old people smell bad

holy crap what kick ass day, you would never believe it.

i had just finished my mayonaise flavored slimfast shake and two diet cigarettes (yes, i am on a health kick) when i got a knock on the door. it was the guy from down the street. i could tell he had just finished working out cause his eyelids, which are more muscular than your average joe's, had a light sheen of sweat and were still ripped and pumped. he needed help.

see, i am like the encyclopedia brown of my neighborhood, people come to me to help them with thier problems like i'm scooby fucking doo, but i can't say no to them, i'm just not that kind of guy.

so this guy needed my help. now, usually when a guy comes to me for help, it's either to help them defend themself against an angry mob armed with pitchforks and torches, or they are being scared off thier land by what appears to be some kind of ghost, or other odd jobs that only i, with my varied and rare talents, am able to handle. one time, this dude asked me if i would be a "present" for his adopted asian twins on thier 21's birthday, which sounded like a sweet gig. turns out they were brothers, so that wasn't really a high moment for me, but a job's a job, heh?

well, this guy needed me to recover some "personal property" of his, and i do honor my clients privacy, so i won't go into details, but let me say this...knowing i am an expert in colonial furniture *AND* a master of the pan flute, it's no surprise he came to me. he dropped the 35 cents in my jar (my going rate) and i was on the case.

no sooner had i stepped outside my secretly fortified clubhouse/home/rented out garage and turned the corner when*WACK* i was run over by what felt like dumptruck on cocaine. after a few dazed seconds that anyone at burning man would have been fond of, i heard a voice...a voice of an angel. "how's your head?" it inquired of me. i looked up and saw a beautiful brunette lass, about my height, with shoulder length hair and cerulean eyes and a cute accent. "well," i said in my coolest voice, " i haven't had any complaints yet...are you free for lunch?"

as she helped me to me feet, she introduced herself as Monica Crumbcake, and it was her kangaroo that ran me over. she was from australia, and said things like "g'day" , "no worries" and "crikey" and kept offering me "vegemite" and asking if i heard the latest midnight oil cd, cause those are sterotypical things an australian might say in a movie by someone who doesn't know crap about australians, and that is how i am going to write this story so don't get all upset with me cause you don't really talk like that (i'm talking to you, australians).

monica explained that it was important we get the kangaroo back because this roo was actually hundreds of years old and is very special. this roo has a microchip implanted in it's tail, and on that chip is a map to a hidden temple where they keep "the book of all knowledge" which is a huge book of the true history of this world and has all the answers to all the secrets of the universe, including what the hell is *really* in an orange julius and where the white goes when the snow melts. the reason that kangaroo has it is every few hundreds of years, the microchip (yes, the microchip is thousands of years old, i mean, it was made by the creator(s) of the universe, if they can make a universe, they can make a damn microchip. duh!) it is transferred to a special animal, always different, who keeps it for a few hundred years, along with one human who has to guard the animal. it exists hidden until mankind can get thier shit together and prove that they can handle the truth about everything.

so we track down the kangaroo and monica was so happy and impressed with me, she invited me up to her apartment and we had crazy sex, right there in front of the kangaroo, which was cool cause i've never done it with a hot looking 300 year old chick from australia while her kangaroo watched.

but anyway, after all that crap happened, i finally got the complete star wars set on dvd, so it turned out to be an awesome day. KICK ASS!

quiche recipe for teens

the following is an excerpt from "you don't need your parents, they are annoying idiots: a cookbook for teens" ....

prehat the oven to 350 degrees. it sucks that you have to do this now because it takes so damn long to heat up. god, you could be doing something way better right now....anyway....

chop up and fry some onions in butter or olive oil until they are soft and see through (like that jerks who lie to you all the time), then put them aside, ignore them, the way your parents ignore your needs. they don't listen or understand anyway.

beat four eggs like you would beat your damn teacher who always gets on your case and plays favorites with the "popular" kids. add one cup of milk, or half and half, either way it doesn't matter. nothing matters. mix into the eggs with hate and rage and salt and pepper, and other herbs if you want to like dill (haha, dill weed! or basil...fuck, put what you want in there).

get some cheese, chedder or mozzerrella. shred it like your boyfriend/girlfriend shredded your heart by dumping you and being a total prick/bitch. remember the onions? (at least you didnt forget them like your parents forgot your birthday that one time. GOD!) check to make sure they are cold like the heartless fuck who dumped you (you don't want them cooking the egg and fucking everything up like all the idiots in your life you fuck up everything). add the onions and the cheese to the egg/milk and stir it around, mix it up like a mosh pit, yeah!

pour the mixture into a ready made pie crust that you buy in the frozen food section because you are a slave to the corporate overlords who don't give a fuck about the little man and would sell their grandmother for a science experiment to make a quick buck. fuck them! but get the pie crust first.

if you want to add things like mushrooms, bean sprouts, spinach, other cheeses, go ahead, do whatever the fuck you feel like...you know what you like and don't have to listen to anyone tell you how to make your quiche...whatever....

bake the whole damn thing for one hour while you chat on the internet with your friends or download some music or put songs on your ipod. do what you feel like, the world is unfair anyway....

it's ready.  eat it, or don't.  whatever.

email to chaos and pain

hey fucko,

i don't know what kind of shit you are trying to pull over at Chaos and pain , but i have some problems with you.

first off, i want my money back.  i ordered one of your "hooligan" shirts, and it doesn't work.  the picture on your blog clearly implies that shirt will make me look jacked and buffed, but it doesn't.  i just look like a fat guy with small fat arms in a t-shirt.   also, i wore it to the gym, and it didn't do shit, it's broke or something.  it was supposed to make me stronger and help me lift huge weight.  WRONG! i nearly killed myself trying to bench almost 140 lbs.   either way, it doesn't work, it was false advertising, and i want my goddamn money back.

second, in one of your posts, you talk about eating five pounds of chicken wings for breakfast.  what the fuck kind of advice is that?  not only did all i get is a huge stomach ache, you motherfucker, you should be glad i don't sue your ass for punitive damages to cover the cost of repairs i had to do to my toilet, not to mention the mental and physical trauma of shitting five fucking pounds of chicken wings with hot sauce, you son of a bitch.  much like your broken fucked up "hooligan" shirt, eating those five pounds of chicken wings didn't do shit to help me lift and din't make me stronger.  again i almost killed myself trying to put up more weight than i'm used to, and i think you are just full of shit.

i think you are an asshole, and i swear i'm gonna stop reading your stupid blog.  please return my money, and fuck you, i'm keeping your broken shitty shirt.*


*in the unlikely event anyone actually reads this, this is a joke.

my girlfriend (who actually did buy the shirt, it's pretty fucking sweet and now i want one) and I were joking one day how the shirt didn't make her any stronger at the gym, and we joked about how i should write a bunch of letters complaining how the shirt didn't make me look like the pic on the blog and how i'm not getting any stronger and how i want my money back for the shirt that didn't work.  Jamie, the guy who writes the blog, would be confused and all "who is this guy? he didn't even buy a shirt?" and it would be sort of funny to keep sending him angry emails, apparently from some dumb out of shape fat guy who doesn't understand working out, about the things he writes.    also, i think it would be funny to start each email with "hey fucko."  it's not gonna happen, so i just wrote two of the letters and combined them here.  it would have been fun to do though, i think, as long as i entertained Jamie and didn't piss him off.

movie review: premium rush

holy crap i'm tired.  been up since 5:30 this morning to go to the gym, only to find out the gym is closed for labor day.  fuck me.  i am hoping to go tomorrow morning and throw weights around like i planned on doing today.

went to work, it was slow but we had a pretty kick ass time.

then this evening i went and saw premium rush, starring seven time Grammy award winner and human Muppet Joe Gordon Levitt, and co-starring a fixed gear bike.

i ride a fixed gear bike, no brakes and all that.  i love it.  it's fun, and i think it makes me a better cyclist.  it definitely makes me stronger, no coasting, my legs have to constantly peddle, and so when i'm on my other bikes and my legs are tired, they are used to peddling and they keep on moving.   riding a fixed gear isn't for everyone, but it's a hell of a lot of fun and it's different, you are way more aware of what is going on and what your bike is doing.

so, the movie is about a bike messenger who has to deliver an important letter for a chinese chick.

speaking of chinese chicks.....i think asian women are really pretty, and i wonder if, in asia, guys hanging out drinking and talking boast to their friends "dude, my girlfriend is asian, she is soooo hot!  and she makes me asian food, it's so delicious and authentic!" i love asian food.  in china do they call it chinese food, or just food?

i love Chinese food, especially fried rice, which is super easy to make and awesome.  left over rice from the fridge works best.  you just chop up some onioins, garlic, and and ginger, maybe a carrot if you have one, and fry it in a wok or pan with super high heat and a good bit of vegetable oil.  then add rice and fry it up,  then add a tablespoon of sugar and two table spoons of shao shing wine (get it at any asian grocery, or use sherry) and cook for 30 seconds, then add oyster sauce and mix it all up and BAM, you are done.  add some soy sauce if you want, but not too much or it gets too salty.  of course you can add mushrooms or diced meat or fish or whatever, as well as peas or broccoli etc.  it's really free form and is fun.

if you think about it, it's amazing how much china has permeated american culture.  there is the obvious, such as kung fu and kung fu movies, Bruce Lee, chinese food, feng shui, it's hip to be buddhist, it's super hip to want to free tibet from china by listening to the Beastie Boys and going to concerts and buying t shirts and bumper stickers, people have chinese symbols tattooed on them, and there is a slew of dumb ass "Confucius says" jokes (confucius say "man who constipated does not give a crap!" ).  there is a lot more Chinese influence in the states i'm sure, all thanks to the chinese.

one thing i don't get is...where the hell do the chinese people come from?   if adam and eve were the first people, and everyone came from them...how did we get chinese people?  unless one of them were chinese....

thinking about it though, it's a good thing adam an eve fucked up and got kicked out of the garden of eden.  ok, it was supposed to be paradise, but they didn't have snowboarding, they didn't have chinese food, they didn't have soooo many awesome wonderful things we take for granted every day. doesn't really sound like paradise to me. if they were in paradise, all blissed out, they wouldn't need to come up with things to entertain themselves and distract them from crappy boring lives, no need to escape, so no booze, no music, no artistic expression.

think about it....all really really great art; poetry, music, painting, all come from pain and a need to express inner angst and turmoil.  they wouldn't have needed any of that in the garden of eden.  so, no stories, no jokes, no books, no movies.

oh, yeah, so, the movie.  it sucked.

i'm tired and going to sleep.  three days, no alcohol.  i'm killing it!