Monday, November 2, 2009

There's Something You Should Know About My Socks

I've decided that I should post again, after a long holiday of looking at random shit on the web.
Good lord, there's a lot of stuff out on the net if you look around. Like ghost stories, new ways to fire chicklets at potato heads, and plenty of pictures of ugly wars.
Ugly wars! Heaven sakes! The great thing about cyberville is that you can go around and poke fun at people from different countries by making fun of your own country.
I've noticed that the best way to become friends with someone from another country is to cut your own country up.
It's true.
If you want street cred with another culture, the first thing you need to do is make fun of your own culture.
This is first.
I dated a Canadian for a long time and this one time her friends came down and I started ripping on American foreign policy. Then they started ripping on it. And ripping on it. And ripping on it. And pretty soon I felt sorry for bashing Republicans and started spouting such moronic dribble as "If it wasn't for the USA, you'd be speaking Russian!"
It's really sad. Apparently, you don't really give a shit about your country until someone starts ripping on it.
It's like if you went to a party and you said "Yeah, I've been putting on some weight."
And then someone said "Holy shit! Yes you have!"
Immediately, you'd be pissed, even though you were the one who brought it up.
Just more studies in character and hypocrisy, really.
Where were we?
Oh, yes. The Internets.
There's a wide world out there. Lots of humble folks with interesting sites.
I think the most redeemable quality in bloggers is when they don't try to give of themselves, but rather give from the Internet as a whole.
I've mentioned Cynical C and it's quite refreshing to read a blog where the guy just puts out links for people to use, rather than posting his opinions and dumb jokes for his own self esteem.
"Yeah, you're right, you do think you're rather funny - but you're not and if this is a way to make yourself feel better about yourself you need to find another reader. You suck, Matt."
Anyway, I'll be in Chicago over Labor Day weekend if anyone is interested in meeting up with a total stranger.
I like Chicago. I wish I could find a job there.
What else?
How about that hurricane? I mean how about that hurricane?
I felt I needed to ask you, loyal reader, twice.
Can you imagine being stuck in the Superdome with a bunch of people that are as broke and desperate as you are?
Good lord! I would burn my money before I let another degenerate like me take it.
Good news!!! I got another credit card.
I keep buying useless shit from Crate and Barrel. I'm like the one guy in Fight Club.
I thought about committing suicide over the weekend - not because I'm depressed, but because I feel it's an art that hasn't been fully explored yet.
I decided that a cool way to off myself would be to buy a bunch of cheeseburgers from McDonald's and rip them all up and put them back in the bag. Then, I would walk to the piers and dump the bag on myself and wait for pigeons. The pigeons would get a taste for hamburger and Eternity cologne and keep coming back for more until they devoured my entire body. No one would be mad at me. Everyone would miss me, but they'd be proud that I found a creative way to exterminate myself.
But, then there's that whole chance of hell thing, so I decided to just stab myself fifty times in the back.
But, I kid.
No, suicide is not funny and shouldn't be attempted by anyone other than a really good bluesman.
How about that MTV music awards?
I really find it depressing that white, male, effeminate keyboardists no longer have a place in the hearts and minds of the teenage and retarded.
I witnessed the preshow and decided that all the flavors of mankind have finally come together in the celebration of the material.
For so long we've looked on the minorities of this country to find some spiritual side in life that us white folks have been missing...all to find out that they're as clueless as us.
Good lord! It was like a bunch of slimy Wallstreet people from 1988 mixed with some bad blacksploitation flick! Finally, MLK's dream has been realized: we are now all equal in material pursuits of flesh and dollar bills.
I haven't been that disgusted since Scott Peterson showed up to his double baby/mother homicide wearing Maxim hair bleach for men.
Speaking of Maxim: if you have a subscription you should be shot.
If you high five your white buddies and toss off to half naked pics of Jessica Alba and try to build a shed out of McGyver tools, you are probably a closet homo.
Real men go for real porn.
I know this because I met a real man once. He was really cool and commented on the back issues of Maxim I have lying around my bathroom.
I took up jogging.

If you read this blog regularly, you should know the above statement was both the joke and the punchline.
So, why don't they make the whole plane out of the black box?
Did you know that after 911, Bush's nickname for Condoleeza Rice was "Black Box?"
I'm going to hell.
I have to think of a joke about white people quick to make up for it.
Have you ever noticed how white people are always buying Ziplock bags?
I mean, have you noticed?
"Yeah, I have. Man, white people are the worst!"


No comments: