Sunday, February 14, 2010

Love fears no comets from outer space...
Love holds us as we vaporize in a violet flash
Love binds us as the shock wave rips us apart
Love covers us as the sky comes ablaze with fall out
Love warms us as the 1000 year nuclear winter sets in
Love revives us as the first flower grows again in the dim sunlight
Love fears no comets from outer space...

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

List 1

Words I'd like to use more:
- Booby Traps
- Ass Over Tea Kettle
- Serpentine
- Mr. Pussums (great name for a cat)
- Dangerpuss (great name for a superhero cat)
- Juxtaposed or conveniently adjacent to...
- gangly
- Ass-9 (even though I know it's suppose to be asinine)
- Marmasets
- Regular Pantsed (as apposed to fancy pants)
- [insert word or thing] the Hutt (like Jabba, but something funny)
- Asian Mike

Words I find myself over using:
- Dickface
- Dickhole
- Fuk You
- I can't I have to work tomorrow
- Lame
- Fuk the CTA, seriously fuk you and fuk everything about the CTA
- I will throw a beer bottle full of burning gasoline at The Duke of Perth I swear to god...
- I ran out
- Sorry

Things I see very little use for:
- Home Pizza Oven
- Quitters
- Red Carpet events, pre and post awards shows
- Simon Cowel or whatever that dickfaces name is
- Pickle forks
- Dust bunnies
- Situations or applications where a profound knowledge of farming equipment would be necessary
- the word Uber

Things I could use more of:
- Money
- Free Passes to various things of my choosing
- Back rubs
- Temperatures over 50 degrees Fahrenheit
- My cat Sylvester's face sleeping next to me
- My own Space rocket with gas card
- Days off (filled with all of the above things in this section)

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Spaghetti Finishing

Dear Spaghetti Not-Finisher,

I wish you would have been more of a Spaghetti Finisher last night and less of a Spaghetti Not-Finisher, so there would have been less Not-Finished Spaghetti today. Then I would have eaten less of this Not-Finished Spaghetti at lunch today and consequently felt considerably less full and tired. Don't get discouraged though, Spaghetti Finishing is something we've all aspired to since our childhoods, when promises of Ice Cream and The Muppets Show held more weight as a motivator for us to see the Spaghetti Finishing thru to the end...

Thank you,

Jay

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Untitled Number 3

My Angel in the Devil’s hand
Sitting quietly for the world to end
A story for all time… that I left behind
It just will not stop
Calling and calling when I’m almost asleep
In a moment I can’t seem to keep
Cross your arms before they steal your heart
Across time I’ll reach for our new start
But I’ve faded in your eyes
Like the Summer’s color dies
Your words no longer make sense
Of some untold violence
So speed things up like my demons always do
Speed things up while I swerve into you

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Chess

(pictured above: The Super Bishop)
My co-workers have been borrowing my Chess board to play at lunch a lot lately. I haven’t thought about chess in a while, every since Dimitri left I haven’t played at all (single tear runs down cheek).

It got me thinking of my childhood… In the 4th grade we were forced to learn to play chess, every single student in Mrs Garable’s Kick-Ass 4th Grade Class. (That’s what we named the class that year… well, that’s what I and my friend Steve Zyke named it at least). Each day during study time 8 children were selected to go to the back of the class and fire up a game on 1 of the classes 4 chess boards. Being that I was a kid already obsessed with war and all manors of armed conflict I took to chess with great zeal. In fact like most things I’m really into (drums, outer space, dinosaurs, beef jerky, etc.), I went over board with my affectations; drawing knights and castles all over my notebooks, mapping out strategic moves and ideas, reading books about the historical significance of the game, etc. etc.

My point is that for a short time I became overly involved in the game of chess and I waited restlessly everyday for the afternoon ‘study time’ to approach so I could get picked and play chess instead of work on my grammar and spelling words. Now I know that chess is good for the budding young mind. Chess players are known for being great problem solvers and free thinkers. Complex multi-faceted problems like: ‘2 trains leaving from the train station going different directions at different speeds with varying weight in cargo’, are a breeze for chess players. But I spent an exorbitant amount of my 4th grade life thinking and playing and thinking about playing chess, and not much else.

So I’m just going to say it… The reason I can’t spell is because I was too preoccupied with playing chess to work on my spelling words okay. There it’s out and I feel better now. Dani and Chrispy and Dan Schindler and Mandy and all my high school teachers and my sister and a whole bunch of other people who love to point out my spelling errors but I can’t remember who you are at this moment, can all just deal with that! It’s not my fault I spell like a 3rd grader, that’s as far as I got okay…

Consequently in this current atmosphere of super-hero/vampire movie pop culture, I decided to make a few much needed updates to the age old game of Chess to better reflect the concept that destroying an apposing army or foe does not necessarily require a superior force lead by a charismatic leader anymore. All you really need is some special effects and an audience that is willing to believe it. So jot these updates down and dazzle the fuk out of the next poor sap you wail on at chess this coming holiday season.

The Super Bishop – This is when you stack your bishop on top of your rook to create a Super Killing Machine. The Super Bishop moves in concentric circles, like a shock wave from a blast point, wiping out all juxtaposed pieces, both adversarial and friendly, without conscience. Think of this guy as your own personal Richard M. Nixon… carpet bombing the Viet Cong has never been seen before in the chess world until now.

The Knight Rider – You’ll need some tape or glue for this one, any household-grade adhesive will work. Tape/glue one pawn to the back of your horse like he’s the horses ‘rider’. Once you have that done this new piece moves in a full square. Like the normal L-shape that the knight usually moves but now doubling back to one square over from where he started. (So the rider can sleep at home at night, he’s not into camping and horses are smelly, who wants to sleep outside next to that thing snorting and chewing grass and stuff all night, gross). The beauty of this piece is that when you get killed you now actually have 2 lives. At the first strike, you lose your rider, then on your second strike you die for real. (As in your piece is removed from the board). Think of Yoshi in Super Mario World… when you get hit you pop out the top of Yoshi and he goes all whilly-nilly back and forth with no stirring and you have to try to catch him to get back in the saddle. Same idea, after your rider gets taken off, your horse goes buck-wild (literally, if that is what you call wild horses) and starts to take out pieces all around him until he’s either killed again by your opponent or is mercifully shot in the head by your queen.

The Snake – This requires purchasing a pack of rubber or plastic snakes from the ‘kids isle’ at Walgreens. Don’t tell your opponent about this one before you start playing. When you get a pawn across the board to your opponent’s side, instead of trading up for one of your taken pieces, you replace your pawn with a plastic snake and make a hissing sound. This means that you now get 2 moves in a row and when you bite your opponents piece that piece becomes infected with your venom and becomes one of YOUR pieces. Totally sweet! (Have a permanent marker handy as well so you can quickly color the piece to whatever color your team is). This will strike fear into the heart of your opponent and if they happen to be a mathematician from the former Soviet Union they could possibly accuse you of being KGB and swallow a cyanide pill ending the game and making an awful mess on the rug.

On a final note, gather up whatever figurines you may have around before you play your next game of chess and create an audience. (Stacks of books make great bleachers for stadium seating and a better view of the battle). Having an audience watching creates more of an urgency to do well and not make mistakes. It puts pressure on your opponent and makes them self conscious. They’ll think their intelligence is being judged by you and your collection of bobble-head Michael Jordans. Any edge is a good edge in the cutthroat world of chess.

Have fun…

Bombs away Millhouse!

Monday, November 9, 2009

Why I hate Sports and consequently High-Fives

This essay could be nearly 30 pages if I wanted it to be, but there are a few simple things that I can address to explain my stance. The fact that all American Males are suppose to be a part of an organized sports team sometime in their youth is in-in-of-itself enough of a pain in the ass for a person of my size and stature. But it’s also assumed that I should know about and follow religiously any and all competitions that may be taking place in any given season we happen to be in. The guys at my work talk about it to no end all day and I can’t stand it. I do not care about any of it, and I’d rather stick my head in an oven then listen to what that kid I can’t stand in Tech Ops thinks about some over paid gangster rapper’s potential to chew up the defense or out rebound anyone who has ever walked the Earth.

I think whole heartedly and with my deepest conviction that NASCAR is just a waste of gas. We are running out of Mesozoic Era microplankton and you diks are going in circles for 7 hours!? There is a reason you have to change your tires so many damn times; It’s because some redneck made a simple math mistake and turned yards into miles and now it takes all day to accomplish what could be done in 14 minutes: that is to tell us which guy named Dale is faster… And on one single set of tires no less! (This is exactly like the architects who screw up inches and yards and end up making tiny Stonehenge models that are in danger of being smashed by the dancing midget druids). Just leave me alone already.

Now onto Sports most coveted signature; The High-Five! The high-five is to sports what Ronnie James Dio’s Devil Horns is to metal fans. It is the identity by which to show others that you are not to be fuked with unless you are dressed in the same exact color as the person with his open hand in the air. The high-five is best used in situations where you’ve just scored and you are in fact in your house and everyone around you should know whos house they happen to be in. The same concept applies to being hammered at a bar and watching the sports team from the state you happened to be born in while they are doing the same thing. (e.g. scoring ungodly amounts of points on the other teams asses, and there by “owning” their collective asses. Not in a gay way though).

The reason I hate high-fives so much is twofold. One is that it is just simply retarded looking. The other is that it reflects on who you are as a person, which usual amounts to an upper middle class white kid who has a hair trigger temper (due to being told he was the smartest and best at everything he did his entire life from his parents, and was applied to literally everything he did from finger painting with his own boogers to crashing his dads car into the back of the garage in the 9th grade), and who’s entire outlook on life is molded around what other people should be doing for them. So pretty much acting like the kids on any MTV reality show. Most post-collage doughy sports dudes will talk of their glory days on “The Team” and about “Coach” who use to call him T-Bone or Smitty and demanded said doughy sports dude’s absolute best everyday in practice for the “Ultimate Game”… LIFE. So throwing high-fives some 3, 5, or 13 years later drunk in a bar is a way to show other doughy sports dudes that you did in fact use to “Rule” and that you are one of them. (And still currently 'Rule' at stuff now). Now this all seems harmless until a certain intoxication level makes them long for the glory days of “ruling” and can most easily be recaptured in being a total dik to anyone without an Official Champion Jersey on. That is 99% of the time me or my friends. I’ve never actually been beat up before (see my close in encounter with this under the story about Sissys). But I’ve come really close a few times and every single of them evolved high-fives in some way.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Untitled Number 2

I’ve turned myself into a monster for countless reasons… most of which seemed like a necessity at the time.