I follow John Larroquette on Twitter.

The gray carpet underneath my feet is scrunchy.  I would like to tell you that it is not wet with my cum, but I can't.  I guess that starts us out kinda creepy.  And that is regrettable.  I like to keep  my creepiness to myself and slowly let you in on it.  That way my creepiness is more like an inside joke that we share than some kind of mental illness on my part.

Like when I tell you I can't control my shivering around women anymore and that I am not too sure how long I can make it if I don't get some sex soon.

I'd offer to sit you some place other than next to me on the couch, but that would require moving all the used paper plates off of my chair, and I hate moving shit off my chair.  My chair is not for sitting. My chair is an extra dining room table.

Also you sitting close to me is about as close as I get to sex.  So I take your human heat and imagine it to be a warm blankey that you have given me to sleep with when I call out your name in the middle of the night, because of the sleep terrors I get.

I know this makes me seem like a kid to you, even though I am 40 and you are half my age, but I use little mind tricks like that.  Not on purpose.  Not really.  I mean no harm.  No harm is intended.  All you do is think of me younger than I really am when I use my mental tricks on you.

Don't judge me reader.  Nothing ever comes of it.

JL did not write this, I did.

I need to stop reading your personal ads

If I read how one more person likes to watch movies and enjoys listening to music I am going to puke on myself.  Then I am going to make you eat it off my stomach,  because that's how I roll.

I roll with a giant plastic tarp attached to my truck that I lie out before you, all the while forcing down your throat the puked out residue of my intestines, all because I get sick of reading the same banal shit about how you enjoy doing things that are awesome, but hate doing things that suck.

Other things that make me want to decapitate you?  When you talk about how you are interested in being challenged, and how you need a man with goals.  I don't have any goals.  I think goals are stupid.  What happens if you get all your goals before you are dead.  Do you just sit there for the rest of your life wishing you had sucked at the lower levels of life more?

Life is not a video game.

If I have to read one more personal ad about how you want to "grow" I will be forced to grind your decapitated head into hamburger meat and feed it to your now orphaned children.

Grow what?  The only thing I have noticed growing is your ass.  And now it has gotten way too big for either of us to know what to do about it.

The only thing I can think of for you is to for you to continue your junior college study of Oprah on the Lifetime network and for me to start dating your teenage daughter.  At least she puts out on the first date.

Signed.

An exasperated man.

Nothing much happened today.

Which I guess is okay if you are me.  I mean who am I to ask for things to happen to me just so I can write them down for you to enjoy.

Number 1.

You don't enjoy anything.  So why the hell should I go about the hard task of taking all the mundane shit that happens to me and try to make it seem interesting.

I won't.  And I don't.

But at least I am writing in this blog again.  I think we can just turn this blog more into a daily journal than a place to go for my creative writing since my creative writing is so shitty anyway.

Poop Watch

I took one today.  The house is full of mosquitoes.  I am sure that is a coincidence.

My computer is running slow again.  I am out of memory.  I need a new internal hard drive (or maybe external)/ I need some more RAM as well.

I know I mentioned that before but I think it is important to repeat oneself as much as one can get away with it.

Not that I did here as what I just wrote bored the shit out of me.

I am doing laundry.

That was more boring. But I am not going to worry about that.  I am just gonna keep typing because I am going to start writing every day here at this blog.

Like it or not.

I watched 24 today.  I made a giant pizza and ate the entire thing.

I told my brother I am not going to get an i-pod touch.  I have a classic and I am (one day) going to get an Android based phone so I don't really see the need for an i-pod touch or i-phone.

I hate the new i-pad. Who has money to buy something that is a niche filler and not a necessity?

Fan boys I guess.

I am going to file this post under worst written post ever.  I am sorry I wasted your time.  I just need to get in the habit of writing every day.

I need to get a PO Box so you can send me drugs through the mail. I hear that is totally safe.

After 3 weeks of coughing out phlegm I think that the bacteria have finally surrendered, or at least they have figured out a way to peacefully co-exist within my lungs.  Either way I am happy.  I am done coughing up and spitting mucus into a paper towel or giant noogies on the street.

I've alway found the practice of hocking up mucus to be disgusting- even when I am amazed by the strength and power some men demonstrate when they engage in the practice.

It seems to me that those men are not at all bothered by such a practice and it also seem that those men always have girl friends so it may be the case that I am doing it all wrong and they best way to attract women is to spit something up on the asphalt.

Let me know ladies.*

*your response can't be that yo find the habit disgusting.  you need to address the fact that all these men have gf's and I don't.  otherwise you two cents ain't worth one.

If you read my other blog (and you also read this blog) then you might want to get a real hobby like taking PCP.

Like I said if you read the other blog (who reads this one?) then you might have gotten the impression that I am calm motherfucker on PCP.

That's not exactly true.

I'm a fucking maniac.  I can't even describe what the fuck happened last time I was on it.  Let's just say I participated in a number of felonies.

Don't do PCP with your crazy crack head gf.  She will want to use the kid she pooped out as fodder for comic relief.  And two year olds are not very good at running even from people on PCP.

"Don't worry Bobby, I'm not on PCP anymore."

The kid will fucking believe you know matter how many times you lie to him.

Really, I mean two year old's are almost clinically retarded.

In a side note finding PCP and E is really difficult right now.  Damn near impossible.  If you can (and it's legal) send me some to my PO BOX.  You'd really be helping a mother fucker out.

p.s.s

I'm going to a rave this Saturday.  Hopefully I will grab a lot of crotch!  I hear chicks go to raves and don't take anything because all the E takers are all love and dovey and not aggressive jerks like most guys who drink. 

They have no idea that I get horny as shit on E and I get all crazy intense with my ASS GRABBIN' (registered trademark of the ASS GRABBIN Halloween Costume Company).

Pretty sure I'll get away with it, but we will see.

PSSS

Really bad insomnia for the last month.  Also headaches.  I wonder if my brain hurts from all the experimenting I'm doing.