthday present. For all you ladies who like Mushrooms with your pizza you're just going to be out of luck.

I messed up and posted a poker story about bacterial infected dildos over at my other blog. I meant to post it here.

Sorry. My bad. But you can still visit the post here. That website is really not supposed to have the kind of dark humor for dark humor's sake like this one does.

What I have told you in the past was that RomiusTexis is the home of my "real life only fictionalized."

I didn't really think that one through. I should have been more precise. My real life at work fictionalized is what I meant. Of course the Romius T. character got a lot of fleshing out over there, so it is kinda confusing for you and me sometimes.

I won't bore you with the details about my copy/paste function not working so there was no way I was going to rewrite the entire post on here and then delete the post over at R/t.

That wasn't so bad was it?

Since you were OK with that story, can I give you a little nugget to use the next time you are outdoors pissed, bored and in the company of a few willing friends?

I'd like to introduce the concept of "inappropriate clapping" for your use and pleasure. The inappropriate clapping technique works at most KAROKE bars or with most shit house bands. But feel free to use it a your child's rehearsals and at family gatherings.

Proper use of the inappropriate clapping entails only the simultaneous clap in the middle of any really annoying performance. Any point where it would seem to make no sense you just interject a bit of random clapping. People will follow along with you sometimes. Be prepared for that.

But make sure you have at least two friends with you when you attempt this. You may have to kick the shit out of the "German" waitress who actually enjoyed the musical stylings of her guitar solo playing 56 year old ex hippy whose vocal range mearly extended to "do...do.. doing" most of the lyrics because he'd rather get high than remember words.

And just because today my brothers and I looked like the tourists you are always playing for suckers doesn't mean we're going to fall for the old "Sorry, I just learned English because I am from Germany" routine like the rest of your middle aged patrons.

I am just saying we all found it "strange" that a German national couldn't seem to recall the meaning of the term Gutten-Tag for us.

And if you do over hear us remark "that your cunt smelled worse than an 2 day old aborted fetus" let me suggest you just take the comment as it was intended.

As productive criticism, rather than as the "Bitchy snipings of nearly middle aged man suffering from young pussy withdrawal." As you so eloquently informed us in your delusional belief that a "Valley Girl accent" you affected could actually pass muster as proper Deutschland barking.

I shouldn't have to explain myself

If I had to it would it would fuck up the joke. Like if Michael Richards had to explain to people that he wasn't really just using the "N" word. That he is really just a character. He was just trying to shock you. That you are supposed to laugh at how inappropriate he's being.

Or like Andy Kaufman I just need you to laugh at the stuff that isn't funny. I am not certain that you really need to be let in on the joke. My job is to continually push forward the line of acceptable behavior until blowing yourself up in the middle of a romper room on Christmas Day is considered passe.

It's the only way we are going to win the War on Terror. So let me do my job. Peoples lives are at stake.

A Talking Monkey visits with the Satan Fellowship and the 4God Commitee

CHARACTER:

RomiusTexis

AKA:

Romius T., Rommie, Rom.

LOCATION:

Unknown

DESCRPTION:

Still has some hair. Some consider him "Pudgy cute."

Philosopher's goatee.

For a white boy has a pretty good running right hander on the basketball court. But has really come into his own as a mid-range shooter.

PETS:

A Talking Monkey. A Talking Vagina.

CURRENTLY STALKING:

K:FED, Lisa Loeb, Steve Nash's Wife, Jezebels Riot, Giada De Laurentiis

MEMBERSHIPS:

THE SATAN FELLOWSHIP (TSF)

FAVORITE BAND:

UFO

GIRLFRIEND ONLINE/PRETEND:

JezebelsRiot

GIRLFRIEND (REAL)

NONE

EDUCATION:

15 years of local community colleges. I think this is equvialent to like 3 bachelors degrees, but I am not sure.

To be cont'....

My New Job Opportunity

I can't believe that the book burners are going to get another victory.

O.J. Simpson was going to tell us how he did it after all these years. I mean if only for Marcia Clark's sanity we should allow him to be heard. You know she sits at home in the middle of some loop 3 tie knots crocheting and it hits her.

"How did he shower away all that blood?"

"Was my timeline right?"

Marcia..Marcia...Marcia... shouldn't have to rock herself to sleep every night just because Bill O'Reilly wants to save the world.

"Of course the timeline was right...it was just some dumb fucking stupid jury...that's all."

If Bill's gonna go around discouraging books by murderers for profit, I might be in for some trouble.

Frankly, I think this whole moral outrage at murderers trying to earn an honest living puts any future creative career of mine in jeopardy. I don't know if I can write any other kind of book.

But just when life looked its darkest, I discovered a possible opportunity with a new Internet start up magazine entitled "The World Can Lick My Hairy Scrotum."

The magazine has an impressive resume as its editor is nothing other than a world famous prescription wielding talking monkey!

Cuddles for me.

This post is dedicated to saving 12.3 minutes of time today through using Google's internet accelerator. And then using all that "saved up time" for staring down large predators.

I am going to write the book on serial killers you've always wanted to read

Of course writing a book on how people decide to become serial killers and making it funny is not as easy as it sounds.

But if anyone can do this you know your good buddy Romius can. Of course if I can't I can always decide to just go ahead and become a serial the killer. That would practically guarantee an upfront deal.

I figure I will get Cosmo Kramer to punch up any racist punch lines and Judith Regan will eagerly volanteer to publish it via a third party deal.

I am not too sure about how "deep" I will have to go in order to get into character, but you should know that I am willing to do whatever it takes.

Like today I started staring at the pit-bull who lives next to me in order to establish some kind of dominance. I stare at him until I can get him to stop barking.

I was in front of the shared gate for 3 hours today. Just staring at him. The dog went nuts for a while. He's always barking at anyone in his view. But I don't blink until the dog evades my stare.

The scary thing is this fence is only about 3 feet high and I have yet to figure out why the dog just doesn't jump over it and tear me to kibbles and bits.

I've also been thinking of way I could kill the monster without anyone figuring it out.

I've been looking at all the great ways they kill animals in China over at Katie's webpage. Those Chinese do not fuck around. They see a dog and it is like "soup for two" if you know what I mean.

I know what you're thinking, "That's just T. acting a fool." But I really hate dogs. I got bit as a kid. I was just 7 when a German Sheppard twice as big as me took a good chunk of my leg off. I needed something like 9 stitches to close up the gaping wounds.

I think I asked to see them put the animal to sleep. I remember what a let down watching it was. Fucking thing just chocking on its vomit. But no blood. I wanted to see a little blood at least. Dad promised me they had to cut off his head to check for rabies after it appeared I was a little disappointed in the execution.

Strange that the parents left it up to a seven year old kid to decide if they would "put" the dog down. It is the one decision in life I can say I would never question, never regret.

A Second Letter of Concern about Mrs. Steve Nash

Dear Mrs. Nash,

I used to lose quite a bit of sleep over reporting an incident that involved a rather skanky ho bag from Hooter's and your 2 time NBA MVP husband. In fact when it wasn't keeping me up, it was giving me nightmares.

That was until I did some googling myself. Turns out your hubbie has been linked numerous times in the press to an assortment of women.

Most notably of late the great Nelly Furtado. I don't think Steve is very gay, so I don't see why he'd like Nelly. After all Steve did invent his own dance and that is so not GAY.

For the record, Steve has said that he loves his wife and two kids. That he stands by them no matter how many "steve nash references" some rapper from the southside of philly puts in his music about "having game like 2 time MVP'er."

Kudos, Steve Nash. Kudos to you sir. You will not be swayed so easily to the homosexual lifestyle. I know you don't care that Arizona won't ban Gay-Sex Marriage or that the Republicans lost the majority of the House and Senate even after installing electronic voting devices in poll booths around the country. It doesn't mean anything to guys like us.

You and I both know that just because we may enjoy showing off our hairy "man bear" chests to crowds of admiring sweaty men, that in no way endangers our masculinity.

Mrs. Nash stand firm. Your husband is not going to leave you. In your native Paraguayan, "No esto going anywhere."

This post is dedicated to Tim Thomas for going 4 for 10 in two straight games.

Orange you glad you are not my friend in real life? Or how you should never add Larry King as your MySpace pal.

Here's the part where I pretend that I am not just visiting this site to take a look at all the playmate babes displayed so classily all through out your background.

No I am really here just to say "Hi." Sure there are all kinds of ways to say "Hi." But dropping down a few lines on someones myspace says I care. I really care.

Sow how you doing? How's that novel coming along? Got any funny characters yet?

Also if your site doesn't have any playmate characters all over it, maybe it has ponies. Do you like ponies? Because I don't.

I would also prefer you didn't go looking around my other myspace friends and look to find which ones I gave the exact same post to.
Because we are real friends and any amount of time I devote to any of my other friends doesn't mean a thing. You know that don't you.

So how is that House coming? Is it getting all fancy? Have you settled in. Did you remember to leave a door open so I could get in and hide in the basement? Did you remember to delete all those love e-mails you keep sending me so your "hubby" won't find 'em?

That's a good girl.

Did you really think I could forget you? Maybe you could post a few more photos on your myspace.

I miss seeing you how you really are. Flash frozen and digitized. You're so less "back talky" this way too!

I still consider us friends even though somehow you have misplaced me on your "BFF" list. It totally did not bring me back to some high school era of insecurity.

I know our friendship is long lasting, I am in your will. But other people are starting to wonder. Why don't we just ease their minds and put me back in your list.

Otherwise, I mean who knows what I am capable of. Nothing really bad, I won't go after your kids. I realize you need the child support money for your "medicine."

Momma needs her medicine.

We might be brothers. We might see each other every day. But I still feel the need to "connect with you."

Maybe it is because I don't like being homeless. That's what our other brother enjoys. But he's hobo sheik like that. Me I just prefer to get on your good side.

How's that novel coming anyways? Is it going anywhere? Any conflict resolution yet?

Sorry about making that crack about you being a hobo. I know you're not a hobo. I just said that cuz your brother would think it's funny.

You're not gonna stop introducing me to all those crack whores you know are you? I need to get laid. It's been a while now. But I think that you know that, don't you. Don't hold out on me buddy.

I could have just given the same post to you. I know we aren't MySpace friends yet, but I do come over to your house for a little "poker." And I am not just talking about card games am I?

Is it inappropriate for me to make jokes about your "milfish" wife? Then I guess the other things I do to her are even more inappropriate aren't they?

Go ahead add me.

The writer's flaw. A hot chick always has just one flaw. You know to keep her from being perfect, so none of the fat chicks get all insecure.

I was thinking about running off with her. She is really hot. Except for that problem with her eyebrows. They are out of control.

I might be a dude, but I think even I go near the tweezers a bit more often. It's like they are on some kind of mission to take over the middle of her face. If her face was the board game Risk the brows would be making a bee line to Southern Europe.

And I don't think I need to tell you to stay away from choosing Southern Europe when we play risk together. You know I am always Southern Europe. Fuck, my name is Romius Texis muthu fucka.

I also like to select North Africa. It's a bitch to keep the middle in that board game, but watch out if you do. All you fuckers who take Brazil have some kind of vendetta for North Africa it seems.

And some people like my ex-roomie "Fro" just seem to love to antagonize me by selecting the home of the Roman Empire away from an actual Italian. That just means a blood vendetta on your ass.

I know earlier I tried to make it sound like I never tweeze my brows, but I think we all know that I do. How else do you think they look so good? That ain't nature.

This post is dedicated to getting drunk by drinking your youngest brother's beer. Not's like he ain't been drinking your coke. Also to watching tv on the internet. Cuz that is cool. Also to peeing. Sometimes you need the relief.

I just want to live. To be free. And to occasionally find one of those 3 pack Zingers repackaged as a bonus 4 pack

I spent all last night on the funniest post you will never read.

Right near the end of slogging through it, my page disappeared. Like it got sucked down some vortex of "that shit is too funny" and got greedily devoured by our Google masters.

Fuck Google. And I know they are watching, listening and saving everything I do on the internets. So you know I just said Fuck You.

What ya gonna do about it? Nothing. Cuz you're bunch of faggots and pussies. That's why. You can't do anything to me because if you want access to my trade you must abide by my internal proxies and shit.

I'd tell you about the post, but that would be like sharing an inside joke with you and then not sharing all the inside info you need to get it.

Let's just say you had to be there. Let's pretend you were.

In the post I rant for a good 10 paragraphs about how I am so much better than all of you. Because real life people make "icky faces" at me all day long. For no good reason.

I can rant for 10 paragraphs because you all seem to enjoy picking on people in real life. Pickin' on folks is something I avoid. It's why I am better than you. That'swhy I pick on K-fed. Because he's not human.

All my 'real life' torture builds into a riff about how my well known inferiority complex isn't really true after all. Next I admit getting a bit depressed when I contemplated how Three Toed Sloth gets like 10x the hits and 17 more comments than I do. I've never gotten 17 comments on anything that I've ever written. Except for the Dr. Phil thing.

Sure, most of the 17 posts where asinine at best or just cutesy. But one came from a pretty hot chick. Well her back was pretty cute and that's all I saw.

But I got over my infatuation with Cheese lover's back pretty quickly after I read some of her myspace blog entries.

"we are all going to DIE if we get skinny."

Notice her use of capitalization. I opined that the blogger borrows her style from President for Life George W. Bush and his rhetorical use of "9-11 changed everything."

Only in reality you are not going to die if you get skinny. In real life only good things happen to you if you get skinny. The most important one is you will live longer. Getting skinny is the only scientifically proven way to expand the human lifespan. That's why all those starving Ethiopians live so long. So quit thinking skinny doesn't make you look better, because it does.

Cheese lover disagrees with me she thinks that, "We all look fine."

What... you've never been to a Walmart? We most certainly do not all look fine.

Allow me to translate your whining about body issues into something you might understand. Self pity coming from a man.

I am slacker. No amount of hard work or good luck will change that. I may never be able to support myself, but that's OK. Because I have to come to accept that about myself.

Why can't society? Why don't we abandon consumerism and gender roles and you can pay for my dinner and support my ass while I attempt half-assed blog entries and pretend to write that novel nobody will read.

I'll watch the kids, honey.

This post is dedicated to blogger for fucking up the actually funny post that should be here. Try and make some adsense money on this post assholes.

There is something disconcerting about munching sunflower seeds and watching porn at the same time.

It is kinda like the time I washed my ass with that rag under the bathroom sink that had all the Comet left on it. I accidentally used it and it burned my ass for a few days before finally I rinsed it off.

That was a big mistake. If you do scrub your ass with comet. Make sure to rinse that shit out right away. Don't let it fester, otherwise it stings like fuck. Your ass will end up with blisters on it. And explaining to your girl friend how you got infected blisters from scrubbing your ass with a comet soaked rag is difficult. I don't care how understanding she is.

Technical stuff I don't know a lot about

I have switched to something called an RSS feeder. I am not sure if it worked or not. It is from Feedburner and I think you have to download some free software in order to read me on your I-pod.

I know that some of you are aware that I have gone beta-blogger on you. What you may not know is that I had to change my stat counter because of that.

My old counter was BlogPatrol. It sucked eggs. The only cool thing about it was I trusted how many hits it recorded for me. I am not so sure about this one.

But STATcounter.com has some crazy ass functions. Like I get a map of where all my visitors are from. I can even click on to key word searches and discover exactly where you live.

So lets say you thought searching for "masturbating girls" was a great idea. Then you decided to click on to my blog. I know your general location. Freaky.

I promise you are all in good hands with me. I would never divulge info like that. But I wonder why no one else has. We've all heard about the Cragislist guy and some people pay for their stats. I am guessing you can find insanely detailed info out that way.

Fellow bloggers/readers how do you get your stats? Have you found out any crazy detailed info? Don't go giving personal info away, but some general stuff would be cool.

Oops I did it again,

Not only does Brit love a good dirty Sanchez she ends all of her life long commitments by e-mail.

Brit Brit filed for divorce by Text message. Go here to witness K-fed almost getting upset while looking at a text message on his phone.

World exclusive. That some chick spammed me with.

Evil teen "pop princess" divorces dancing "hero."

Brittney Spears filed for divorce. I am pretty sure this is disaster for my book idea. Who's gonna want to read about K-Fed now that he is not royalty by marriage?

No one, that's who.

I may have to get a job at Circle K. I just never considered myself brave enough to work there before. But if the "Fed" can handle all the shit that goes his way, I guess I can put my life in harms way so that you can get your Slurpie™ on.

The Hunting of K-Fed Vol.2

"Sometimes I wish that things hadn't gotten so screwed up between us."

I know you are probably holding all those things I said about you against me.

Like how I told you that Brittney was so way cuter before she ever laid eyes on you. That you aren't successful because of anything you ever did other than forget to use that condom you never think of buying.

Or how you are just a young preteen girl's trailer park trash wet dream. Or like how I imagined Brit's vulva needed to be "popped in a Florida trailer park restroom floor."

Maybe I shouldn't have said any of those things. I guess the "what if" question lingers throughout anything and everything that goes down.

But I still don't think that is any reason to avoid me.

Because you can't avoid destiny. I am going to ghost write that autobiography of yours. How do you think stories like this end? Nothing but fairy tales, man. You are going to rescue me.

Take a hard look at your music, man. Nobody understands you any better. They just gonna toss around words like wigger. I am not black, so I am not sure if I can even use the word wigger. But I did. Maybe one of my black friends will tell me to take it out of this post. And if they do, I will. But that doesn't stop you from being a wigger, or from the whole world thinking your a wigger.

We aren't myspace friends. It's cool. I'm really glad that everything is where it is between us, for now. If I could have it one way or the other, I'm still glad I have it this way. Because trials only make you stronger man, ask Saddam. You take as long as you need to get there man.

Just get there is all.

This post is dedicated to the art of stealing someone else's blog post and making it your own. Go see.