Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Suicide Christmas Cards

There is always bad weather around Christmas time.  The wind won't stop blowing, the rain won't stop falling. Raining down on me like the bullets rained down that night at Columbine.

What a fucking night that must have been!

Dear Mom & Dad

This is just a little card to let you know that I care.

If you were wondering if Uncle Tommy's molesting had something to do with my decision to smash my head like one of those Halloween pumpkins that David Letterman tosses off  buildings in his crazy "throw stuff off tall building segments" then you were straight up correcto!

You should really think about getting on that TV show "So you think you are smarter than a 5th grader?"

Because for the first time in your lives...YOU WERE!~

Love,

Billy "your head look a little bit like a pumpkin that got pushed off a 10 story building."

p.s.
Dirty Hairy was right, " A Colt 45 does some magnificent damage."

Saturday, December 12, 2009

I should use this blog for something

My Dumps:

I took a massive stinky dump at midnight.  Shit stinks, but the smell from my dump worried me.  It was the smell of cancer or sickness.  I took another dump earlier today.  Though that dump was small.  Not even perfunctory.   Just like the eraser tip from a pencil.  More annoying than anything.  The big dump was gray.  Better than the black dumps I have had for the last week or more.

Media Consumption:

I watched the Daily Show.  Two episodes.  I listened to Twilight on the Env3.  Book 1 parts 4 and 5.   I watched the final 20 minutes of Law Abiding Citizen.  I watched Full Moon the movie.  Am I turning into a 16 year old girl?  How the fuck does Twilight part 2 end with a marriage proposal.  I was like "get the fuck out of here!"  I know Bella will say yes.  I am sure of it!

Hypochondria:

My back hurts.  My liver hurts.  My liver pain may only be back pain, but you never know.  The pain in the liver comes on the lower left hand side of my back.  I think I need a new bed.  The back pain is worse because of it.  I think my testicles have something growing in them. Whatever it is, it is getting bigger. 

SEX:

I did not masturbate today. 

Monday, July 20, 2009

I found the perfect amauter porn clip

There is something appealing about getting drunk in the middle of the day. I think the idea is that if you can get drunk in the middle of the day you might also be able to get laid in the middle of the day.

I have some homemade refried bean tostadas waiting for me in the kitchen. I should take a pass on eating them and walk down to the neighborhood bar. If I don't eat I could get drunk fast and afterward walk over to local porn shop. Like most porn shops you can rent movies there, but in addition to the take home videos the local porn shop I go to has private booths where you can watch porn. The owners don't care if you jack off in those booths.

Porn shop jack-off booths are nothing like coming home to your wife in the middle of the day for a blow job. A wife never stares uncomfortably at the tiny cock hanging out of your shorts like the queers at the front of the porn store do.

The queers hang around the front of the store hoping to spot the "first timers" who by mistake find themselves in one of the first 3 booths. The First Timer has no idea that his booth is connected to other booths by windows that have had the glass broken out by hopeful faeries.

I can't explain why "straights" would pick one of the booths with the connecting windows. I guess they just like all the male companionship of jacking off together. You know. Like in the sixth grade when you used to "build" forts out of blankets. Because of the heat from of all those blankets you would strip down to your underwear and your best friend would run his hard on all over your thigh, which you made okay by just pretending that all your friend wanted to do was build forts with you because he said he wanted to be in the military like his dad.



This amateur porn clip has it all. The star is an old, fat, hairy, white guy with a small cock. He "comes" in under a minute.

The other star of the clip is the fat disinterested wife.

This couple looks like most of the couples that shop at my grocery store.

The best thing about the clip? EVERYTHING!

The clip starts out showing an obviously drunk and obese middle aged woman. The TV is blaring at her. She sips a drink of her 22 ounce "Full Throttle" energy drink.

The chubby naked husband strolls over to the wife. His cock in full glory at a good 2 or 3 inches. The wife looks at the cock. She can't believe this tiny thing needs to be sucked off to cum.

For the time period from 28 seconds to 45 seconds you can tell she is just phoning in the BJ. But that all changes around 45 seconds. She sucks him good for a few seconds. All it takes is 4 to be exact. After all that attention the husband only needs to jack off for a few more seconds more to come on her face.

The really loving part of the "Lunch Time Blow Job" finale is how the wife runs her face through the husbands cum by shaking her head side to side.

It's the LOVE that makes Amateur Porn great!

Sunday, July 19, 2009

I am getting spammed

I am forcing people to type in those matching words for a few day until the spam bot gets the point. Hopefully we will be back to regular comment posting soon!

Monday, June 15, 2009

The New Podcast

Not that you noticed but the old Self Help Center Blogcast was deleted by my hosting site. Something about getting bought out by a paid site. Only the assholes at Podcast did not tell me anything about what was going on so I lost a years worth of shows because I don't have most of the podcast saved.

I know none of you like the podcast so none of you care but the podcast was downloaded over 2500 times so maybe a few people out there want to know where I am hosting the new version.

HERE.

Friday, May 22, 2009

A Purposeless Driven Life

What follows will be part 1 of many :


A Purposeless Driven Life.

A Purposeless Driven Life®

A Magnum Opus by Romius T.

Subtitled: A compendium of all the things I have learned.

There is no purpose to life. A fact you are well aware of.

Two days have passed since your birthday. No one acknowledged your birthday.

No one should have.

By not acknowledging your birthday your friends have given you not just you a gift, but the best gift they can give you. The gift is that of awareness. Awareness of the emptiness of life.

You feel alone. Good. You are alone. There is no god.[1] Even if there is a god, he does not care about you. No serious person could believe in a personal god. But many serious people claim to believe in a non-personal god. I think you call that belief Deism. [2]

In this essay I had hoped to get around talking about the existence of god, but since I brought it up and since so many of you will have some kind of belief in god I guess I might as well tackle the belief head on.

Deism

Deism is not an acceptable answer to the purposeless driven life. That’s because deism allows many of its practitioners to see purpose in the world. The more pernicious deists see agency in nothing more than random patterns. Usually deists see the agency “behind” the phenomenal world.

Many deists see “design” in the universe and believe that means there is a god. [3] But not all deists make such easy to refute claims. Einstein:

"[If you]try and penetrate with our limited means the secrets of nature and you will find that, behind all the discernible laws and connections, there remains something subtle, intangible and inexplicable. Veneration for this force beyond anything that we can comprehend is my religion. To that extent I am, in fact, religious." [My emphasis]

Einstein was a great man. He was also a very smart man. He was much smarter than me. But is what Einstein talking about god? "Yes, you can call it that.”

Actually. No. You can’t. That’s not god.

The awe that humans feel when confronted with the “inexplicable” is understandable and it is what drives every great scientist and philosopher to truth. The desire to make sense of the world is natural. Every child is born with it. Curiosity may not be limited to humans, but it certainly is one of our finer characteristics. But it is a giant leap to go from confusion to god.

Veneration.

The problem with the Veneration of Mystery.

I don’t worship anything I don’t understand. I don’t know why anyone would. That's why I am more of a Troy Aikman kinda guy and less of a Tony Romo kinda guy.[4] Even still. That seems like a personal choice of mine and not a logical argument.[5]

Let me break down the “logical” argument for you in to several parts.

First.

Deists act like Atheists.

Einstein said that he “venerated” the “force behind” the seeming logical consistency of the world. But did he? Did he go to church? Did he light candles? Did he worship? Did he pray? How did he devote himself to the force?

The answer is he did not. That is why Spinoza was excommunicated.[6] And rightfully so. Deists never get around to really doing anything religious. They love a good mystery. They make terrific writers of constitutions, but they really have no place for gods as most people understand them. Because Deists don’t act like religious people they often get confused for Atheists. [7]

Second.

The world may not be so darn comprehensible.[8] Einstein was not a fan of Quantum Mechanics. He once famously said that “god does not play dice with the universe.” He was wrong. God does play dice. Even if god does not play dice I just wanted you to know that I knew that quote by Einstein. Also, I knew that the second I started the sentence “Einstein once famously said…” you expected me to use that quote. So I did.

I guess my point is that if Einstein would have just paid more attention to Quantum Mechanics he might have been an Atheist and saved us all a lot of trouble. [9] But he didn’t. And that is another good reason to dislike religious thinkers. (But that is still not a good enough reason to not believe!)



[1] I know there is no need to instruct you on the silliness of a personal god. All I have to do is point out that Zeus is not real. Nobody prays to Zeus anymore. Speaking of praying. I have no idea why people pray, or light candles. Really! When the fuck did lighting a candle ever do anything? If you think that lighting a candle can do something other than increase your contribution to the alarming growth of green house gasses into the Earth’s atmosphere then you are fooling yourself. What you really believe in is magic. And that is sad. There is no such thing as magic. I know that saying that “there is no such thing as magic” seems like a big claim, and maybe it is. You might even want me to prove. Well I am not gonna. And I think you are an asshole for suggesting to me that I should. By the way, if you believe in magic you can’t claim to be a deist. If you are not a Deist then you are in the same category as the monotheists and the crazy right wing creationists. That category is the crazy folk.

[2] At least the dictionary says it is.

[3] Do I really need to suggest to you that you go and read Kant? If you don’t want to do the research for yourself then you HAVE to take my word for it. The ontological argument is an argument only an idiot could like.

[4] I still think Tony Romo is going to win me and the Dallas Cowboys at least 2 Super Bowls.

[5] If you like big words you might have used aesthetics.

[6] I suppose you don’t know who he is either. Einstein based some of his understanding of the god force on the pantheism of Spinoza, "I believe in Spinoza's God, who reveals himself in the lawful harmony of all that exists, but not in a God who concerns himself with the fate and the doings of mankind."

[7] There is a huge fight between Atheists and theists over Einstein. It seems everybody wants a piece of him.

[8] We could play a bunch of logic games here. If the world is ultimately incomprehensible (i.e. the thing in itself that is the force behind the apparent lawfulness of the universe) how could the world be comprehensible at all? We probably need to read more Kant.

[9] Interesting side note, Einstein’s religious thinking may have clouded his scientific mind to the point that he overlooked Quantum Mechanics and thus avoided reconciling the new science with his theory of relativity ultimately dooming his quest for a theory of everything. The ultimate theory of everything would prove god does not exist which would make this whole introduction parenthetical.







Sunday, March 08, 2009

Can someone please explain Capitalism to me?

I don't understand. We have to give trillions of dollars to keep a system afloat that benefits the few over the many. But the only way the system stays alive is if the many give....

We are faced with a real chance to change the world. We are living in a world historic moment. But all we will do is prop up the system again. Until the next crisis.

Trillions of dollars.

We should be focused on making energy free...
We should make every home an energy producer through solar power and recycling. But we won't.

We will just give till it hurts so the rich people who run the world can keep running the world because we are so certain there are no alternatives to the mixed economy we have now....

We deserve what we get....

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

I write a fan letter to Ricky Gervais, because he has a blog/plus I post pictures of Miley Cyrus' side boob



Dear Ricky Gervais,

I want to say congratulations to you for having a blog (just like me.) Which I guess means we are a lot more alike than I thought. Like you I am short, chubby, and funny. Unlike you I did not find a way still make lots of money and have a big career. I just have this blog. Which means that I spend my time sitting around my house in my undershirt crying and downloading pictures of Miley Cyrus to my computer.

I will post pictures of the side boob of Miley Cyrus on every post I make from now on, or at least as long as I can, and I can't really see any reason not to. (Other than Big Bad Billy Ray Cryus.)

Enjoy the side boobs you monkey perverts.

P.S.

Ricky,

Did you know that google has not gotten around to spelling your name correctly? I would think that google has a list of all the famous people famous enough that people who don't know how to spell would be able to spell the name if the were smart enough to use google spell check. Well you aren't that famous I guess yet, even though you created the office and extras.

I mean I wasn't a big fan of the "original" office. Maybe because it was too British. What the fuck do I know? I hate Monty Python which makes me dead to some people. All I know is I love Extras. I even liked that romantic comedy you made about seeing dead people. So if you are all pissy about me hating on the Office just use all that juice and call Gooogle and tell them how to spell your frakin' name all ready.

Until then I refuse to spell Gooogle's name correctly either.

Cheers,

Romius T.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

The one about the personal ad

So I wrote this devastatingly funny personal ad that I was going to post over at craigslist. Just to gauge things. I am always trying to gauge things. Figure them out. See where I am. I wouldn't need to do this, but my internet girlfriend doesn't take me serious. Why would she? I am not serious. There is nothing serious about me.

EXAMPLE:

I am driving the truck. I am driving an 18 year old girl home from work. We are talking. We talk about how I need to get the truck washed.

"A bird took a crap on my window." I tell her. Then I point to the bird crap. I point to the white stains on my driver's side window.

There is a slight pause in the conversation. Like some one is taking time to think. The 18 year old offers up a proposal. "I'll wash your car for 20 dollars."

I have no idea why this 18 year old thinks I want her to wash my car for 20 dollars. I can wash the car at the automatic car washer for 5 dollars. They even throw in a free vacuum. I just bought a new towel to dry the truck off after it gets washed.

The automatic car washer does a good job with everything except drying. It does not dry the truck completely. That's why I bought the car drying towel. Plus that and it was on clearance at work. I paid 2 dollars for it. The towel is is blue and sticky. It is made out of some kind of strange material from the future. The girl had to move the towel out of the way to sit in the passenger seat. That in and of itself should have been enough of a warning not to suggest such an outrageous fee for washing my car. Clearly I am the kind of guy who can do a bit of manual labor.

"Who would pay 20 bucks to have some kid wash the truck for them?"

"The only way I am going to pay 20 dollars for a car wash is if I get two girls in bikinis to wash the car."

Another pause. Another proposal.

"I could get candy to wash the car with kimmie."

Those are fake names. Those names are so fake that I am sure they have destroyed whatever ability you previously had to suspend disbelief in this story. I want you to know that I know that. That I know how terrible those fake names are. I want apologize for the fake names, for such bad and terrible fake names. I am sorry that I couldn't even think of anything remotely believable.

I tell the 18 year old that she should get the two girls from work that are pregnant to wash the truck. That would be hot. Preggo Car Washers. They should start a business.

"Oh no...my water just broke!" The 18 year old makes a joke.

"They could wash the car with that." I tell the 18 year old.

"You shouldn't say that." The 18 year old says. She objects to my joke. She thinks you should just keep that thought to yourself. "You can't say that out-loud." She chastises me. She knows it is natural to have the thought. She says that she thought the same thing, she just thinks you can't say that kind of thing out loud.

"Oh, no." I tell her. "You have to say that kind of thing out loud."

BACK TO THE STORY

Instead of posting the personal ad, I sent the e-mail to an online profile I picked at random. Again. Just to gauge things. Just to see if it was funny. If it was interesting. If it was good.

What am I doing? I feel guilty. I shouldn't have sent the e-mail.

I have no idea if I should feel guilty. Me and the internet girlfriend are not "going out." We are not in a relationship. I mean sure. I did buy her a diamond ring. A huge diamond ring. Maybe 100 carrots. And we will get married one day. Assuming she is foolish enough to say yes. Foolish enough to move to Arizona.

The message I sent was not really the personal ad that I was going to write. I ended up sending some (sorta) funny thing that was ignored by the recipient.

The original piece was really more like a blog post. I had it all planned out, but I had to go to work. So I lost it. It was good too. One of the best things I have ever written. As funny as anything on Craigslist that gets posted over at Fark.com. It was so damn good it might have gotten me laid.

I do remember at one point near the end I go into some tangential point about how I am sick of the "weariness" of women on craigslist.

All the women on Craigslist are weary. They are tired. They are looking for something that they can never get. A good man.

I remember thinking that I should write a "weary" post too. I am so tired of hearing how weary you are that I would prefer to have a man with the Ebola virus vomit all over me. In the post I was to write I make a descriptive comment about his yellow teeth. I have fucked up the remembrance of this thought.

It was shocking and came out of nowhere. Just this vile description of the Ebola virus. How the weariness of craigslist women bothers me like the infection from an ingrown toe nail. Yellow and full of puss. Trickles of blood.

The man's face is melting. He is puking in my lap. I see his yellow teeth. I see the steaming hot puke pile on my lap. It collects in my trousers. It soaks through to my skin. I feel wet. I am bathed in the virus. I am drenched in puke.

The lesson here for women on Craigslist is that they need not be weary.

The other lesson is that puke is not much of a turn on.

The final lesson is that some people may insist that your efforts to find new readers by posting blogs faking as personal ads seem to them like a breach of trust. Even if it is not.

Monday, January 26, 2009

I am a man of action, full of plans

I still write for this blog. Even though I have no idea why. This blog gets 5 hits a day when I am not posting on it. The Karl Marx Blog gets 50 hits a day and I haven't written on it for months.

All that is going to change soon. So is the focus of this blog and TKMB. I am going to post random stuff on this blog. I am going to post links and stories, and I am going to write some kind of memoiry blog novella here--in between all the other crap.

The Karl Marx blog is going to get a face lift. I am going to get more superficial and less stuffy on it.

I hope you enjoy the changes and I hope it makes you decide to come back to this blog and read it again.

If not then nothing has really changed anyway.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

I get hit on from the Philippines

I know you may find it difficult to believe but I just got a message from a girl who lives in the Philippines. Actually the message wasn't really from the girl who lives in the Philippines, but from her Aunt who lives in Mesa, Arizona and there really wasn't a message, I just noticed that a I got a profile view from someone on one of the many online dating services I signed up for.

Since I never pay for any of the services all I have access to is the free stuff these pay sites offer which is just enough to entice you to pay for something that in fact will be a rip off because no one really hooks up online.

The online profile written by the aunt says the girl is 20 and is looking for an online and long distance relationship with a man. The girl's aunt requests that the man must be at least 28 years of age. I guess that is because Asian women like older white guys. And because trips overseas cost real money and in no way are payable from your winnings at World of Warcraft.

The girl is pretty hot. She plays guitar. I think I my have to see if I can bring her over to the United States. Any donations to this site that can get me to the Philippines, or my new Asian girlfriend over to America will be appreciated!

Monday, January 05, 2009

BOB LARSON IS A NUT JOB



Here are a few articles uncovering the scam that is Bob Larson. I am headed over to his church on Tuesday. I assume it will HELLA fun. Who knows? I hope I don't have to pay to get in. I hope Bob will be giving a sermon or something, maybe even a few EXORSICMS. Though I think you have to pay to get that shit. Nothing is free. Not even God's love.

Thursday, January 01, 2009

A list of things you should not have to worry about, but that sometimes I do anyway

The thing about having big man tits and a small cock is that you have to worry constantly about being considered a SHE-male. (The link is NSFW) For instance most SHE-males are really just dudes with big tits and small cocks, so you can see how their can be confusion.

I don't date a lot of SHE-males, but I do date regular girls every once and while. And most of those girls are the kinda girls who seem to date guys who are into SHE-males and those girls always seem to call me up and share with me their new boyfriends "fixation" with SHE-Males.

I don't have any good advice for these girls and I get the feeling they are just trying to get information from me about my habits when it comes to SHE-males and if I like them or think they are sexy or look just like real girls.

The truth is that most of the women I date are lesbians, because lesbians are ugly and as we all know the ugly are super horny and super horny (fat) lesbian chicks are the only chicks with enough balls to ask a dude out and spread it right away.

I have no idea if the Lesbians I date are turning the men they meet gay or just by the fact that if you date enough BETA-males like me you are bound to find one that takes his BETANESS too far and into the territory of getting all hot and spicy for SHE-males.

I assume the latter, but really, what the fuck do I know? The only thing I know for sure is that the majority of men who get turned on by SHEmales imagining their cocks in those big breasts, the golden flecks of bleached hair and imagine fucking man pussy are the kinda guys who want the nastiest of stereo typed beauty. The big fake tits. The bleach blond hair. The flat ass. The Cosmo girl.

Only these guys know they have no chance in the real world f0r a chick that fits their dreams. They are too disgusting to pull real pussy. They know instead if they are ever to get any thing like the hot chicks on TV that the girl has to come attached with a dick. The fantasy of fucking a She male is really the fantasy of a man who knows he can't get real pussy and the only pussy he will ever get is man-pussy.

The really sad thing is that these SHEmale bitches are super diva and really think that they are women and so unless you send away for a mail order (male-order haha, fuck you Maddox) she male they will never get the quality of she male that might be able to pass at a quick glance as a woman. Instead they will have to take a man dressed as a woman to the high school reunion and not a damn person will be impressed because people don't want to give a shit about your openness and inclusiveness when your openness and inclusiveness means your just fucking some dude in a dress.

I hate to be the guy that tells you that, but if you are talking to my exgf she ain't telling you much different.