Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Don't Be Illiteral

I shot a movie this weekend. I shot all over my house, and all I did was scream. I screamed directions. I screamed my lines. I screamed for coffee. I screamed in thanks for coffee. I screamed as I pooped from coffee. I screamed about how I screamed at pooped. I screamed why people weren't excited for me.

It makes me wonder why more people don't scream. Everything would be better. Everything would have added importance to it, and eventually no one would want to talk anymore. Movies would be way more awesome because everything would be intense. Radio would be more awesome because everything would be more intense. And speaking - or screaming - of shooting, I think everyone should have a gun on them at all times. I don't want people to shoot each other. No, that's not nice. But I do think that everything would be more awesome if you could scream and fire guns in the air while describing it. Instead of throwing caps at graduation, fire your semi-automatic in the air. Instead of throwing birdseed at as the bride and groom leave the church, fire your automatic in the air. Instead of Tweeting, shoot Tweeters.

I want to be able to stand outside my house and fire my super-automatic gun machine gun into the air as I scream hello to my neighbor, and don't stop screaming. I hope that he will be able to fire and scream back. We'll scream about how a lovely day it is, and fire in excitement over our blue skies, new shoes, big shit. Fixing shit is easy. Shoot at it! Toilet clogged up? Shoot at it! Scream at it! Phone doesn't work? Shoot at it! Scream at it! Can't scream anymore? Shoot about it! Can't afford anymore bullets? Scream about it!

I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream. I scream in the car. I scream in my shoes. I scream for breakfast lunch and dinner, and forth meal, and noonsies. A big bowl of I scream. A big bowl of shoot. A big bowl of fuck. A big bowl of screaming shoot fuck.

Oh, and don't get ticks people... I'm just saying.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009


Clearly I'm not on this enough. Clearly I'm not a real "blogger." If I were anything like the real deal I'd be posting every 20 seconds while yelping my ass off about the food I was eating right now!!!

It's delicious
I'm shitting
I burped
I'm shitting
This sucks
I'm pissing
I can't remember that band
I'm shitting again
I forgot my pants
This taser hurts!!!
I'm farting
I'm getting on BART
I'm shitting!!!
I'm getting off BART
I'm running!!!
They're trying to arrest me!!!
I'm shitting!!!
But I'm still running!!!!

The question is how to blog nonstop and still function properly as a kind and endearing member of society. The answer should be simple and straight forward, like: Hot glue your laptop to your party mule and ride it to work/cafe/friends house/toilet. But it isn't that easy, is it?! First of all, mules aren't allowed on BART (well, unless you take the last car at the end of the night). What about a video visor? Do they attach to iPhones? But I can't look at iPorn AND iBlog while I walk AND masturbate... this is a toughy!!!

A monkey on a segway with a second iPhone might work. But a segway might be too crazy for it technologically, and I don't really want to have to train him to do anything (which reminds me, I should check the Apple website for iPhone savvy monkeys). I could just give him a party dog to ride around. They could follow me while I dictate what I'm thinking, eat, shit, masturbate, and ride away from the cops on my party mule... but then I'd just have to figure out where to store them all at night! The monkey's dog just sleeps in the dog house, piece o' cake! I could get a portable shed for the backyard... but I'd have to worry about the monkey either trying to fight the party mule... or trying to party with it... and I'd have to worry about where they're gonna shit. I wouldn't be particularly comfortable with them using the house bathroom - mostly because they'd just raid the fridge and end up pissing in the garbage can... wait. No, I got that backwards.

A more practical answer might be to just get a fancy port-a-potty that they could all just live in... but I'd have to make sure the mule didn't have access to any cocaine, because I'm sure it would try to snort it off the toilet seat, and that's just not sanitary! Now, keeping the monkey and the party mule separate is still an issue. I'd have to get two port-a-potties so that they wouldn't try to start anything. Sleeping in a port-a-potty is nice, because you can just fall asleep on the toilet and not have to worry about getting up in the night, but I would be concerned about the monkey trying to throw his iPhone into the shit... and then throwing his shit everywhere else...

Now... if I gave the monkey two iPhones, I could dictate what I was thinking over the phone and he could type AND listen! This would ensure that he and the party mule would remain separate. The party mule would need it's own iPhone too, just in case we got separated. I'd have to get the monkey a bluetooth headset to insure he would have his hands free to type out my blogs on his "typing" phone, and also in case he needed to drive. But now that I think of it, he wouldn't even have to leave the port-a-potty! He wouldn't even have to live on my property! He could be in Russia! Which means I'll have to start looking for russian dogs and think about whether it would also need an iPhone...

I just wonder... do they have port-a-potties in Russia?

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Conversations Between Me and Mr. Sunshine


MR. SUNSHINE enters stage left.








Epilogue: Oh what a wonderful day!

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Who wants to strangle BART?

I have an iPhone app (sadly yes, I'm going to use that stupid fucking word, zomg lol). My sweet new app has maps of famous subway systems from around the world. Guess what ain't on there? (hint, this is a fucking open book quiz, dammit!) Ohh wow, you guessed it! You know why? CAUSE BART FUCKING SUCKS!!!

Now, I don't mean to hurt anyone's fragile wimpy feelings, but this is true. And I've been on a few other subway systems to back up my statement. True, BART is good for several reasons. It's carpeted, so it soaks up your pee! It looks like Star Tours, so you might see C-3PO! If you get shot, Oakland has a smashy party! And if you think I'm a fucking asshole, you only have to walk 4 minutes from the MacArthur station to punch me in my face!

But there are downsides to BART. You want to go to the Richmond in SF? Sorry. You wanna go to the Haight? Oops. You wanna go the the beach? Nope! The Marina? Eh, not really. SF State? UCSF? Nah. Huntet's Point? Praise Jesus, no! Daly City? Sure can! ...wait, what? Why?!

The tickets are a little crazy too. The only place I've been with a stranger ticketing system is Rotterdam, which is cah-ray-zee, but a great subway. However, in The bay area, you pay by distance. If you get out at the same station, it's actually more than if you get off at the next. Why do you need to just chill at the station? C'mon! Maybe you need to (ahchem) make a music video... or just sing in an echoy place while you shit and piss at the same time, then sleep in it! Most places either charge a flat rate for any number of stops, or they give you a time window (ever heard of the honor system?). So by this standard, with people taking long distance trips every day... wouldn't you think BART would be loaded? Huh...?

That said, BART offers many things I generally love about metro systems: the wind as the train enters the station, crazy music and performance art, and--

Fuck! My glasses just broke! I guess that's what I get for talking shit...

Tuesday, March 3, 2009


New York City?!?!?! Ok, so I've been here. I've seen the sun, clouds and snow. It's colder than even a beard can handle. So bring it! I got to hear someone say "whoopty frickin' doo!" and ate more whoopty frickin' pizza than I have whoopty frickin' fingers. I spit and pissed and shit off the Empire State Building, and I ate live rats to my hearts content. Woody Allan lives here. Does my saying that make you uncomfortable? What if he ran around Manhattan screaming and foaming at the mouth grabbing butts and boobs? Oh, hearts on fire!! I wonder if he feels the same way about the coffee here as I do.

So now we get down to it, coffee in NYC blows! BLOWS!!! It shouldn't, right? RIGHT?! Just about every place I went - too watery! Too cold! Too chocolaty bullshitty! I went to a place in search of a good mocha, and they said they didn't have chocolate! And when the woman tried to put my cup in a to-go bag, I had a heart attack AND a stroke!! I finally tasted what was supposed to be plain old delicious coffee, and it was so bad I threw it out and went to the next closest coffee shop. Finally, when I had a decent cup of coffee, it was covered in fancy fucking bullshit!! Whipped cream... maybe. SPRINKLES!!?? Get that shit away from me!!! Dunkin' Donuts is hot shit over there too. Maybe over there it actually IS the best coffee. WTF?! FTW?!

People are gonna want to fight me for this next statement, so I'll just swing my fists and yell while I type it: FHHJJUHGfdSwfYjOkK... Okay, that didn't work. I'll try just typing: I wasn't impressed with the pizza either. Really?! I thought that was the whole point of real New York pizza. And I ate sooooo much fuckin pizza over there too. Cheese pizza, veggie pizza, white pizza, pesto pizza, fuck you pizza! It's definitely different from over here, but I prefer our bullshit pizza to what I've had. There was a pizza place next to where I was staying that was supposed to be amazing, and since I didn't actually go there... yes. It was amazing. Best pizza in all of New York. Let's just leave it at that.

It snowed over there right as I was leaving, and let me tell you, shit breaks when it snows. You might think that a city that gets snow on a regular basis would have the snow thing sort of under control. Well... no. Flights were cancelled, which is understandable. But the shuttle to the airport was straight busted. Getting from the subway to the airport took and hour and a half. The train stopped at a terminal, then waited for 15 minutes before moving to the next. Then it would get to the next terminal, stop... and go backwards to the previous terminal? When I finally got to my stop nobody could get out because there was a dude texting in the door way while everyone shouted, "c'mon buddy! Today! Pay attention!"

My flight ended up being delayed by 4 hours. On the up side, I got to sit at a restaurant and watch 8 1/2.