Banter? I just met her...
They fight for fightings sake
Buttons pushed and pulled
Time an angry nemesis
Who timely takes the cake.
Petty things make them shout
No clue what it's about
Objects whiz his head
Do you wanna go make out?
As of tomorrow I will be the only employed person living in my abode. Sucks being me, eh?
Well, it would suck being you worse.
Now go sweep the driveway and get me three Krystals...with cheese...and fries.
Are there really cows made of cash?
I know what I want to think, but I don't know.
It's not up to me.
It's up to you.
You tell me. What do you want me to say?
If thats what you want.
But what about me?
Is it always about you?
It's not about that.
Look, Dr. Teeth did not have a Phd.
If you fill your brain with useless information, at what point does that useless information become useful?
Six Feet Under is a great show. We got the whole season on VHS and we have to transfer it for HBO. I am totally hooked. Thank God for HBO and their willingness to show boobies.
...Enough about me.
How was your weekend?
Hurt head, need bed,
pencil lead, right said Fred
Ted fled, no cred, blood Red sled.
That's what she said.
I met a blind man named Jim today.
He plays piano.
He loved the idea of HAMoTAM.
Sometimes people without sight help us see better.
No Bloggy Bloggy
Today is HAMoTAM workday.
Soon my people.
You will feel the wrath.
I was sitting out under the stars the other night and it let me know how miniscule and insignificant humanity really is. It made me think about how I can make my mark so I too someday can be a bright, burning star.
Oysters are slimy, so I don't eat them.
But I do eat hamburgers, but only with cheese...and fries.
When I ride the train in the morning I never get a ticket. It is always too crowded to get to the front and pay and they never check for proof of payment...ever. Except today. At Montgomery station I noticed a bunch of people getting stopped by the intimidating Muni police, and tickets being written. So I immediately began to sweat. Especially when a group of them boarded the train. "Everyone please have your receipt or transfer out so I can see them." I am praying to whoever to get to the Embarcadero so the doors will open and I can bolt before he gets to me. I lose. "Can I see your transfer please?" Defeated, yet confident, I say "I don't have one." "Where did you get on?" "One stop before Carl and Cole." "I need your California license." "Yes sir." At this point I am thinking, you can't tell me that I am the only one on this car that has not paid the fare. Out of ALL these cramped in biatches I am the only one who has not paid. Bullshit. "Can you come with me sir." Busted by the Muni police, everyone stares and giggles, and points. "Sir, I could write you a ticket for $175 but I am going to let you off with a, (conveniently leans in so I can smell his two hour old egg mcmuffin breath) verbal warning. You must buy a ticket." "It won't happen again sir."
He walked up to our table and pissed in my nachos. I could not believe it. Nor could anyone around us. I mean, what do you do? We are sitting around getting smashed on pitchers of Margaritas and he just walks in, whips it out, and starts to pee...on my nachos. The busboy acted as if he had been through this drill before. In the blink of an eye, he dropped his dishtub, grabbed the habanero salsa, lept over tables, and covered the pissers exposed region with what must have been a gallon of hot salsa. The culprit let out a burning, gutteral yelp and gimpily limped out of said restaurant, pants at his knees, covered in hot, molten salsa, a defeated man. I kind of felt for the guy but then again he ruined my nachos, and Helen's dress. The restaurant bought us dinner, and Helen a new dress.
We laughed nervously and vomited all the way home.
You come too soon.
I like Saturday.
2 friends back
One friend gone,
I live in a flat
don't have to mow the lawn.
Thank you to Ezra for hooking up my electronet at home. Hours on hold with Earthlink is not fun. Thanks EZ and have a safe trip.
I was walking down Haight St. last night wearing my cool, retro Kiss "Rock and Roll Over" t-shirt and this haggard woman sitting on the sidewalk says,
"Did you get that shirt at Wasteland?"
"Uhhh. Yeah, I think I did, one of those re-sale places. Was it yours?"
"I got a bunch of Kiss stuff."
"Well, you got good taste."
As I walked off back to my house for a beer and a smoke.
I had a nightmare about the cackling lady last night.
She was in tune. It freaked me the hell out.
How about this poem by Edgar A. Guest
Somebody said that it couldn't be done
But he with a chuckle replied
That "maybe it couldn't," but he would be one
Who wouldn't say so till he tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn't be done, and he did it!
Somebody scoffed: "Oh, you'll never do that;
At least no one ever has done it;"
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat
And the first thing we knew he'd begun it.
With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn't be done, and he did it.
There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure,
There are thousands to point out to you one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you.
But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,
Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing
That "cannot be done," and you'll do it.
Would you rather wear an ascot or be an Asscottsman, you know, an asshole from Scotland?
Why is Evander Holyfield fighting again?
Why is Mike Tyson considered to be a "human being?"
Why are my pants so tight?
Why do men wear grippers?
Why do people enjoy Bob Saggett?
Why isn't Jim J. Bullock the middle square?
Why did Wink Martindale quit The Jokers Wild?
My Grandpa had my pop memorize this Kipling poem when he was a kid. I still do not know if I like it or not. I think I like it. What about you?
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master;
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man my son!
I'm back and refreshed and my parents are proud of me. And...I don't get 2 minute updates of Ezra's pummeling on the Blind Date bullshit. It's good to be...