Landfill

2004-06-23T23:15:00.000-04:00

I suppose I should officially say...SO LONG. This is my last post. And I'm drunk. Which is fitting. I'm also down in Georgia. Which isn't so fitting, because it's hot as fuck and I should've known that. I'm not living down here again, just visiting for a few special occasions. I would like to thank everyone whose visited my website over the year & some change, leaving comments, lyin by tellin me I'm cool, lettin me bother the fuck out of you on AIM, which I will probably continue to do (regulated by alcohol & desire for human electronicship). I wish I had something more to say, but I don't want to get too dramatic. Cause, tears, yeah, they are abound.

Anyway.

Everyone take care, be cool. Good things, kids, good things.

2004-05-23T03:32:00.000-04:00

Well, what intoxicates HD. There is Jim Beam, but this gal does more.

2004-05-23T02:44:00.000-04:00

Yeah, so, update.

2 A's, 2 B's.
This writing major, I will whoop it.
No gal yet.
Women rejoice.
I'm a best man.
Prayin Groom don't die in Iraq.
Can throw one helluva party (no update needed there).
Need to get another fish.
Still lovin chocolate milk, whole, not 2%.
Believe it or not, vitamins are cool.
HD is kinda loaded.

2004-01-29T02:00:00.000-05:00

So:

Is Tom Berenger a poor man's Treat Williams, or is it the other way around.

Regardless...I'm actually enjoying school. And I think the prophecies say that if such an event were to happen that someone should build an Ark. The boat not the box.

Good luck.

2004-01-20T17:02:00.000-05:00

Which is worse?

On Saturday my father and I actually watched some of the Nick and Jessica marathon or that last night he had 20 minute, in-depth conversation with my sister about said show.

2004-01-15T01:21:00.000-05:00

Okay, since I'm startin back to school. Can I pull off not too old, good lookin enough? Cause I'm nervous as fuck.

Forgive the bathroom

Me right now & again now.

2004-01-15T00:02:00.000-05:00

I have nothing funny to report. Things have been fucked up. My family seems to have lost its collective mind. I would love to go into a hilarious commentary, but I don't have the time and neither do you.

And thanks to this Agatha lady who responded a bajillion times cause I'm sure my commenting was fucked up, and....

1,2,3 I woke up early this morning and I went to the five and dime, I saw this pretty young lady that was real, real fine, I tapped on the shoulder and said, "Ahem, excuse me, ma'am.."...uh, I'll stop there.

2004-01-09T15:19:00.000-05:00

What to blog. Okay, Holidays.

Was fine. Time with my friends was the best. And Atlanta no longer exists cause I fucking drank it. I looked the 10 car pile up most of the time. Then I started drinking again and became sophisticated.

Nearly strangled my grandmother a hundred times over. That woman needs to go away.

Got some cool presents. Very cool presents, actually. Such as the always wicked slick mix discs from Boz. And also very happy folks dug their discs from me.

Deduced some info about someone when they could've had the courtesy to tell me, tho they didn't really have to, but it would have been pretty nice to know without having to PI the info. Common courtesy and all.

Got shot in the neck by a bottle rocket.

Got hypnotized by this girl's beauty fine ass.

Farted on a friend's face while he was passed out drunk.

But the best part was at a bar. Me and some cronies were trying to get these girls to go to another bar with us, they wouldn't cause we were sloppy drunk and stinky, so my buddy booed them like an angry fan. Right in her face, a big loud, "Boooooo!" I was awed.

That's all that I can think of right now.

Well, it's Friday. Who's got big plans? Not me, cause I have NO ONE.

Have a great weekend.

2003-12-23T16:39:00.000-05:00

Note: For those of you receiving mix discs, please do not look for any hidden meaning in the order or general idea of included songs. That would surely make me seem the psycho. Thanks, Mgmt.

In other news, pick up Permission To Land by The Darkness. It'll rock your hair band, glam metal ass off. I never thought I'd pick up a CD from a band that I heard on MTV since 120 Minutes went off the air. I'm such a tool.

2003-12-18T16:38:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow I leave for GA...yet again. I'm wondering how long it will be before I post again.

I've broken two CD players making these mix discs. I'm using my DVD player at the moment. I knew my 5-disc carousel was wack, it finally shit out on me after 8 years, poor little feller, he had a good run. Then somehow or another I fucked up my father's CD changer. I still haven't figured that one out yet. Sounds like some mechanism or another in there is jammed. So it took me like six hours to make one mix, well five, I suppose, I took time out to eat and shit and what-not. Hence tonight, I will be one mix discin fool.

I have all the addresses of you nice folks and they will be sent scant seconds before I mope down to GA.

Hope everyone has a relatively enjoyable holiday groupings.

Later.

2003-12-12T16:30:00.000-05:00

Looks like I have three parties, ahem, ladies interested in gettin a Landfill Mix CD, requestfully entitled Short Crip Bus Mix 2003. All I need you to do is email me your mailing address and I will send it on soon as I finish it. I hope they're up to par.

I'm having one of those days where I love my car. It's as if it was having a good day and wanted to accelerate appropriately, which is to say, hurriedly. I could take on any broken bridge in Hazard County. Bring em on.

2003-12-10T17:31:00.000-05:00

I saw something today that made me realize that if I went blind this instant, the reign of terror my seeing career has caused would come to a blissful, pertinant, honorable, acceptable end. A short yellow crip bus parked in front of a liquor store and the driver coming out carrying two quarts of Mr. Boston.

Such sweetness.

Also, I'm feelin a little Xmasy what with all this silly shopping I've been doin. So. Who wants a mixed CD?

2003-11-27T00:44:00.000-05:00

A blog solely devoted to ATL, cause she gave somethin new to say over in my description things.

I'm stealin it, cause you're my best friend. That's what we do for each other.

2003-11-27T00:07:00.000-05:00

audio post powered by audblog

2003-11-26T20:21:00.000-05:00

Still haven't come to a definite decision on where I should eat tomorrow. It's leanin to Waffle House more and more though. Them goddamn hash browns is callin me.

I hope all of you that celebrate this holiday have a nice one. I think I'm just sit around and get Whiskey Bent and Hellbound, cause you I still like to get drunk and hear country sounds.

2003-11-24T03:30:00.000-05:00

Is it just me?

I think the Weather Channel has a way to make money that they haven't even realized. I mean, they should hire some guy, some black guy preferably to write lyrics to those slow-ass, sexy moods they play while displaying your "Current Forecast" or your "Projected Forecast". They could rake in a fortune with some filthy, fine lyrics.

2003-11-24T00:27:00.000-05:00

This may be a little early, but I need help.

I'm going to be alone this Thanksgiving. I have narrowed it down to two choices in regards to where I should have my Dinner. Denny's (which is within a few miles) or Waffle House (which is in Lancaster, about 30 miles, give or take). Other options are available if they hit that one good spot just right, but for now the aforementioned are in my perfect Thanksgiving dreams.

Advice is direly needed.

2003-11-22T01:21:00.000-05:00

Sweet Jebus....I've been gone awhile.

Here's the deal. I've been tryin to get back into shcool. Polish off that BA in English. As well as workin the shit out of Knights of The Old Republic on the X-Box (if I had a social life, the game would have ruined it) as well as a few other role-players, not afraid to admit it....I'm a collassal dork. I mean, I can't wait for Final Fantasy X-2 to go on Pre-Owned Cheap at EB.

Many apologies for I have not been keepin up with blogs. But I just noticed that I got Bozzie somewhere down there, many thanks for being recognized and remembered by Boz.

I'll be back soon. Seriously this time.

2003-10-28T22:08:00.000-05:00

Yep, here I am. Made it back to PA. And tomorrow I'm off to Cleveland.

I have some pics and stories from GA, but here's the one that sticks out the most in my head.

Somewhere near the Tennessee line, I had to shit real bad. I pulled off at an exit containing a gas station/McDonalds. I mean, I had to shit BAD. As I walked through the door, I farted. The warmth of my fart gas traveled down my pants, heating my legs. I swear to God, I thought I had just shit all down my fuckin legs. I then ran to the bathroom in a warm, sweaty panic, snagged a stall & fully expected to find poo runnin into my socks. Alas, it was just a fart.

Thank God.

2003-10-01T17:12:00.000-04:00

Georgia own muh mine.

On the morn, I will be leaving for GA. I hate packing.

I should be back in about 2 1/2 weeks. I'll try & look in on everyone if I can.

Y'all be good. Or at least stay out of prison.

2003-09-29T16:14:00.000-04:00

I went to get a haircut earlier today and I saw a woman that looked entirely too much like Liza Minelli. I ran like hell.

2003-09-26T16:46:00.000-04:00

Today has been pretty fuckin great. I actually got out of bed, bathed & clothed myself before noon. So I went downtown York hoping to find some fun. I found it. I took some okay pics, but the lighting was fairly poor, so there're a few that didn't come out, which means I won't mention them except as I took them. Here's how things went for the most part.

I parked downtown and commenced to walkin. There's plenty of beauty downtown, but I think this is one of my favorite little views. Better is there, but this one came out right. I then decided that I would have no part whatsoever of this. I then went by some very old buildings. The one on the right is a home used by General Horatio Gates, who was the President of the Board of War during the Revolutionary War. I took a pic of the historical sign, but it didn't come out so well, as I mentioned before. But the one of the adjoining building came out so-so, so I hope y can read it. Here's the building. Don't you love the traffic lights in the frame. It feels authentic. Oh yeah, and here's the news station I never watch. Is it me, or is that a ghostly octagon there?

Ultimately, I ended up here. If you haven't guessed to some affect already. I drank five $2.50 Jack-n-Cokes for two hours listening to the local color. It was grand.

I even fucked around and shot a triple double. I'd have to say it was a good day.

2003-09-26T12:28:00.000-04:00

Great. Now Robert Palmer is dead. Will the carnage ever cease?

2003-09-26T01:50:00.000-04:00

Superstar has pointed my life in a grand new direction. The night may get a little darker, but the rock will get all the harder. This is why she's my best friend.

workerbee818: HAHAHAAH you should start speaking in terms of corey hart
workerbee818: all the time
hotdamndoyle: ok
hotdamndoyle: like say, if y wanted to talk to some guy in ray-bans, i could say, "Hey, don't make a play on the guy in shades. Oh no."
workerbee818: HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
workerbee818: exactly. eggs-actly
hotdamndoyle: and then, if something bad happens, i can say, "Never surrender, never surrender heart."
workerbee818: yep. and you can do that thing where you clinch your fists and pull your elbows in like you really really mean it
hotdamndoyle: but i refuse to wear a white t-shirt w/ the sleeves rolled
hotdamndoyle: but mostly, i'll just be fuckin serious about everything
workerbee818: for real
workerbee818: and pouty
hotdamndoyle: & a little sweaty
hotdamndoyle: tho it's an intense sweat
hotdamndoyle: w/ all the power of new wave behind it
workerbee818: HAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA
workerbee818: and that's a lot of power
hotdamndoyle: y know it
hotdamndoyle: cause when y mess w/ the bull, y get the horns

2003-09-26T00:09:00.000-04:00

You know, I had a post with some grand wisdom I discovered; it had this beautiful circular motion where everything would be wrapped up nicely by the time I finished, conveying multiple levels of insight and a maturity belying my personal ambitions.

But then I cut on the television cause someone told me I had to see this certain commercial that I didn't even enjoy and I refuse to relate to the internet. That's what I get for lackin piorities.

2003-09-24T00:04:00.000-04:00

This evening has been below.

The featured album is Get Happy. It was followed by (all vinyl), in no particular order, Some Girls, Tim, Pleased To Meet Me, Bee Thousand, Ziggy Stardust, Maladroit, Violent Femmes, I think there were a few more like Love and Rockets but I eventually switched on the New Wave station.

Oh yeah, and this has also happend. Though, there's one bottle of wine that missing and I don't know where it went except that I know it's empty and not underneath a car.

2003-09-23T22:27:00.000-04:00

All the good stuff has run out. And now I wish I had picked up that bottle of Thunderbird when I had the chance, a fresh, depraved '93. Hoping there's salvation at the bottom and hangovers are only for the wicked. I'm reminded this evening of the time my long time brother shot himself in the arm to prove a point. And that point was, "Don't be a pussy". Albeit he cried and cried and cried as the blood ran like the mighty Mississippi. Yet, as I ponder that evening, I realize the position I've put myself in over these past few years. But I won't go into that, for I have gone into that far too often and no one wants to hear my sob inabilities to get my shit done. So, instead, I will comment upon my excitement at my future excursion back down into GA. I can't wait to see my friends. I can't wait to party. I can't wait to spend two whole weeks drinking nothing but bourbon. And during this excursion I will look back upon what I left behind, or possbily what left me behind. I will reflect, I will enjoy, I will be the complete definition of decauchury. But above all, "Don't be a pussy".

2003-09-19T01:37:00.000-04:00

Hmmm...and I kind of favor the guy...even though I'm 6'2" and nowhere near Jewish...

Masturbation Personality: Woody Allen

What's Your Masturbation Personality?
brought to you by Masturbation Techniques

2003-09-18T23:14:00.000-04:00

Now that I've got this digital camera up and runnin, I can't find anything good to photograph. Maybe I'll go downtown tomorrow, do shots in a bar, and takes pictures of places bums should be hanging out but aren't, because I'm not too sure, but I'm thinkin York has no bums. Or maybe just shoot a Hotdamn Doyle Menagerie of His Own Fine Ass Self.

It'll come in handy come October. Looks like I'm gonna be spendin two weeks back in Snotlanta for a bachelor party, two weeks of bourbon and a wedding. I miss my friends much. On a brigther note, I'm slowly startin to get a little leaner due to all these goddamn painful fuckin crunches and cock push-ups, so I will look svelt that tux.

2003-09-16T19:52:00.000-04:00

I went and viewed Freddy vs. Jason today. I am all over the DVD when it comes out. I'm such a sucker for those guys. That movie is the best decision I've made in four...no wait...yeah, six days. Just to let you know, the decision of six days ago was fries with that.

2003-09-16T14:41:00.000-04:00

I feel like shit. And I don't know why. But my stomach is perpetually sour of late.

Besides that shit:

I bought milk yesterday. And while examing the expiration dates for the gallon that will last until the Second Coming and feeling pretty uncomfortable about "Everything I Do, I Do It For You" playing over the store stereo, I decided someone should start a Christian rock band called Sonic Christ and their hit should be "Jesus Up On A Marshall Stack".

I finally got the battery for the digital camera. Lame fun will ensue.

Last night during some movie edited for television, instead of allowing "fucking" to be used, they inserted "vigorous", thus the line uttered by the angry woman was, "Here's your vigorous dinner!".

It thought that Sharon Osbourne having her own talk show was just a joke. It's true. I hate that family. They're ruining everything and everybody.

Today, at the grocery store, yet again, the lady checking me out gave the option to buy Quilted Northern over my precious, precious Charmin. I declined on the grounds that I don't particularly care for Quilted Northern, despite the fact that it was currently on sale. So the lady decides to let me in on a dreadful family secret about how her toilet always clogs up when they use Charmin, so they switched to Quilted Northern, cause it doesn't back up the bowl, no matter how big the flush, if I know what she means. She then went on to how her septic tank has been overflowing up through the bowl and into the house and her daughter apparently washes windows with caeser salad dressing because that's what the lady was holding when she said, "My daughter says the stuff doesn't streak at all." And I never heard her mention any cleaning product during the interim period in which I was unknowingly making panicked faces.

Pennsylvania's fuckin weird, man. And it makes me that way.

2003-09-14T01:08:00.000-04:00

I don't know if my brother found me, or I found my brother, or if Boz directed me there (which is the truth, but I need a non-sappy post) or if Fate aka Deplorable Bitch drove me to the discovery. Anyway, it's nice to have someone immersed in the Cause. So, Cow Boris, The Yetidrone. It's time to beat on the brats.

2003-09-14T00:51:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I want to talk to her. And I want to be as heartfelt as Waits. As profound and skewed as Thomas or Kerouac. As harmonic as Chilton and Bell. As honestly male as Amis, Martin. With as much faith as Hopkins. And as adoring as Yeats. But mostly I just want to forget her. Yet, I suppose, my muse doesn't lie there. I can only hope.

2003-09-13T23:08:00.000-04:00

ATL is gettin to see Lucinda Williams tonight. I'm terrible fuckin jealous. The only thing that's come through here lately is Dave Matthews in Hershey. I put him in italics cause it's supposed to denote extreme revulsion. I mean, the guy cause enough of a stir to warrant mention on the Friday traffic update. What is wrong with people?

2003-09-13T20:59:00.000-04:00

Well, the nicest thing just happened. One MsComrade AIMed me asking, asking permission to link my blog, apparently I'm amazing fuckin funny. But I refuse to say how she found me.

2003-09-13T20:30:00.000-04:00

Last night, I had a dream I was playing in a celebrity golf tournament. I was on a team with Samuel L. Jackson and Shaq. They're a hilarious couple of guys. And were super cool to a skinny slice of Southern white bread.

2003-09-13T20:29:00.000-04:00

You know, if I wasn't an asshole already, I'd think I was turning into one. Sorry to everyone in advance or overdue.

2003-09-12T16:39:00.000-04:00

I am beyond sad about Johnny Cash dying. This rainy day fits.

And I suppose I feel pretty bad about John Ritter dying, too.

2003-09-11T22:17:00.000-04:00

Dear My Friend Diana,

Earlier today on I-695, I saw an Alero exactly like yours, sans the Frito bags, twisted around the bumper of one of those maniacal abominations, i.e. Ford Excursion. And I thought about you quite a bit on the ride back home.

Have a great weekend,

Hotdamn

2003-09-11T15:21:00.000-04:00

1,2,3,4,5, senses workin overtime.

The weather here is fuckin glorious. I'm in a stellar fuckin mood. I'm gonna have this place to myself for the weekend. I'm fixin to throw down.

Also, the only word I can think of in the english language that can inspire as much zeal, fear, awe, indignation, fanaticism, mystery, adoration and philosophy as God is pussy. Any other suggestions?

2003-09-09T23:36:00.000-04:00

Why do women endlessly torture me?

If one isn't fuckin with me emotinally, then they're drivin around with stuffed animals lining the rear window of their cars like some macabre, fuzzy Last Supper. I got Care Bear Stared ten times over this morning. And you know what, it did nothing for my mood. Those cartoons lie.

2003-09-08T16:33:00.000-04:00

The only way this day could get any more boring is if I started talking.

2003-09-06T01:22:00.000-04:00

Fuck.

I accidentally reset my counter.

Guess it makes some sense now that I'm on PA time. Which isn't different from GA time, but distance alone has to count for something.

2003-09-05T18:19:00.000-04:00

I had a dream last night where one of my best friends got a job on a sitcom. It was an instant hit. Mostly due to his catch phrase, "Shit, my mama says that!" And that's really all he ever said.

I don't know how to feel about this.

2003-09-04T01:49:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I wish I was the guy in "Summer of '69".

I know I'd never get far & there's no use in complaining, but at least I'd rock at karaoke.

2003-09-04T00:57:00.000-04:00

Get this BULLFUCKINSHIT!

i was just told that it was lame to love Smokey Robinson & The Miracles. Not just that, but Motown and/or doo-wop bands in general.

What is wrong with the youth these days?

2003-09-04T00:37:00.000-04:00

I tried to change my commenting shit to that ever-so-brilliant Haloscan, but I was informed that they are not taKin folks at the time.

I think the fact that Hotdamn Doyle has signed them up with the Cheese of the Month Club will be changing minds awful goddamn fast, tho.

You know, right now, I'm just drunk enough to make the official got nothing to lose phone call to the ex. Please...someone....stop me. I'm serious... I can't afford this.

2003-09-03T18:23:00.000-04:00

I could go for a good 15 year coma right now. Maybe by then everything that bugs me will have disappeared, or intensified tenfold. That's possibly too dangerous, then, how bout a good set of broken legs. And a nurse, a hot nurse, to bathe me. Sounds good.

I'm only eatin this pizza cause I know if I don't I'll die. I'm not in a food mood at the moment...this week.

Have you ever been so mad at someone that you wanted to car jack em? It's a pretty good feeling actually. Stop light at midnight, flash of steel and pedal to the metal. I can think of a good baker's dozen that deserve it.

The PA DMV can choke on my balls.

And once again I am going to change my commenting system.

Since I'm not on the two packs a day, fifth a night diet anymore my tongue has regained it's long forgettin healthy pink hue. That ashy, bone white was gettin worrisome.

I ignore this blog too much. I ignore fellow bloggers far too much. I guess I should shape up or ship out.

Superstar says she'll be back to bloggin in the next few days. She seems excited at the prospect.

I have a bottle of rum that I'm fixin to knock the bottom out of, to hell with my tongue hue. So AIMers beware. I might rank you out.

In closing, tellin your lady "Gitchyer shit...we're goin!" is equally as proper as "Sweetie, don't forget, we both have early meetings in the morning and I'd hate for you to not be well rested."

2003-08-31T02:29:00.000-04:00

Man, I could've swore I saw Katharine Isabelle at Target today. Carefullly going over the moisturizers. I should have asked her out. But I was afraid that she would mace me. Not the spray, but whip out a thick mace and crack my skull like a fortune cookie. Which would have been interesting. Makes you think.

2003-08-29T17:02:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I still wallow in pain over ex-K, other times I'm distantly snobbish to the "ship" & others I just can't bring myself to care anymore. I'm emotionally exhausted. Not just over her, but over my life in general for the past 3 years.

Anyway, the only reason I brought any of that mess of shit up is while thinkin about her, I was reminded of my first, great crush. Her name was Stephanie Zinonie. All through the Eighties I wanted to be her C-O-O-L R-I-D-E-R like a mother fucker.

I bring that up cause I need a new crush. I'm gettin a little tired of my old ones. And the gal doesn't even have to be famous. Just somone you think deserves my unrequited attentions.

Plus, I could use a little female contact (any kind at all) anyway. I should really get out more. I mean, I'm not THAT ugly. Or so I'm told.

2003-08-26T18:59:00.000-04:00

Question.

Does anyone elses' mother have a particular curse or swear that's not really a curse or swear? You know, something kind of close, but say she doesn't exactly want to belt out the blue, yet desires an epithet that will bring across all the frustation and consternation she may be feeling.

My mother's favorite is "God Bless America!"

Mom is making a sandwich and some mayo falls from the knife onto the countertop and she hisses, "God Bless America!"

Just wondering if there are other ma's in the world that have such phrases.

2003-08-26T18:35:00.000-04:00

Ahem.

I went to the Corvette show in Carlisle this past Saturday. Mesmerizing. I haven't drooled that much over cars without women laid across them in quite some time.

Too often of late, I feel like a horse with a broken leg, waiting patiently for the kind man with a 12 gauge. At least I've retained some sense of anticipation.

On my way to the Liquor Store in a Strip Mall I noticed a very, very attractive lady working in a store called Wedding World. I thought of swaggerin in and askin her out. Till I realized the name of the store. I don't think I could date a woman around all that all day. That is even if she's single. She may already be married. I don't think I could even marry a woman around all that all day. She's gonna be bitter and vile about relationships as I. Or she's gonna marry the first schmuck that comes along with a tongue like honey i.e. me. Both are poison.

2003-08-21T22:12:00.000-04:00

I shouldn't be allowed near telephones or the internet when drinkin. Cause I want to talk to EVERYONE. I track people down, or try to. I talk too much, too long and get real silly. I admit it, I'm a drunk dialer. And a drunk chatter. And an embarrassment to myself and others. Maybe I should invest in some that stationary with the header IN REGARDS TO LAST NIGHT, I APOLOGIZE FOR...

Yeah, that's the ticket.

2003-08-20T22:34:00.000-04:00

Oh yeah, Miss Exit Zero herself has officially moved to Texas. So if you ever want to venture into Atlanta...fuckin DON'T. It sucks now. I'm gone, ATL is gone. There's no reason for that city to fuckin exist anymore. Except for Chuck Fuck, Buttch, Bridget and The Punk Rock Lawyer. There really are more people than those that are cool in Atlanta but you'd be lucky to meet them. You have to got through channels.

Anyway, this'll make someone feel good. While in Ole Miss, Superstar drove away from a gas station in flash with the gas nozzle still stuck in her car. She got halfway down the road, noticed the handle stickin out of her GMC Jimmy, pulled over, threw it away and called me flushed with embarrassment. I was thrilled. It really made my day. I love it when people do that shit. Except when it's my gas station. Still, big points for stickin it to Exxon.

2003-08-20T22:24:00.000-04:00

I am completely fuckin bored.

I've done nothing worth anyone's life or time the past few days. At least I got steak on my birthday. I didn't even get drunk. So sad. So I'm gettin drunk now. And I wish someone was around to chat with. I don't want to call anyone. I want to be contacted. I want to be remembered. I want to be the Trans Am from Smokey and The Bandit, I mean, chicks are impressed by length, even if it is the length of your CB antennae. I used to have a CB radio in my car, during high school. Helped for nothing in a small town, but whenever I drove into Atlanta I knew where all the cops were. I used my father's old handle, Easy Rider. It always made me feel 70's and porno. Or, more appropirately, 70's and motorcycle magazine. Which is how everyone should feel at least once in their life. This wine has to be better than store bought. I think it's hotel stolen. I can find nothing to fill me much anymore. Lookin for the happy. Maybe I'm wookin por nub in all da wong paces. Wookin por nub. Who knows? I'm in a shame spiral. All of the sudden my wonderful life turned into turmoil and I handled it about as poorly as one can and still stay out of prison or rehab. And I can't figure out what to do next. No thrills, no chills, no hopes, no dreams. But I suppose I've dreamt enough. I've waited too long. I had more fun than I should have. I forgot to remember what to do with myself. So I'm officially stuck with myself, and, honestly, no one wants that. Not even me. Well, Wednesday morning papers didn't come, which is good cause I owe my apartment in Atlanta some flee money, but I don't know how much. I'm afraid to open the one letter they've sent me. I keep thinkin that if I drink enough I'll get the nerve to slice the envelope and take the pain. I'm not as brave as I thought. I'm a huge a pussy actually. And I really wish that I hadn't said that cause it made me start thinkin about pussy and how it's been 2 months since I've had any and how I want to pull every folicle of hair out in desperation. I've never been this long without before. I need to find a job and get an inter-office romance goin. Yeah, then get fired with a fat severance under "suspicion". Then still meet with that lady till her husband finds us and kills us in cold blood and when my family is goin thru all my shit they find this one novella I almost finished, get it published and I die again the afterlife from embarrasment since it's not that great a novella and the novel I'm workin on is much better but knowin them they won't think so.

Now, that's the life.

2003-08-18T16:16:00.000-04:00

I've commandeered a digital camera. Now, if I can only find the battery I'll try and post some pics of how I'm going to try and enjoy this birthday. Seein as I have no friends close, no girlfriend to hug me, kiss me, tell me she loves me and does her best to make sure I have a good day. No good booze available. Can't smoke in this house.

Maybe the chardonnay that I've got chillin will help my photojournalism skills.

2003-08-18T16:10:00.000-04:00

Really don't know what to blog today. I'm officially 27 as of about 6 am, give or take, and I feel it. I felt my body push over on the little odometer. 27 with nothing to show for it. Let's review the last 10 years of my life.

Went from 135 lbs. to 175 lbs. which bugs the fuck out of me.
Hair is a little thinner, tho that could be blamed on the way it's cut...doubt it.
Been in love twice. 1st time I fucked up, 2nd time I got fucked over. Both still burn.
Haven't written a novel yet.
Have had 12 different jobs, none lasted more than two years. One only lasted 6 hours.
Lost a best friend, one great grandmother, and about 6 other assorted people that I was affiliated with. Lost as in death, I didn't misplace them.
Have had sex with 10 different women. Six of whom over an extended period of time. Other 4 were one night stands.
Got to spend a week in Costa Rica partying for 5 days, spent the other two Hershey squirting in the hotel room.
Became an uncle.
Nearly killed in 2 car wrecks. Wasn't driving either time.
Have had many concussions.
3 regrets.
Drank...a lot.
Smoked...a lot.
Have had my moments.
Made many fond memories.

I'll stop right there. There's plenty more to tell, but I'm starting to bore myself.

2003-08-15T16:47:00.000-04:00

Thanks for the birthday greetings. 27 is already lookin to be a very strange year.

Speaking of strange. Shanti's last post reminded me of a dream I had the other night. I was in convenience store, actually, it was the one I used to work at back in high school and early college. Anyway, I was perusing the pill section and I saw this pack of Caffeine/Diet pills that were endorsed by Corey Haim. The box even had his picture one it. I think he was winking or something. So I started laughing maniacally, lookin for my friend who had mysteriously disappeared. I had to buy those pills. So I went to the counter, still laughing and making slanders against License to Drive and Prayer of the Rollerboys, then stopped abruptly as I realized that it was Corey fuckin Haim behind the counter. I mumbled some apologies and I think he started crying. He also tried to explain what a rough life he had. You know, being young, rich and famous with no real problems in the world at all. I left the store feeling disgusted, but I woke up laughing. And that's always nice.

So, really, this post is for you Corey Haim. Your ability to fuck up a dream, charmed life has made me smile.

2003-08-13T23:55:00.000-04:00

Drunker thank Cooter Brown.

VH1 Classics makes my world.

721, Suscom, New Wave, York, Pa.

These things, With the music...make me feel old, make me remember young, make me feel the Monte Carlo.

There's something for everyone...you just have to look.

2003-08-13T17:19:00.000-04:00

Saw the best bumper sticker in the world today.

FUCK MAFIA LAWYER SCUM

I don't necessarily agree with it. But I still wish I owned it.

2003-08-13T17:16:00.000-04:00

My birthday is on Monday. Mine and ATL Superstar. And I'm not even gonna get the good chance to enjoy it. I have no friends here in PA. My dad won't get drunk with me. So I'm gonna get good and sloshed tonight. It seems right. I'll probably be on and off this net thingy throughout the evening, so drop me an AIM chat at hotdamndoyle. I'll need the company.

2003-08-10T01:32:00.000-04:00

HITS AND ASS

Pictures Of My Cock

$1 per inch

just an experiment, folks....don't worry

2003-08-10T01:27:00.000-04:00

BEST FRIEND'S GIRL

I've met no one new here in PA. Course, I haven't really done much. The only people I know are my parents and their neighbors whose kids I hate. But, really, doing the meet and greet ain't my shit anyhow.

I've got something better.

I do have a new best friend, though. It's Cinemax after 11 pm. And I love its ladies. Cin has gotten me through a lot of shit these past fews weeks. I feel I'm adapting admirably.

2003-08-05T19:13:00.000-04:00

Fuckin A, I'm on a roll to-goddamn-day. New posts and new comments. Making up for lost time is a bitch and a half.

2003-08-05T17:37:00.000-04:00

I was cutting grass not too many hours ago and I nearly killed a bunny.

Blazing along, 48 inch blade sharper than the ass of hell neatly slicing grass at an exponential rate (2nd speed), I noticed a little brown spot in the otherwise emerald yard. I thought it only a patch of dead grass, but as I approached I realized it had a white, fluffy tail, big black eyes and was breathing rather rapidly. I slammed on the brakes, inches short of a massacre. It didn't move. Not a muscle. I screamed at this bunny to flee or perish. Still sat still. I couldn't believe it wasn't terrified of me and my machine of death, or of me yelling, pleading with it to just move about a foot to the left. So I went around it. As I came back to the spot again, the bunny was gone.

I'm glad I didn't just run the thing over and chop it into chum. Not because these filthy rodents are supposed to be cute and remind us all of simpler hippity-hoppity times. It was the mess. I mean, it was a fair sized rabbit and I wasn't really up to hosing bunny from the Snapper. Too many questions would be asked, and I would have no good answers.

Anyway, the point of this post is....I got stared down by a fuckin bunny.

2003-08-05T17:21:00.000-04:00

Long time, no blog. Here goes the short version. I'm in PA now, all fuckin moved and shit, looks pretty good so far. My sister's cancer got removed, looks pretty good so far. My mother had more of her stomach removed in a surgery last Tuesday, looks pretty good so far. My papa's pacemaker is looking pretty good so far, too.

Now, as long as my father and I don't have cancer ourselves, things just might turn out okay.

2003-06-26T13:42:00.000-04:00

Woah, shit. Blogger done gone and fuckin changed. I'm confused. Lost. In complete disarray. But I'm beginning to slowly feel better. Slowly.

Oh, thanks Boz and Shanti for commenting and being nice.

It's been one fucked up two weeks. My mother finally got out of the hospital today, we had to admit her last Wednesday. Her pancreas is a mess of infection and scarring, so is her stomach. She had some of her stomach removed due to ulcers about 5 years ago, it got infected, then infected her pancreas and she hasn't been the same since. Off and on healthy. And she needs me to come and help take care of her. I'll hopefully be gettin back to Atlanta tomorrow. My apartment is a mess and I really want to get just fuckin hammered. And then run into some hottie that I've always had a crush on or a very ex girlfriend that's as fucked up as I am then lay some pipe. That's the one thing I'm gonna miss about Atlanta.

Oh yeah, more bad news. My sister has cervical cancer. She goes under the laser blade or whatever it is they use next month. Right around the day she's supposed to get married.

As for me right now, I'm hungry. There are some cinnamon buns in the oven downstairs. And I think I'll make some chocolate milk. I don't get to eat this good back home. Which will soon be my old home and where I am right now will be back home when I'm in Atlanta.

I'm sure I'll post more later.

2003-06-16T21:04:00.000-04:00

So, it's been a few hours or so since I've posted. I don't really expect anyone to actually see this. It's just for my own sake. I'm sure I've been abandoned by now. But I have a few minutes of internet time & thought I'd update a little.

Life sucks pretty fuckin bad right now. I lost a job, K has demolished me emotionally, heart broken, stomped, splinters stuck in rubber heels. I'm broke. Most of my friends have moved on to greener pastures. Those being happy, healthy (theoretically) relationships and marriages. I'm in the dust of progress folks. I'm in a very unhappy place.

So here's what's gonna happen. I'm leaving. Leaving Georgia. Moving to Penn to be closer to my parents. Especially my mother, she's quite unhealthy, my father travels more than one man should have to, so I figured I could step up, finally be a good son and help take care of her.

Atlanta has become too many bad memories. It's really just a small town with tall buildings. It isn't all that different from Cedartown once you peel back a couple of layers. Tryin to make something of myself there without already being rich or screwing people over has become tiresome. That and I'm tired of being lied to. Not just from K, but from everyone I meet. Life is a scam.

So I'm off to PA. Maybe I'll be allowed to live a life there.

2003-04-28T13:53:00.000-04:00

My tax refund came in this morning.

I'm going to pay my rent, get new brakes for my car, pay on my LOOOOOOOOOONG overdue credit card and party like it's on sale for $19.99.

What is everyone else gonna do? That is if you got a refund. If you didn't, I pity.

2003-04-25T16:05:00.000-04:00

My niece's third birthday party is tomorrow. I'll try and get some pics, that child is cuter than hell. And yes, hell is cute, that's why it's hell. Satan has superb decorative tastes. He's rather the dandy. What I'm gettin at is that I have no idea what to get her. Not a clue in the world. What do three year olds like? Besides candy and cake. She has EVERYTHING. Doesn't need clothes, toys, anything. My sister told me to get her whatever, whatever that is. I'm just gonna go to Toys R Us and see what I can dig up for big and cheap. The problem is that I'll probably end up buying more toys for me than her.

2003-04-25T13:57:00.000-04:00

Oh yeah, Superstar is back in town. I picked her up at the airport about an hour or so ago. But don't expect any blogging from her. She won't be near a computer. Just thought I'd give you Exit Zero fans an update on the heroin(e) and to let you know that she is safe, sound and ready to party down.

2003-04-25T13:55:00.000-04:00

I mentioned the other day that I may be getting sick. I was right. I love being right. Because I'm never right. The past few days I've spent in unholy flu-like terror. I'm still not completely recovered. I can't get back to smoking yet, my throat is still a bit too sore and all the sinus build up isn't conducive to a healthy smoking atmosphere. They don't taste as good when ill.

I'm right pissed that I'm sick, too. There's gonna be a big party tomorrow night. A friend of mine is finally graduating from college. It took her nine years to get her BA in Business. That sounds sad, but at least she went back and stuck it out. I refuse to do that. I hate school. I mean, I really hate it. I hate it so much I dropped out halfway thru my senior year. I guess I could've graduated. But I really hate school.

So to recap. I'm sick, it sucks, big party, gonna rock it still, I hate school.

2003-04-25T13:43:00.000-04:00

Ten fuckin comments. Yes. That is a Landfill record. And it was very muchly nicely cooly to have a new commenter, this link's for you.

2003-04-22T15:52:00.000-04:00

The title of that last post wasn't so much a personal comment on my personal life as it was an effort to get a douche ad to appear in my little ad spot up top there.

I'm very disappointed.

DOUCHE BAGS!

2003-04-22T15:37:00.000-04:00

I AM ONE BIG FUCKIN DOUCHE BAG

I just cleaned up my "office". I've been putting it off for months. It took me two hours to sort and file all the CD's, press kits and notes I've made the past few months. And, suddenly, I feel better. Simply from accomplishing a task. I've noticed that the more I put things off, the less inclined I am to do anything. I think, "Fuck all, I can't do this till I do that, but I really don't want to do that because I don't have the money at the moment, so I'll just sit and worry till they cut off all of my utilities and I cry."

I really am one sad fucker when it comes to prioritizing and taking care of the necessities. I skim on the important shit then bitch a blue streak when it bites me on the ass. Looks like I'm gonna have to start safety pining notes to my shirt just so I won't screw anything else up.

2003-04-22T13:49:00.000-04:00

Good God. What a fuckin day. It's sunny, cool, with the sweetest breeze I've ever felt. I wish I was on the patio at The Brewhouse with some friends, drinkin a crisp pint of Strongbow or a pint sized Jack-n-Coke. Definitely not here at work, trying to say nice things about crappy indie bands. At least I have a window. And it's open. So, I can sort of feel the breeze and see the day.

I think I may be gettin a bit sick. It's not SARS, though it should get the Nobel Prize for Most Talked About Virus this year. Or at least a Grammy for Best New Artist.

I'm also completely unmotivated. I have plenty that I need to take care of, just no energy to dump the load of bricks from my shoulders. Uninspired is gettin lots of mileage out of my life lately.

2003-04-21T13:39:00.000-04:00

I have returned to my blog. Not with any fresh outlook on life or after a particularly Hollywood style adventure, but because I'm back at work and this is the only place I have internet access. Thanks for worrying, though Shanti. I hope my many imaginary deaths were not only ludicrous, but absolutely heroic. Please tell me I saved at least one cute gal and she wept at my pile of cars/pile of Nazis/engulfed in nuclear flames/wrecked spaceship/crumbled evil castle grave. And that there was room for a sequel.

Not just also, but big importance, many thanks go out to Boz for the mixed disc he sent me. I'm sending two his way, I will hopefully finish them tonight if I can tear myself away from Zone of the Enders: The Second Runner and Heroes of Might & Magic (yeah, I know that one is old, but I only paid $10 for it the other day). The CD is triple cool, it starts off with Screamin Jay Hawkins, damn right.

Now on to another silly bit of ranting about something no one cares about:

My grandmother is the worst cook. And she's Southern. Now, I know it's somewhat sacrileligous to say such a thing, especially since nearly every Southerner has the grandma that's just he best cook ever. Southern foods, mind you, which mostly entails pie, biscuits, chicken, beans, etc. Not mine. She can't cook for shit. That's one of the many reasons I hate going back to Cedartown for family gatherings because she's gonna fuckin cook. Her biscuits are like clods of loose dirt. You pick one up, you think, "Hey, biscuit," you try to eat it, you think, "Hey, big fuckin mess," cause it just broke apart into a million different pieces. It's almost like a building crumbling to the ground. It falls here, it falls there, you pick it up from the floor, butter falls all over your pants which makes you think of a dirty joke or limerick, it's just a mess. Her turkey is too dry, her gravy is too thin and lifeless, mashed potatoes are runny, well, I suppose I should stop now, before I get struck by a thunderbolt or some such nonsense. Plus, I could really bitch about that woman for ages. Besides being a bad cook, she's a pretty horrible person. I could, but I won't go into what she's done to my sister and mother.

2003-04-16T14:58:00.000-04:00

People think I got the power cause I got the monkeys. They're wrong. I got the power, cause I'll set the monkeys loose. People don't goddamn understand that and that don't goddamn understand me.

I want too much out of life.
I want my relationship to be smooth with no big drama or problems.
I want to be more trusting.
God forbid, I actually want to get married. Not this instant, though.
I want to make more money.
I want to make a living as a real writer.
I want to go up to Emmanuel Lewis and say, "Whatchu talkin bout, Willis?"
I want to go on The Price Is Right and when Bob asks me for my bid on The Showcase Showdown I want to say, "Make it a true daily double, Alex."
I want one of these.
I want to be a baller, shot caller.
I want to change my name to Joey Joe Joe Junior Shabadoh.
I want my mom to not be sick anymore.
I want my sister to be happy.
I want people I care about to not break up or get divorces.
I want some people to not get together at all.
I want reality shows to burn, burn, burn in Hell.
I want Angel Season One on DVD.
I want to have superpowers.
I want to lose a little on the ole gut.
I want to die in a hilarious, ironic tragedy. Maybe a flaming safe full of the lotto money I just won to fall on my head or something.
I want to be not forgotten.
I want professional sports to just quit suckin. You prima donna fuckwads have ruined every sport for me.
I want some girlie to internet crush me. I get jealous of the other guys.
I want to dethrone a potentate or any record holder.
I want Hollywood actors to do their job and shut the fuck up otherwise.
I want Alex Hale, Jr to return from the dead and yell at me about something I just fucked up.
I want fanny packs to disappear entirely.
I want a wheelchair like Kevynn Malone.
I want to finish my real novel as well as my trashy romance novel.
I want a double barreled sawed off 12 gauge.
I want to be able to have great sex even if I am just completely can't form words or eye contact drunk.
I want Justine Bateman to come out of hiding and profess her love to me.
I want my upstairs neighbor to not blast her stereo at 6 am.
I want, just once, to be the hot guy that gets noticed soon as I enter the room.
I want to not be so goddamned insecure.
I want to be in love forever.
I want Mork suspenders to make a startling comeback.
I want to be friends with Jimmy Fallon.
I want popular bands to be required to have talent.
I want Fred Durst to just go away. Forever.
I want to be truly appreciated.
I want to end this list now.

2003-04-15T13:58:00.000-04:00

I am positively the most unphotogenic guy around. Superstar has put a pic of me on her site that she took yesterday. Despite being horribly wrong on film...or on digitial....whatever....I always seem to be smoking when I have my picture taken. I guess it's to take away from my face. Or maybe I'm just addicted to nicotine.

2003-04-14T18:58:00.000-04:00

Well, maybe I am a little loved. Got a random hit from Janelle. She was nice enough to say something nice so I'll be nice and link her because that's what I do so I'll look important with a shitload of links so one day when I die and God looks at my blog to see if I should get into to Heaven he'll say something like, "Holy shit, you've gotta lotta links there. You did give back. Too bad you're a right bastard, down you go."

2003-04-14T18:37:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure if I've discussed this before or not. Actually, not so much discussed as stated, plainly.

I have no sense of smell.

I've noticed of late that people are posting personal info, especially what with all the blogswapping going around. Not having a sense of smell isn't all that personal of a thing. Everyone knows. It's just something that people freak out over. Being blind or deaf is no big thing to most, but soon as I belt out my lack of olfactory perceptiveness, I've seen folks choke on french, woah, nix that, choke on FREEDOM fries.

Is it that weird a thing?

And to answer some questions I might get.

You mean, you can't smell ANYTHING?

Nothing, notta. No odors. Not even an open sewer, sulfur plant, fart in a car, gas, BO, fish (if you know what I mean), fresh made buscuits, death, homeless people....nothing.

Are you lying?

Often, but not right now.

Why can't you smell anything?

Honestly, I don't know. I've never been to a doctor about it. I didn't really even begin to notice or realize it till round junior high. I've had to prove it by inhaling things like ammonia and having no reaction what-so-ever. You know, my parents never believed me. They often forget. I have to ask people to smell milk or ham or the like to see if I can still eat it when I'm not sure how long it's been in my fridge, regardless of expiration dates.

Are you a freak or something?

Possibly.

Can you still have sex?

Yes. No sense of smell does not impede my sexual prowess or ability to get it up whenever I feel like it which is like 10 times a day. Much to the chagrin of K.

Why you? Why not, like Kato Kaelin or somebody else equally evil?

I don't know. The Lord works in mysterious ways. Take the popularity of Ashton Kutcher for instance.

Um, I guess that's it. I'm sure I could fabricate more questions, but I might go over 200 words and that's apparently bad.

2003-04-14T14:42:00.000-04:00

Astronomically speaking, I may have a chance.

Well, I'm back. Anyone miss me? No? Thought so. I'm unloved. In a big way.

I'll give a short update anyway. Friday night I met and chatted with The D4. The wildest, nicest New Zealand rock n roll motherfuckers around.

For the rest of the weekend I did nothing. Literally. Nothing. I can't believe I even bothered to shower and get dressed on Saturday. Actually, I take it back, I did have people over on Saturday. Superstar, Krohne, The Gruesome Twosome and Bosh Bohnson. I don't expect anyone to know who those people are other than ATL herself. And really, you shouldn't.

I'm feeling pretty goddamn bad for myself today. Nothing is worthwhile. Don't ask why. I surely don't know. Maybe cause it's a fuckin hilariously gorgeous day out and I can't enjoy it like I want. Bastard job. That and I feel unloved. I need a hook for this blog. Something to bring the folks in. Boz corners the market on cool shit so I'm gonna have to dig deep to come up with something. The only thing I came up with was Post My Ass. Someone told me I needed to write a post cause they were bored and needed a good read and I told them, "Post my ass." So I figured I should get people to send me pictures of their ass and I would post it with a nice description and link. It doesn't have to be bare ass, it can be clothed. And no pictures of dookie exiting and ass. Tasteful. Tasteful is the key. Anyway, it's just a thought. I probably won't be doing that.

So to close. I'm feelin a bit drifty lately. It's about fuckin time I got my life shit together and got a job where I make money and stop dickin around 24-7, maybe cut it back to 16-7 and actually do something with my life which I refuse to call pitiful or wretched because that's a bit overdone and will instead say it should arrive in 6 to 8 weeks but don't get your hopes up.

2003-04-08T19:44:00.000-04:00

I have arrived in PA. I made my flight by the skin of my teeth. I boarded right as they were closing up shop.

They had all of these signs up in Hartsfield proudly proclaiming the Code Orange Smog, I mean Terrorist Alert. These signs not only informed us of the warning level but also to notify the closest sercurity person if they noticed anything out of the ordinary. Apparently, a white guy (me) running full speed through the check points and terminals who happens to be right behind a black guy (not me) doing the exact same thing isn't odd in the slightest. He was carrying an aged brown leather briefcase, I had my aged brown leather travel bag. Both with looks of determination, what kind? Who knows? No one bothered to stop us, or even question us. Obviously, a couple of disheveled guys weilding carry-ons that often contain bombs or box cutters running like maniacs is an everyday event.

2003-04-07T15:14:00.000-04:00

Could It Be Over?

The ongoing Andie and Stacie Teenage Lesbian Love Belching might be nearing it's end. They're just too far apart, right from the start. If they could only be, closer to each otherrrrrrrrrrrrr now.

Am I wrong for mocking their love?

2003-04-07T14:12:00.000-04:00

I don't know how much I'm gonna get to post this week. I'm flying up to PA on the morrow to visit my folks. Then, on Thursday, I'm riding back down to Georgia with my mother. It's a good twelve hour drive and I don't want her to go at it alone.

I'm such a good son.

Plus, since she's gonna be around. I get some groceries bought for me. And not just hot dogs, cheap pasta sauce and bourbon. I mean, real food. What people with money buy.

Anyway, the moral of this post is: A twelve hour drive is worth it for food.

2003-04-07T14:05:00.000-04:00

Chocolate covered mints freak me out.

That doesn't really have anything to do with my day or my current mood. A co-worker was eating one earlier, and I displayed strong, nervous reactions. They just taste funny. Even Junior Mints.

I realized a new life goal earlier. To make someone regress mentally to state of complete despair. A Vietnamesque Flashback if you will. The discussion centered around this superb asshole that I know on a purely "been around the guy" basis. And it was decided that he had to put on this bastardly front because his father used to beat the shit out of him (not that child abuse is funny, it's detestable, but thinkin about this guy getting hell is rather pleasing). But it made me realize how much pleasure I would derive from causing someone I dislike to lapse into a state of psychosis forcing them onto the ground in a fetal position by using only a simple phrase or motion. Like the aforementioned guy. I mean, if he really started to piss me off or some shit, I could reach for my belt, threaten to unbuckle it, pull it off and lash the fuck out of him. Would he collapse and start crying pitifully? What if I added, "Don't make me beat the tar outta you, boy,"? I do realize this is quite sadistic. But I'm not limiting my goal to this one person. It could work on anybody with mental trauma. Such as forcefully taking someone's lunch money. If it's the right person, it's possible they would become catatonic with fear reliving grades one through twelve and that cro-magnon who terrorized them throughout school. Or start playing that" All your base are belong to us" number, thus causing someone (mobs of people) to run away screaming because of the overexposure that simple phrase has gotten.

Really, just about anything will work. I'm getting giddy at the prospects.

2003-04-03T15:25:00.000-05:00

Employers are devious. You'd think that they would know better.

Especially when you are not easily replaced.

Like me.

The fact that you can be equally devious and heinous in your own employee fashion should have most bosses around the world walking on thin ice. Yet, it is you that has to. And really, how fair is that? You are the employee. The job is there for you. You're not there for the job. The job was created and exists because someone needs your help to make money or supply the masses with God knows what. Still we're treated like shit. Of course, I'm being atrociously general here, but in a sense, it rings true everywhere. Basically, what I'm trying to say is: Don't take shit.

Be aggressively sarcastic. Right from the get go. That way, when the job is really beginning to suck red babboon ass and your boss turns into prick extrodinaire, you can degrade him or anyone else around you and no one will think anything of it. "Oh, that kidder," they'll say. And you'll smile inwards, directly at that little bastard that resides in all of us.

If they try to cut your pay or benefits, strike. Quit immediately. Or become Tyler Durden. All are acceptable.

They will try to keep you complacent and quiet with things like coffee, casual Friday, Hawaiin shirt day, and all the paper clips you can imagine. Unfortunately, for many people, these are the only "perks" of the job. So abuse these perks. Drink all the coffee, horde paper clips, on casual Friday, wear those stone washed jeans you wore to the Poison show for Look What The Cat Dragged In. Take advantage of everything remotely offered. It's the only way to make your work life anywhere near bareable. Oh yeah, don't be embarassed to steal. Steal everything you can get your hands on. If people come to visit and half of your posessions have Soulless Fuckin Company, Inc embossed on them, don't be ashamed. Your friends and family will find it endearing that you're stickin it to the man.

Do your work. But only put in as much effort as it takes to get it done. Do it well. But don't really try. It will make the work seem simple and your boss(es) will notice how easily and efficiently you get your shit together. Ex: "Landrum, I need this shit done by five. It's two now, it'll probably take you a while." "No problem." The first thing you need to do is assess exactly how difficult said task is. Bosses love to make things far more dramatic and overwhelming than they actually are. Because, believe me here, no matter how pitiful you think your existence is, theirs is ten times worse. That's why they have so much hate. Anyway, if it's simple, go ahead and do it, then move on to other tasks like blogging or AIM chatting. If it's an insurmountable task, rumple yourself. Look sweaty. Act quite annoyed. You boss will probably give you a break or at least an extension. Immediately start blogging or AIM chatting. The goal though is to make it seem you really care.

At least pretend to like your co-workers. So when it's your birthday you'll get one of those delicious ass giant fuckin chocolate chip cookies. Sweet Jesus I love those fuckin things.

And last. Nine 'o clock is relative. 9:10 or 9:15 is practically 9. 9:30 or later may be pushing it, but seriously, do you really give a fuck?

That's all for now. I'll try and make sense tomorrow.

2003-04-02T17:16:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting here wondering if I should Audblog. I'm not vocally pleasing (cept I can shred it when on the karaoke) , and I'm not all that smart either. Whenever I speak, I usually wish I didn't. Unless it happened to be something very funny. Which is somewhat common, just not common enough to warrant everyone who visits this site to really care what I sound like.

And by "everyone", I mean Boz. Because, apparently, My Bozzie made me the man that I am today. So here I am. Crooning Tesla's "Love Song" at The Mutual 2002 Birthday Bash with Superstar. I sure link her a fuckin lot. Hey, did you guys know we have the same birthDAY. A year apart in age though.

Now what does any of this have to do with audio blogging?

2003-04-02T16:59:00.000-05:00

I had a dream about M*A*S*H last night.

What the fuck is that about?

I wasn't any particular character. I was just there. At the 4077. If that isn't weird, I've probably only seen like 6 full episodes of the show in my entire life. I see bits and pieces here and there. But, I never thought I was such a fan that I would fuckin dream about it. I've got to get a better subconscious.

2003-04-02T16:56:00.000-05:00

Man, I'm so fuckin proud of myself. I'm the 294th hit on Yahoo when one looks up Coke vs Dr. Pepper.

And my high school guidance counselor thought I was making the biggest mistake of my LIFE by dropping Data Processing and taking Drama. What a whore.

2003-04-02T13:01:00.000-05:00

I know everyone has just been terribly, terribly, fear for my life worried at my absence. I've been moving since Friday. Moving encapsulates the entire packing process, the actual moving process and the unpacking disaster. Many, many, many thanks to Superstar for helping me. She got her boyfriends truck and was a real trooper. I owe her big. As usual.

Right now, I'm sorely frustrated. I had all this funny fuckin shit that I wanted post. But I can't fuckin remember it. I'm fuckin bitter. Errg. See, they need to make waterproof paper so I can write while I'm in the shower. I was really crackin myself up this morning. And it wasn't from being naked or the soap bubbles tickling or anything like that. You dirty bastards.

2003-04-02T12:17:00.000-05:00

Before I get into any sort of self-deprecation and self-promotion and self-proclaiming, I need to give "shout-outs" to certain folks who have stopped by my shithole of a blog to register complaints/comments. First off is Cacoa who called me lame and I really appreciate it. No lie. Then there's Whitey Owns Me who recognized and responded in kind to a Replacements quote. It was cool thing.

Last, but certainly not least, cause she's getting her own paragraph here is Shanti. She said some super nice things about me. Her and Superstar are running neck and neck now in Fuckin Cool Ass Chicks That Read My Blog/Stockholm Syndrome Marathon . There are other fine ladies what read this muck, I acknowledge you as well. Don't think I'm not grateful. But these two have gone above and beyond the call of duty.

I'll post more shortly.

2003-03-27T14:10:00.000-05:00

I should probably mention that despite all the hell on earth that's been going on. It's fuckin gorgeous outside. I mean, for like two weeks it's been mid to low 70's, sunny with some sweet Georgia breezes, safe, cool and warm.

It's powerful hard to stay at work. All I can think about is frozen drinks. All of them. And I'm not even all that partial to frozen drinks. Especially margaritas. Tequila puts me right to sleep. Not that kind of sleep. I just get very sleepy after drinking one. All it takes is one.

I'll stick with the Jim-n-Cokes. Safe, cool and warm.

2003-03-27T13:38:00.000-05:00

There is absolutely nothing happening...with me. Except for the fact that I'm moving next Monday and will be spending this entire weekend not partying, but packing.

The only other thing is that I've been slaving for hours on end to perfect this Elvis mix for my sister. It's not like a mix tape, but a literal blending of elvis songs into one huge song that her and others like her will perform at a play. She volunteered to do the music for the thing knowing full well that she hasn't a clue in ten different dimensions how to put that sort of thing together. Couldn't do costumes or the background. Nooooo. Had to pick something that she could pass on to someone else and as soon as they start taking a little too long with it because they have no idea how those crazy women want everything arranged, she gets to bitch a blue streak two weeks wide.

Well, I finished it.

And it sucks.

That'll teach 'em.

2003-03-26T13:36:00.000-05:00

Something was said last night from my "significant other". Her and a friend were discussing the Trading Spaces Ty, King Ty, God Almighty aka Ty. Anyway, this is what was said:

"He is such a womanizer, but...it's kind of charming."

Now, that statement set Nice Guy Suffrage back about 200 years. Women, and your "I'm just looking for a nice guy".

Please.

2003-03-23T21:46:00.000-05:00

So, to continue with the trend that earned me my most precious of all awards, The Bozzie, I must say it was nice to meet new people. Notably Melly Mel and Amy Choppa.

Really, I would be doing my award a disservice by not linking. It's my apparent forte'.

2003-03-23T21:39:00.000-05:00

Now to celebrate with a big ass styrofoam container of goddamn Hot Wings!

2003-03-23T21:29:00.000-05:00

Holy Shit I won a fucking Bozzie. But I won't pull a Hale Berry. I should probably ramble on then get cut off like Sinatra at The Grammys. Anyway, thanks Boz. As the New Guy being noticed means shitloads. Really, I need such recognition. I'm just that shallow...for life.

So here it is:

HEY, OVER HERE, IT'S ME THE NEW GUY
I KNOW YOU DON'T KNOW MUCH ABOUT ME
BUT ISN'T THAT WHAT THIS AWARD IS ALL ABOUT?
CONSIDER YOURSELF LINKED ...
FOR LIFE

2003-03-21T13:15:00.000-05:00

FUCKIN A

(stolen from Dave Barry who "Thanks to Ariel Raunstien" for the link)

2003-03-21T13:09:00.000-05:00

ZESTO HOT WINGS ARE MADE IN HELL

I polished off my leftover hot wings last night. A whopping eight. And the little bastards took it personally. I awoke at some time this morning with stomach pains. Felt like someone was pressing a cinder block down on my belly. So I phased through my bedroom wall to the bathroom. Now, it's pretty sketchy from here on out. I remember lots of pain, lots of screaming, nausea, fighting back vomit, verbal contracts with God. When I went in, it was still dark outside, when I came out, the sun was coming up. And I was exhausted.

Maybe I should take a hot wing break. Not break-up, just some alone time. Figure things out.