Pockets

Both my pockets have 
holes in the bottom
-- drainage for loose change --
that are big enough
to stick my finger through.
This makes them only useful
to protect my hands against
the biting September air.

ATTN: Kid on the Stairs

Just because you're foreign doesn't mean you have to be stinky.

The Cody Monster

behind the bed
	under
	in
	on
the shaggerous
shadow of a tiger
	waits
	watches
while the
tivelless child
plays content
	smiles
	laughs
until unexpected
	exploding
from the dark
claws scrape
	walls
	pillows
	sheets
teeth wrend
	hair
	fingers
	limbs
the cody monster
with ruthless
fangarity
	crushes
	devours
its idontic prey

Thomas

I used to play with the towel-head and the chink from down the street. Jerry didn’t really wear a towel-on his head, but that’s what he was. I think he said his family was from Pakistan or something. And Sing-song – that was as close as we could come to pronouncing his name – even though his parents were from Korea he didn’t talk funny at all. He talked really good for a chink. In fact, if you talked to him on the phone you might have thought he was a regular person. Both Jerry and Sing-song talked just as good as anybody else.

So, I always used to hang out with them – ride our bikes and pick on the younger kids mostly – because they were the only guys the same age as me on my block. Well, Sing-song and me were the same age, Jerry was a grade above us in school, but besides us, the only other guy on the block was Thomas, the retarded kid.

Sometimes we used to wait at the bus stop until Thomas got off the short bus and we’d pick on him for a while. We weren’t really that mean or nothing; we didn’t hurt him. We’d just ask him dumb questions and he didn’t know no better, so he’d always answer them funny and we’d all get a big kick out of it. Even Thomas most times. I think in his head we were all best friends, which I guess was kind of true, seeing as we were the only people that talked to him, besides his family. After we were done picking on Thomas every day, we’d always take him home, mostly so Jerry could see if Claire was home.

Read on -->

On the Merits of Cigarettes

"And that's what smoking is. It's twenty little conversation-starters in a box."

--Jay

Soulmate

I want to fall in love with the most boring girl in the world.

The Face or the Body?

"In the end, if I had to choose between a girl with nice face and mediocre body or a girl with a mediocre face but nice body, I'd have to prioritize the face. Butts get big, boobs sag, but you'll always have that pretty face to look at."

--natenichols.net

See Jane Leave

One of my favorite blogs, Escribitionist, is no more.

Let's all have a moment of silence in memory of its author, Jane Irony Doe.

Goodbye, Jane. I'll miss you.

Self-Motivation

Hey, what's up, Apathy. Did you see where Motivation went?

How True

"It seems like it's always fucking Tuesday."
--Tim

Pimple

I'm waging war with a pimple the size of Minneapolis on my chin. I'm sad to say that it's winning.

The Interview Game Continued, Part II: The Sequel: Interview with a Vengeance

Interview Game

Interview of StellarMel:
1. Who is the most influential person in your life?
2. If you could live in any city in the world, where would you live?
3. What one thing do you find most attractive about the opposite sex?
4. What is the most devious thing you've ever done?
5. What is your quest? your favorite color? the airspeed velocity of a laden swallow?

Black Friends Don't Let White Friends Wear Cornrows

Please, white-guys-with-cornrows, just stop it already. What's next, do-wrags?

The Interview Game Continued

Interview of Miss Madness:
1. What is your favorite season of the year and why?
2. When and why was the last time you cried?
3. What is your favorite guilty pleasure?
4. Describe the attributes your ideal soulmate must possess.
5. What are your worst vice and best asset?

ATTN: Fat-headed Asian Chick

Stop staring at me.

The Interview Game

First things first, here are the rules of the Interview Game:

1. Leave a comment or send me an email, saying you want to be interviewed.
2. I will respond; I'll ask you five questions.
3. You'll update your website with my five questions, and your five answers.
4. You'll include this explanation.
5. You'll ask other people five questions when they want to be interviewed.

Gimmy of Gimcracker asked me the following five questions:

1. What do you love most about women?
I enjoy how most of them can make a big deal about even the most trivial of things. It brings excitement into my usually boring life.

2. Describe your worst habits.
I have a bad habit of looking at the ground when I'm talking to people I don't know very well, and boy do I slouch. Also, I'm not sure if this is a "bad habit," but people tell me I don't smile enough.

3. What's the best moment you've ever experienced?
It's funny how, when I'm trying to think of all the best moments I've experienced, only the worst ones come to mind. I guess that's why I'm "cynical" McBastard, huh?

4. Boxers or briefs?
Actually, both. A couple years ago I started wearing boxer-briefs, and I've never gone back. I used to wear briefs, but I thought they were too constricting. And boxers, well, I felt like I might as well have been free-balling. The genious of boxer-briefs is the marriage of the comfort and freedom of boxers with the support of tightie-whities. It's so simple, it makes me wonder why they didn't come up with them hundreds of years ago. Did people even wear underwear hundreds of years ago?

5. Describe a technological innovation you hope will be commonplace in 30 years.
I would like to see Aritificial Intelligence developed to the point where computers could actually think and learn for themselves. That or a George Foreman Grill that not only cooks your burgers and warms the buns, but does your taxes while you wait.

Not Expecting What I Deserve

Blogger is harder to operate when intoxicated.

Where did they go?

Foreign oblivious.

It's like a poem.

Talking on the stairs.

"You can't see all my piercings"

Secrets, secrtes are no fun . . .

Lonely, in all the wrong places.

The best things in life are out of reach.

Barefoot

One last thing.

I just kinda left.

I Hope I Get a Chance to Use This Soon

"Could you be any more slow, fat, and in my way?"

Birthday Boy

For Tom's birthday last night, I helped get him piss-ass drunk.

Too bad it was me who threw up instead of him.