BIRTHDAYS - FUCK!

Happy birthday yesterday to dirty thirty squirty squirty thunder-ants Marigold who is SO OLD!

Here we are earlier this month as BFF's with some rotten kid that kept getting in my way:



And Happy Birthday today to my Oldest of Old Old brothers!



Myles, you are SOOOOOO OLD. You disgust me. Toilet fucker.

My life and times have been totally butchered and poisoned with arsenic by old-timey serial killers, including women.

I read every single wikipedia page about female serial killers. There were some doooozies. I guess the ladies like arsenic best for the killing. Does the job. Gets the job done. And how.

I don't think this fleeting fascination is indicative of anything. But they always say that.

I've been playing Civilization IV again. A Lot.

I'm reading a good book. That's why I started reading about female serial killers. It is called Devil in the White City and it is about H.H. Holmes and the Chicago World's Fair and other things. I recommend it.

Easter was Eastery.

Jesus rose from the dead.

My brother's birthday is the day after tomorrow and Marigold's is tomorrow. I haven't done anything for either of them.

My parent's neighbor Wayne Fiorucci died. Unexpectedly and too young. They went to his funeral this morning.

My grandma's knee is blown up like a melon and she has to have all sorts of medical things done to her. But she still doesn't have diabetes so I'm not quite sure what she has, truly, to complain about so much. Jesus.

I am cold and distant.

The back of a retard? Or not? A MYSTERY

Today at hospital job I was walking behind a slow sort of waddling white haired man down by the cafeteria. I thought maybe he was a retard. He had the build. He was lumbering. He had a square head. He was disheveled. His pants were too short. He had on retard shoes. They were all black tennis shoes with thick soles like the ones that a worker at McDonald's might wear. A retarded McDonald's worker. He had a big plastic bag of food that had two 20 oz Diet Dr Peppers and a bunch of other crap in it. I thought, "That kind of looks like the food a retard would choose." But then I had to wonder. Diet? I mean, Diet Dr. Pepper does taste a lot like regular Dr. Pepper but I found it perplexing that a retard might buy Diet. He was portly and squat and so the diet choice was warranted. For some reason I have an idea of retarded people, especially men, as being gluttonous. Or at least unashamed of being seen in public with a bunch of crappy food if they are overweight.

I never got a look at his face so we'll never know. Maybe retards do like Diet Dr. Pepper. Maybe he was just a normal old man who happened to look a little retarded from the back. IT IS A MYSTERY FOR THE AGES.

His neck was definitely down-syndromy. And his jowels. From the back, at least. This will keep me up tonight.

I feel happy today.

BEWARE

BEWAREBEWAREBEWARE BEWAREB BEWARE BEWARE
BEWARE E E E E
BEWARE W W W W
BEWARE A A AWARE A
BEWARE R R R R
BEWARE E E E E
BEWAREBEWAREBEWARE BEWARE BEWARE BEWARE

Happy birthday tomorrow, popso.

Today I watched a movie about Sylvia Plath. It reminded about how much my daddy was like hers:

I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You--

Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.

Just kidding, America.

(but my dad really is a Nazi and I really am a Jew)

Maybe good news.

http://www.dlife.com/diabetes-news/2008/03/mgh_initiates_phase_i_diabetes.html

Normally I don't get excited about this stuff. Most type 1 diabetics who've been diabetic for many years learn at some point that thinking about a cure in your lifetime doesn't really help with your day to day management. If you just accept that this is the way that your life is then I think it is easier to accept that you have to do all the shit you have to do. Every so often some news of a cure comes out. This one actually seems promising.

A certain number, like a big number, of reasons why Tao Lin is a Piece of Shit. Like a big fat Turd. Toilet droppings.

http://reader-of-depressing-books.blogspot.com/2008/03/promote-my-career-for-me.html

Promote my career for me, I'm a big fat douche bag.

Reason #Most Important: Asian. Gaysian, more likely. Asian Asian Asian. My sister recently confided in me and said that she is racist against Asians. We figured out that she is mostly just racist against the Chinese. Blech.

Extra reasons, as if you needed any:

2. Vegan or something. And TALKS about it. Incesssssantly. Ugh.

3. Sucks.

4. Is a Maniac.

I've only read his blog and his book EEEEEEEEEeeeeeee EEeeeeeEEEeee EeeeeEEEe. I read it for a creative writing class. It was forced upon me like I was being sexually abused by an Asian Vegan. It was okay. I liked the animals and the pizza delivery systems. This is what I wrote about it at the time in a response for my stupid teacher and his stupid class:

I Am Responding to Eeeee Eee Eeee. I had to count the e's. I don't know if that is important or not. I have become a little bit obsessed with Tao Lin since you made us read this book. I now read his blog all the time and I even started to read your blog after I read parts of his blog because his blog links to your blog. I've also started to read other blogs that I didn't before. I even started to comment on Tao Lin's blog and read interviews with Tao Lin, which is way further than I'd intended to go. I don't really think I'd like him much as a person because I don't really like earnest people. I think he would be offended too, if I called him earnest. But I get the heebie jeebies when I read earnest things or think about writing earnest things.

What kind of world is this that it now makes a difference whether or not I would like an author as a person? I don't know if we are better off now or worse off now that a lot of authors have blogs. I guess if they just blog fiction and don't blog about stuff they did or do then it isn't really any different but when they tell me about their wives or boyfriends or menstruation or eating habits then I'm forced to consider whether or not I like them or not. I have to say this might change my opinion about whether or not it is good to read extra stuff about authors to better understand their work. I always liked to before. Maybe now, that it has become so easy and so accessible, either with personal blogs or wikipedia or books by ex-wives like the one Charles Schulz's wife just put out, maybe now I should try to stop that habit or at least not take it so far.

About Eeeee Eee Eeee though, I liked it. I thought it was repetitive but in a difficult kind of rewarding way, not in an annoying way but rather like a joke that is repeated three times. You cross a line and then you keep crossing it until it is funny again. Mostly that's how I felt about Eeeee Eee Eeee. Although just typing that title right now for the third time wasn't funny. It was kind of hard. No one would write a long essay about Tao Lin and his novel if they had to type Eeeee Eee Eeee over and over again, especially if they had to underline or italicize it each time too. That would stop a lot of would be explicators.

I want to talk a little bit about the bear. The whole book reminded me of the movie Donnie Darko. This is a great movie but it is the quintessential emo type of movie and I mean that in a derisive way. For example, when I read a blurb on a book called "Miss Misery" in the SOU bookstore that said, "This is the emo Fight Club," I thought, "that is ridiculous." But I love the movie Donnie Darko despite its quintessential emo-ness. He has sort of imaginary things that he talks to, specifically that skeleton bunny man thing and also he has some weird thing come out of his stomach that tells him what to do or represents predetermination or something and it looks like the bad terminator in Terminator 2 or 3, I forget which one. So I think this bear, and the dolphins and stuff are just kind of like the bunny skeleton man named Frank. I read that Frank is aware of the future and destiny of Donnie Darko. Perhaps the bear and the dolphins and hamsters are like totems and guides.

Perhaps the bear is to Andrew what Russia was to the United States in 1984 like Ronald Reagan's ad "There is a bear in the woods. For some people the bear is easy to see. Others don't see it at all. Some people say the bear is tame. Others say it's vicious and dangerous. Since no one can really be sure who is right, isn't it smart to be as strong as the bear? If there is a bear...."

I think I am right about everything.

So fuck off. I do like assignments though. I wish people would give me more assignments.

The News. Nudes? News.

I got a new job. Wooooooooo hooooooooo. I think it is going to be pretty sweet, dudes. I get paid more, I get more hours and I work regular hours. I think I'm gonna like it, queers.

I don't care about Bret Favre. I thought he died of football 8 years ago.

I don't care about Marion Jones going to jail. If I was her cellmate, however, I'd say "Not much room to run away in here, is there, bitch?" And then I'd ask her if she'd like to play some cribbage or gab about boys.

I like the new Russian puppresident's name. I said it aloud in my care probably, oh I don't know, 15 times today.

I think I'm really going to like Hulu.com. For instance, you can watch all the Arrested Development episodes forever and ever. I watched this just now: http://www.hulu.com/watch/589/arrested-development-pilot. You do have to watch commercials but at least I didn't spend a million dollars buying the DVDs. There are a shit load of shows to watch too. So go to town, mindless droves.

I got a new job.

I forgot my picture camera thingy pluggy wugg so no new pictures yet.

Tomorrow, most likely as not.

Or not.

Don't harsh my buzz so much.

Tomorrow I have to go to Cancer School. We're learning how to take care of the cancer we're going to get. And there's going to be a guest speaker.

Patrick Swayze.

Guest Post, Scratching Post, "The Post," Post Cereal, Post Haste, aPOSTle, Puss

I won a contest and now I have a guest post on the blog of this dirty Englishman supposedly named "Frank Morgan."

You can read it here:

http://frankmorgan.blogspot.com/

Also, I added a link to his blog on my Snossage Slinks so that you can keep up with him and make him feel better about his sad and pathetic existence.

Do they still make Sucrets? Secrets.

The secret was that I was going to surprise some of my friends while I am still stuck down here in California, USA. And I did! And it was good. I shocked the shit out of their assholes like so many shit-shocked kids at a water slide park. I shocked the shit out of their assholes like Huckleberry in Steve and Marigold's bed this morning. Suffice to say, I murdered each of them, in cold blood, and then ate all their food at the barbecue they were having. And then I leisurely read a magazine. There was a fluff piece about how great that fuck William F. Buckley was. News Flash! Just because someone was charming and smart doesn't make him some kind of great dude when he was just a big fat conservative douche-nozzle. News Flash ended.



I've had the best time ever during this trip. I've loved, I've laughed, I've come close to death, I've realized the power of my eternal spirit, I've gotten some good deals on merchandise, I've rolled with the punches, I've punched the homeless, I've been sodomized, I've sodomized. A very well rounded trip. Tomorrow I make the long trek home to Oregon and damned if I can't wait to sit around in my own filth, sleep all day, get nowhere, and continue down a path of absolute and terrifying blandness. Viva Inertia!



Soon there will be multitudinous photos up on my flickr page. Until then, enjoy this, jock-itch;

Binary-Canary-Bicameral-Braceyourself.

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Who the Mother-Cock is KK Downey?

I am in love with a movie. I am in love with a movie. I am in love with a movie. Go Canananananananada!

Who is KK Downey?



I saw this movie tonight. It totally ruled. I got to ask a question. I got to take a picture of a couple of the actors/director/writer type people. I think they are the new big thing and attention should be paid.

Attention should be paid.

If you are in the San Jose area or even in the vicinity, go see one of the other screenings of this film on Saturday at 7:15 or Sunday at 3pm. In fact, if you go on Saturday and if you hate it after 30 minutes you can go see my brother-in-law's film Around the Bay at 7:45. Either way, you win!

Here is more info on the film festival if you want details.

http://cinequest.org/indexCQ.php

K.K. Downey could turn into the seminal satire of the aughts. We are all such hipster douchebags. It has only taken until 2008 to really get a good perspective on this douchebaggery. And it probably had to come from Canada.

Thanks for the good times, young Canadian filmmakers.

Backwards Itinerary

Today:

write something in my blog
surf the internet looking at nothing for 2 hours
pay very little attention to some t.v.
google talk with Justin
google talk with Marigold
get lost driving around
go see a movie called "Three Priests" (http://www.gumspirits.com/threepriests.html)and be pretty amazed. Olivia Hussey is the beautifullest. Michael Parks is better than Tommy Lee Jones. Or anybody else. Ever Good stuff
Get hopped up on goofballs
park in a big garage
play with children
eat scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast
play with children
sleep comfortably on sister's couch

Yesterday:
look at stuff on the internet for a while
vaguely watch television
speak with Bro-in-law
play with children
eat a sandwich
talk to parents
play with children
Watch a great documentary called Sputnik Mania (http://www.sputnikmania.com/) Be amazed by history and Eisenhower. I like Ike. I like Ruskies. I like sputnik. I like documentaries.
I hate killing poor Innocent doggy doggs by sending them out in space with no oxygen.
Rest
Go to a baby baby Asher's 1st birthday party at Chuck E. Cheeses. Play my favorite basketball shooting game and win lots of tickets. Beat my dad twice at basketball shooting game, my sister once, my mother once and my brother-in-law once. Eat cake. Get ass handed to myself by basketball playing father of babypartygoer. 57 points to 44 points. Take lots of pictures. Rock and Roll.
Go to Santana Row with Father. Chit chat, eat fruit salad/madeline. By pure chance run into Brother-in-law and friend, Ali Allie (My new best friend next to my other new best friend Sammie), go to Borders and Anthropologie.
Take a shower.
Email people.
Wake up.

The Day Before Yesterday:
Come home very late at night and sleep for a few too short hours.
Hang out at sister's house with brother in law and alli allie having long discussions about very important topics and making fun of movies.
Go to after party for Tenacious D documentary called D Tour (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D_Tour:_A_Tenacious_Documentary) Get High Fived by Kyle Gass. Totally shit my pants. Rock and Roll the night away.
Go see D Tour. Get totally rocked. Have strong feelings. Be happy. Glow. Ask Kyle Gass a question at the Q&A. Feel awesome.
Wait in line to see D Tour.

I can't remember what happened after that exactly except that we saw a really bad movie called El Camino that I HATED and we hung out with Sammie Samuelson (that is her real name) and we probably ate at some point. And on Saturday night was the world premier of my Brother-in law's film Around the Bay (http://www.aroundthebaymovie.com/) which I really really liked. There was a great after party for that and I got to meet the actors who were really neat and drink white wine and go to the after after party at the fancy hotel. It was TOTALLY AWESOME, dudes. It rewled. It was more splendid than words can say. And I've met really nice people like Sammie and her wonderful husband Michael and Ali and my sister's in-laws and some of my sister's coworkers and a very nice and funny lady also named Amanda and I can't remember who else. And I've been playing with my wonderful wee darling little niece and wee darling little nephew and there is nothing better than that in the world.

Also, you are most likely contracting a VD right now.

OH, and double P.S. pictures are on my flickr. http://www.flickr.com/photos/diapantsies

Chuck E. Cheeeeeeses is the tops.

Now go abuse yourself.

I met Cliff Claven and you fucking suck

So I am way better than you.

Yesterday I drove all the way to San Jose.

Yeah, I do know the way, fucktard.

Then I saw some movies at this film festival. I saw a Japanese (japanoodle Will Evans would like it) silent film called "I was born, but..." The title makes no sense to me. I've tried to understand it by looking things up but it makes no sense.

These two boys were really funny and it was a lot of fun to watch.

Here is a weird site that talks about the film

http://www.ozuyasujiro.com/resources/90thanniv/90thanniv.htm#iwasbornbut

Then I saw a movie from Belgium that was in Flemish called A Perfect Match. It was delightful. The main actor is some sort of "monument" in Belgium. (The director did a Q&A afterwards and was referring to him as a monument but none of us stupid Americans had any idea of who he was) I'd never seen him but he was great. He reminded me of Albert Finney or Brian Cox. It was good. Here is a site about it.

http://manzktvrouw.belbone.be/home.php

Good luck with that. I think it is written in Flemish. Here is the main actor, Jan Decleir's, wikipedia page:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jan_Decleir

And the highlight of the day, if not the trip, if not MY ENTIRE LIFE was this:

Yes.

As in, "Excuse me, Mr. Ratzenberger, but I'm a big fan and was hoping to get a picture of you."

as in, "Sure, in fact, why don't we get someone to take a picture of both us."

as in, "Why, here is a funny Asian man in a brown tuxedo and sparkles and fancy shoes with spats who has been greeting people in front of the door to the movie theater for the festival. Perhaps he will take our picture."

as in, "Let me put my arm around you, sweet cakes. Candy Ass"

as in ,"Alrighty, Mr. Ratzenberger. Here's my number. My phone number and my room number."

as in, "You are a bad girl."

as in, "That's right Cliff Claven. Or should I call you Cliff Craven."

as in, "You can call me NORM!"

as in,, "I will. I will."


You really shouldn't be so jealous of me all the time.