Thursday, December 15, 2005

Christmas is coming, my inner child is crying

We have no Christmas tree. I miss my childhood. I'm scared please someone hold me. Every Christmas from now on is going to be a reminder of how I'm no longer a kid and the magic is gone. Santa isn't real. Decorating a tree isn't fun. The magic is gone.

I went to Toys R Us the other day and bawled in a fetal position. I latched onto an stuffed Garfield and cried for innocence lost. The best days of our lives are gone, if only we were wise enough to know it back then. Funny how it works when you're young.

Now everything is get a job this, goto school that, stop sleeping with stuffed animals. Nothing is as it was and the nostalgia creeps in. Ironically during the most joyful time of the year, because nothing can hold the eggnog to the way it was when we were young. Back when happiness wasn't so fleeting and I didn't want to sock people who whistled in the face.

So as Christmas draws near I wrote a little poem to describe my feelings:

Oh Christmas
How could you do this to me?
Oh Christmas
You're supposed to be fun but you bring me pain
Oh Christmas
Instead of presents you bring me pain
Oh Christmas
The ferns of the Christmas tree tear into my soul
Oh Christmas
Like fragrant needles of destruction
Oh Christmas
Ripping at my soul

Oh Christmas (x4)

I'm becoming a Jew.
- Christmas

Sunday, December 11, 2005

Where'd you get that preposterous hypothesis?

" go fuck urself"


So apparently my suicide post wasn't the greatest of hits. It's okay, i wasn't shooting for the stars. I've just always thought that sometimes the best way to point out the absurdity of something is to joke about it. Okay, maybe joking about suicide is a bit taboo. Taboo is a pretty faggish word anyways. Taboo. Taboooo. If the word personified itself it'd be wearing leather chaps and hanging out at Rage in West Hollywood.

West Hollywood is where all the gays hang out, for those of you who are LA clueless.

I'm drunk right now. I was just thinking earlier about how desperate I've been to get laid I've been contemplating scoring a fat chic. For the record, I can hold my own so the thought of doing a fat chic never really crossed my mind. I have a fast metabolism so I'm pretty fit myself. But sometimes we all have to take the easy route. Sometimes we all have to do what is tried and true. There isn't a fat chic on this planet who would reject me. So why not. Really tho. Why not.

As long as she doesn't wake up next to me with her cankles all rubbin up against my legs. Or worse yet, I wake up and she's downstairs cooking me bacon and eggs and calling me sweetie. Oh god I'd shoot myself.

I went to this party right smack in the ghetto today and I was really wondering, why is it that poor people are typically ugly but rich people are hot? There is an undeniable correlation. I don't get it. If I'm driving towards the ghetto I'm not expecting to see a bunch of hot people walking the sidewalk but if I'm going to Beverly Hills I do. But what the fuck is the difference? Location and social status I suppose, but what do those two things have to do with someone's good looks? Why are poor people typically ugly? It can't just be because they work harder than most. If you really think about it, it's just mindblowingly arbitrary.

My best explaination is that good looks are indicative of good genes, so rich people aren't good looking because they're rich but rather because they have better genes and are most likely smarter. But then again there's alot of stupid hot people and genius ugly people so I guess you could call my hypothesis preposterous. I think I'm on the right track though.

Anyways, I'm gonna goto bed. Hopefully I don't pee anything special. Goodnight.

Monday, December 05, 2005

Death Kills

Suicide is an innate human right. But with all the ways to kill oneself, it may be hard knowing which to choose. So I've compiled a cursory little list of popular ways to die, because its fun to think about sometimes.

The Good Ole' Fashioned Noose - I've often wondered why people choose this method. Anyone who's dove too deep under water, or been forcefully strangled during sex will know that suffocation is an utterly intolerable feeling. It's up there with being engulfed in flames. However, this option still contends for being so convenient, as most individuals carry rope in their homes or live close to a Home Depot. Regardless, the process of asphyxiation makes this suicide option none too ideal. Unless you like that kind of shit ya kinky freak.

The Super-powerless Superman - Anyone who's gone skydiving before will tell you - boy oh boy, flying through the air is exhilarating! The powerless superman method is ideal for anyone who's dreamt of being able to fly when they were young but were wise enough to know they couldn't. The quick and painless death, combined with the last few seconds of adrenaline pumping descent makes this option a true contestant with its dukes up. The downfall, no pun intended, would have to be the posthumous and all too public mess. But what does it matter when you're dead. Right?

This Gilette Ain't for Shavin' - Cut your life line, so to speak, this is a fairly tranquil way to die. The victim loses consciousness then slowly passes away. Sitting in a tub of warm water may also help facilitate the blood loss. However, there have been multiple reports of failed attempts using this method so it earns a low consistency rating. Also, if you are a male and attempting this method in a tub, I suggest wearing some sort of garment, as bloodloss and death may shrink the penis.

The Itchy Trigger Finger - Straight for the brain, another pragmatic way to die. Fast, easy, and relatively clean. Unfortunately, not everybody owns a gun, and obtaining one can take some time. By the time one is finally obtained, the suicidal individual may no longer be suicidal, so this would be nothing to his cause. There must be some sleeping pills nearby...

Sleeping Pills? More like Sleeping Kills! - I've eaten bad Sushi before. This method sucks.

So there you have it. A cursory examination of popular ways to kill yourself. I'd like to state now that the author does not condone suicide, nor has he ever been suicidal himself. He loves life and encourages you all to do the same. So ladies, if you're ever feeling down and out, just give me a call, I'm here for you, and I will clean your pipes. And to the fellas... eat some carrots and drink some ginseng or something. You'll get over it.