Dark Days Ahead

Resolutions for 2007

2006-12-31T15:58:00.000-08:00

I resolve to...

1. be more open & honest with my wife, and to be a better friend to her.
2. be a good father.
3. drink less.
4. lose weight.

It's Festivus for the rest of us!

2006-12-18T09:42:00.000-08:00

The Festivus lights are all a glow. I thought that you should know.

I am very disappointed in you.

Happy Festivus!

This year is different.

2006-12-18T09:35:00.000-08:00

This year is different. This year I have a son (as well as a very tolerant & understanding wife) to share this Christmas with. My depression has been replaced with generosity as I am in a much better place than I have been in a long, long time.

KEEP YOUR JESUS OFF MY PENIS.

2006-12-15T10:40:00.000-08:00

http://www.atomfilms.com/film/jesus_off.jsp?channelKeyword=channel_religious_heresy

Void where prohibited by law. Your mileage may vary. Not valid in all locations. Tax, Title, License, Dealer Preparation not included. It wasn't me, it was the other guy; I just look like him. I am not a lawyer, I don't even play one on TV. You must be at least This Tall to read the story. NO REFUNDS. Not responsible for items lost or stolen. Alternate side parking. Do not feed the animals. Construction area. Restricted area - Authorized Persons Only. No warranty expressed or implied. All employees must wash hands before returning to work. Dealer participation may vary. Double coupons on Wednesday. Allow 6-8 weeks for delivery.

2006-11-13T14:46:00.000-08:00

Sunday Random Thoughts

2006-08-06T10:21:00.000-07:00

Some try to tell me

Thoughts they cannot defend

Just what you want to be

You will be in the end

--Moody Blues--

End of Days

2006-07-31T17:46:00.000-07:00

Let's just say that "Armageddon" is upon us.

Now let us suppose that you were able to shift the course of man with one simple deed. What would you be willing to do to save mankind?

I was thinking about this the other night before I went to bed. My final conclusion before I drifted off to sleep like a baby was that I just don't give a shit. I do not think that saving mankind is such a good idea anyway. Evil always seems to prevail among our species, and maybe the universe is better with our annihilation anyway.

fuck it.

The Lies That I Tell

2006-07-25T09:58:00.000-07:00

Truth, Dare, or Consequences...

1. It was only one beer. (It was, but it was a 40 oz beer, and I say nothing about the shots of tequila)
2. I care about your problems. (I really don't but knowing you're fucked up makes me feel better about myself)
3. You're not fat. (C'mon, if you have to ask, go on a diet)
4. I'll go slow. (Fuck that, I'm jamming it in as hard and fast as I can)
5. That was the best Blow Job EVER. (No, it wasn't. I've had better from the Glory Hole in the Men's room at Sears)
6. I promise I won't cum in your mouth. (You're missing the point of sucking my cock if you think I'm NOT going to try to dump a load of junk down your throat!)
7. I'll pay you back as soon as possible. (Ahh, don't ever loan me money if you want it back)
8. Sorry I'm late. (Actually, if I had any respect for you, I would have been on time)
9. I'll respect even MORE in the morning. (Because I have NO respect for you right now)
10. I love you. (I really only love myself, and even then it's a weird kind of love)

A Fool And His Money...

2006-07-24T12:30:00.000-07:00

Hedonic Treadmill: the tendency for a person's economic expectations and desires to increase at the same rate as his or her income, resulting in NO net gain in satisfaction or happiness.

Global Warming and Ice Cold Beer...

2006-07-24T09:12:00.000-07:00

heat wave n.
A period of unusually hot weather.

fun ( P )(fn)n.
A source of enjoyment, amusement, or pleasure. Enjoyment; amusement: I have fun getting drunk. Playful, often noisy, activity.

alcoholism ( P )(lk-hô-lzm, -h-)n.
A disorder characterized by the excessive consumption of and dependence on alcoholic beverages, leading to physical and psychological harm and impaired social and vocational functioning, but hey, at least it isn't damaging the ozone layer.

magnetic poetry on my fridge of life

2006-07-22T09:42:00.000-07:00

magnetic poetry

~
"delicious summer night"
~
remember the dark crimson sky
father takes tiny baby off to bed
good night moon...
soft squeal - gentle wiggle - soft murmur
I kiss his cheek
I whisper, "sweet sleep"
I adore the boy
magnificent little boy
gentle scared dreams come true
~
linger in the dark hour naked
mothers in bed
I surrender to my beautiful goddess
I love her laugh
her warm sweet scent
I cuddle my angel
~
her whisper is always sensuous
we kiss and kiss
embrace and caress
delicious embrace
explore lifes rhythm
romantic pleasure
secret passion dance
~
orgasm - smile
~
I snuggle my friend
my perfect world
~
~
--Turtle--

Emotionally and Chemically Imbalanced

2006-07-19T14:14:00.000-07:00

What's the point of living if you don't have a penis? Hmmm...?

My mother used to tell me that the male sexual reproductive organ was ugly and disgusting. It just hangs there, limp and useless. Was she talking about my dick? Nah, she couldn't be. My cock is a glorious tool of hedonistic pleasure. Surely my body is just as beautiful as a womans body...right?

My father took it upon himself to touch me once...that I remember anyway. He used me for his pleasure. The worst part was, I enjoyed it. Since then, I am uncomfortable with blow jobs and any intimate sexual contact. Who would want to suck my ugly dick anyway?

I started to get high at age 15. I was invited to Jeff's house one Friday night to the regular neighborhood teenage party. That night I drank 8 shots of vodka straight with no chaser, and smoked an undermined amount of pot. I was sick for days, but I earned respect from the guys, or so I thought. Maybe I was just their clown? Was I just someone they could fuck with?

I found that the one thing I was good at was getting high. As long as I had a steady supply of drugs, I had people that wanted to be near me. Shit, that sounds as pathetic as it is true. The one thing that I needed most was the thing that I feared the most. Intimacy. To be vulnerable, and exposed, and yet loved for just that reason.

I had a friend who dropped LSD one night at a kegger and later went crazy after he spent the entire night locked away in the bathroom of a stranger's house staring into the mirror. Not so much at himself as through himself. Exposed. Naked. Alone. Vulnerable. Shit, wouldn't anyone go crazy? I did. Sometimes one has to go crazy to find ones soul.

Am I crazy today? No. Maybe? My mother-In-Law defines me as "emotionally and chemically imbalanced". Okay, that fits. It hurts, so I know it must be true. Last night I stood naked in front of the mirror in utter disgust of my body. I was ashamed. I awoke later jumping from bed screaming. I can't remember what caused it, or who. I imagine I don't really want to know. I feel sometimes that the best way to get at the "Truth" is to get into an altered state of consciousness, yet one needs to be prepared for it when it comes knocking.

All those memories are just ripples in the quite lake that is my life. Ripples I watch in retrospect, unaware sometimes on how they affect the clouds over head. Am I so different from you? So much more unwanted? Just like trash that hasn't been taken out from the trailor yet? Am I to blame? Yes, and no. What I do with the ripples is entirely up to me now.

Warning: Reading this blog may cause...

2006-07-18T12:43:00.000-07:00

The world is your oyster, but you are allergic to shellfish

2006-07-18T10:47:00.000-07:00

When I was seventeen years old, I was diagnosed with "Anti-Social Personality Disorder". I have always thought that that label actually fit the contents of my package quite accurately. I was depressed, suicidal, strung out, and a general nuisance to society as a whole. I was admitted to a drug rehab in Oakland while trying to avoid Johnny Law on a variety of miscellaneous acts of stony madness.I was admitted more or less against my will.

It was a rainy Saturday morning in October of 1985. The staff decided I may be either a flight risk (they were spot on) or a danger to myself or others, so they placed me on a 72 hour hold in the lockdown ward with nothing more than a hospital gown & my tighty whities. The lockdown ward was both a spot for addicts to detox, as well as a high price psychiatric holding tank for the well insured, over privileged white punks on dope. I fit right in. I did manage to smuggle in some pot, so at night I would sneak into the bathroom, stand on the toilet, and smoke a few hits; blowing the smoke into a very effective fan. I’d then return to bed to jerk off before slowly fading off to sleep.

I spent my days in the large day room with the other misfits of society while the staff sat behind a large counter “observing” our behaviors. The floors were tiled in hospital white linoleum and the windows were dark all day due to the heavy bars, and overcast, stormy skies. The florescent lights above flickered and gave off a weird psychedelic glow that made you look like you had jaundice. Some of the other patients were heavily medicated on lithium or other anti-psychotic mood altering goodies. They didn’t hold my interest for very long, and I avoided the glass room used as a smoking room entirely. The few magazines were out dated, but not old enough to hold any retro introspect for me. One thing about me is that I am a wee bit hyperactive and fidgety and it was here that I first seriously considered killing myself while the arrogant staff watched me in their pathetic masochistic fish tank. It was here that I first experienced five-point restraints, and padded rooms. It was here that I learned how to act crazy, a talent that one should not under appreciate. And it was here that I began to lose my mind while attempting to find my soul.

My psychiatrist used to have me play a game with him. He would pick out another patient and have me diagnose them, and explain why I had come to that conclusion. Although he really wasn’t supposed to correct me, or give me their confidential medical diagnosis, he often did. I would then wonder if he played this game with other patients, having them evaluate me while I’ll sit and picked my nose quietly in the day room. I was already suffering from paranoia, although I have always reassured myself that it was justified, because people REALLY were out to get me, so this game compounded my feelings of inadequacies.

And now that I look back on those glory days, I’d have to say that just about every fucking seventeen year old I meet could be labeled as having an “Anti-Social Personality Disorder”. Does that make me less unique? Am I less special now? I really don’t know. Today I continue to lead my completely unremarkable ordinary life of mediocrity, all the while wishing that there was another label that would separate me from the others while warning them of my impending explosive personality. “Oh, he was always such a quite neighbor”. Or maybe, “he mostly just kept to himself”. I’ll have to just resolve myself to accepting the fact that while we are all interconnected, some of the links are stronger than others, making the rest of us just work harder at looking good.

Here are some of my 2006 Predictions

2005-12-28T19:46:00.000-08:00

1. Xbox 360 will fail as a game system, but only if I buy it. (think Dreamcast)
2. The Weather Channel will be #1 in Nielsen ratings (think Global Warming)
3. In the mid-term elections, the Democrats will win the majority, and will Impeach President Bush (Think War Crimes & Crimes Against Humanity)
4. Gas will be more expensive (Price gauging by GW Bush's Yale Buddies/Bonesmen)
5. The American automakers will go bankrupt (think Hummer, Yukon, Expedition, etc @ $4.00 a gallon, but they'll punish the UAW for for poor execution of their designs)

HIS END UP

2005-12-25T14:40:00.000-08:00

F-R-A-G-I-L-E...It must be I-tal-ian!

Honey, I think it says, "fragile".

frag·ile ( P ) Pronunciation Key (frjl, -l)adj.
Easily broken, damaged, or destroyed; frail.
Lacking physical or emotional strength; delicate.
Lacking substance; tenuous or flimsy: a fragile claim to fame.

Oh, oh yeah...

Chrismas Time in San Francisco

2005-12-24T18:11:00.000-08:00

I remember your face, not like this, but I still remember you.
I was coming out of The House of Shields (a bar on New Montgomery in San Francisco) tired, drunk, and a bit nostalgic...but I still remember you. You smiled at me. I could still hear the jazz singer from the bar inside as I zipped up my jacket against the cool foggy San Francisco breeze. You had kind loving eyes. My wife was going to be waiting for me at the BART station tonight (a second round of drinks coupled with warm jazz). It was about this time of year, closing in on Christmas and the end of the year, and I was feeling sad and sorry for myself. I have a good job with the largest Telecommincations company in the country, I have a home, a wife, a dog, and really nothing to complain about...but there I was. And there you were. I don't know what has become of you. Nothing has changed in my life since that night, but I'm sure you have had to fight for survival every day since. I don't know your name. I found this picture of you on google and under your picture is this caption, "A homeless San Francisco woman". I don't remember what I said to you. I don't remember if I gave you any money. I don't know how you're doing this Christmas Eve two years later, but I still remember you. You are not forgotten. I wish I had done more for you. This year, I still feel sad and sorry formyself, but not as much. How could I? I hope you are warm and your tummy is full. I hope things have changed, but I suspect they have not. I wished I had said or done more for you that night...but I didn't, and I am sorry for that. I hope you forgive me.

It's Festivus for the rest of us!

2005-12-23T15:22:00.000-08:00

Merry Fuckin' Christmas!

The Festivus lights are all a glow.
I thought that you should know.
I am very disappointed in you.

Happy Festivus!

Life...

2005-12-22T10:59:00.000-08:00

Life is a fever dream made up of joys, embittered by sorrows, pleasures and fleeting delights, ecstasies, exhalations, happiness, interspersed with long drawn miseries, griefs, perils, horrors, disappointments and despairs.

Broken Inside

2005-12-20T13:54:00.000-08:00

when you're broken inside there are things you just can't hide

are you broken like me for all the world to see

sometimes i feel so broken inside

i just want to pull the trigger and die

and through my wicked childhood i never really understood

that to get along i had to go along - never really sang that song

instead i dragged me feet through puddles in the street

down dark alleys with strangers i'd meet

oh they were broken as well and we knew we were going to hell

i tried to hide the shame inside but the pain just couldn't lie

so i wake with demons in the night

so broken inside with no will to fight

Another Wicked Night

2005-12-16T08:02:00.000-08:00

I woke up again @ 2:30 this morning & couldn't go back to sleep. Shit! I'm in customer Service so I have to be nice to some of the dumbest and meanest SOB's on the face of the earth. This whole "waking up in the middle of the night" thing became an issue after I learned that my Mother had pasted away from cancer seven years ago (between 2:30-3:00 am).Some nights I just can't seem to get past that point. I miss you Mom (deep breath...exhale).

I guess I'll go back to bed and jerk off, and hope I can get back to sleep. Thank DOG it's friday!

"Happy Holidays & Seasons Greetings"

2005-12-15T08:47:00.000-08:00

If I had to rank my favorite "Holidays" of the year, it would look something like this:

1. Holloween - Oct 31 - I can be what ever I want for a day.
2. My Birthday - Jan 19 - One of the fews times I can demand a BJ.
3. Litha / Midsummer - June 20 (summer solstice) - A great day to call in sick!
4. Independence Day - Jul 04 - B.B.Q.
5. ...well that about sums it up.

You see, I hate Christmas. Christmas is celebrating the consumption of crap purchased at WalMart (benifiting ONLY WalMart) and has NOTHING to do with the birth of Christ, who incidently was born in June NOT December. We celebrate Christmas to benifit the bottom lines of Corporations, not the birth of christ. If one wanted to celebrate the TRUE meaning of CHRISTmas, WE would ALL have protested any un-like christ behavior, like the execution of a man seeking redemption, like Stanley Tookie Williams. What would have Jesus thought about that execution? Would he have been proud of us? Is this what he died for?

Evil is as Evil does.

2005-12-14T15:22:00.000-08:00

Salvation ( P ) Pronunciation Key (s l-v sh n)n.

- Preservation or deliverance from destruction, difficulty, or evil.
- A source, means, or cause of such preservation or deliverance.
- Deliverance from the power or penalty of sin; redemption.
- The agent or means that brings about such deliverance.

The death of Stanley "Tookie" Williams on December 13, 2005 deeply disturbs me. I am morally opposed to the Death Penalty under any circumstance. May all the "Right-To-Lifers" who called for the death of a man all learn themselves what redemption really means. May DOG have mercy on their souls.

My best friend and I were talking about what is better: A "Bad" person who does "good" deeds, or a "Good" person who does "bad" deeds. We decided we would rather hang out with a "Sinner" who attempts to go good, rather than a "Virtuous" who commits evil deeds. Because at least one who is trying to make the world a better place and slips is better than someone who hides behind a holier-than-thou persona while hurting others. Besides, you go to Heaven for the weather, but stay in Hell for the company".

Tookie, I think the world will miss the contributions you would have made, if only given the chance. YOU will be missed.