Ugly Disaster Memories

Night Write

"I threw it across the garage."

- Kim on my new computer.

Let's try to start this off with something other than the word "Lord."
Yes, I am writing to you from last night. Kim was kind enough to let me use her old computer to....and I've just realized that Notepad doesn't...wait, fixed it.
Notepad wasn't word wrapping for me....luckily....
So, I am writing on Windows Notepad for a series of reasons, and there's no point in documenting them here.
Basically, I'm without spellcheck, so I will have to edit this tomorrow, which really sucks. Even though I'm paid to edit things, doesn't mean I like it.
The whole idea of actually writing free from the prying eyes of my coworkers is quite liberating.
Example: COCKSUCKER MOTHER FUCKER SHIT PISS FUCK SHIT PISS.
I suppose that's juvenile, but it's late: 1.00 am.
Its an ugly hour to be writing. I'm on the end of a bender of coke that would make the Pope wake up and take notice that he's worthless.
Sorry, I understand that the Pope is....wait, no I'm not sorry, the Pope is worthless.
No, that's not true. He's got his heart in the right...no, that's not true...he's not even awake.
Oh, well. What's to be expected when you sit on an ivory throne and throw Psalms out to the poor.
Never understood the worship of the Pope, but I'm a heathen and deserve damnation for my sins.
Another line and another line.
Well, I must say, Kim, this is a dazzling computer, and the whole idea of writing while under the influence, rather than coming off the influence, is rather breathtaking.

No, it's not one in the morning and I'm not on coke. More like Pepsi, but I'm FEELING IT anyway.
"Drugs are for kids," Alain Jourgenson coined that phrase and when I look back on my drug years, I understand.
I beg you all to discontinue reading this blog.
YES! I mean it. Go to Kim or Nate's blog. I would CLICK HERE them, but I'm without the useful internet tools, here at home.
I don't have a landline, as it were.
And I don't plan on getting one. I would end up in a masturbation stupor from internet porn that would leave disease and fungus on all ten fingers I possess. And no one wants that.
Hey, I can finally do that LISTENING TO thing.
I'm LISTENING TO Dieselboy.
I forget the name of the album, but there's a hardhitting badass on the cover with a RPG and the beginning of the album starts off with a female computer voice giving instructions on how to use your futuristic body armour, that comes with the album as well.
Lord. I'm writing as if I WERE on coke. Maybe, it's the Aleve.
I'm hoping that a woman will pass by my window and think I'm an actual WRITER.
But, alas, my backyard is a jungle of trees and stream, infested with RACOONS that have mauled me more than once.
If I squint, and think real hard, I can pretend that everything I have written is MATRIX code - that's how odd this NOTEPAD font looks.
Oh, well.
Let's, again, congratulate Kim on letting me use this computer.
Poor Kim, she never realized that I would use it for evil.
Evil being: poor writing.
Yes, I'll admit that some of the posts I have written before this have made no sense; but, please to meet you, hope you guessed my name.....
Yes, Satan lurks here in Renton and he has his hands on a COMPAQ and is about to spill some ugly secrets about life.
Like the time I was molested by a BARBERSHOP QUARTET.
Lord, they had big dicks.

Anyway, you're going to find a more disgusting man writing in these blogs and you have this computer to blame.
Speaking of BARBERSHOP QUARTETS, I have to go have a smoke.
WAIT! AT HOME MATT need not walk outside for a smoke, he can have one in the inner-confines of his own bungalow.
What a DEAL!
LISTENING TO: QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE, SONGS FOR THE DEAF.
It's now 10.13 PM.
I'M WEARING: A white T-shirt and jeans.
I'M DRINKING: GATORADE.
I'M TYPING: STUFF.
Just joking, I'm drinking BUD and listening to the CARPENTERS, wearing only a pink thong my CANADIAN EX-GIRLFRIEND left in a MEAT DRAWER I just opened for the first time in three years in my refridgerator.
See, I said this wouldn't be pretty.
There's nothing funny about finding a thong in the meat drawer of your fridge; or, for that matter, ripping off Hunter S. Thompson horribly.
Yes, I'm just a hack that can't find his own VOICE.
Lord, the depressing effects of Bud and/or Gatoraide have finally set in and I'm starting to think I really was raped by a BARBERSHOP QUARTET.
No bother, there's always room for beauty in the world of magic, Joe.
Sadly, I'll have to read this tommorrow and wonder what the hell I was thinking.
Let's get back to scratch:

TOP TEN REASONS GEORGE W. BUSH COULD WIN IN 2004

10. The Children of America resemble the Children of the Corn
9. John Kerry doesn't even know who he is
8. The Rapture is coming and Jesus couldn't get on the Independant ticket
7. The disenfranchised are too busy trying to find work and/or flip a BigMac to vote
6. The movie dialogue of DIEHARD is more encrypted in the skull of 28-40 year-olds than the Constitution
5. The expierement called AMERICA has finally gone awry and millions of Brits are laughing themselves pissed
4. Infotainment - 34567, logical reasoning - 0
3. Our inability to keep up with the unjustices of a Nazi state, when faced with a media that is either "bipartison" or Right Wing. The former meaning people you know and trust (liberals) trying to play Jesus and giving the Right a chance. FUCK THEM. John Stewart I'm looking at you. If there was a time to fight - it's now. LIBERALS: Put down the Peace pipe and have some balls. Jesus tossed some tables amongst the money traders - so should you. Don't let a Redneck put his foot in your face cuz you're all about NON-VIOLENCE. KICK SOME ASS! Tell the redneck's of the world that they should be stuffed and feathered, then have your way with their wives. Later, we'll repent for this like G.W.
2. The fact that no one has got me laid recently. I cannot stress this enough. I need female companionship or George will win the election - trust me. Send all invites to TAPE4DISPENSE@YAHOO.COM
1. Keith Anderson and/or Chris Weisberg

I'm signing off. I need to eat refuse from a racoon's asshole in repentance for this ugly scene in which I can only be embarrassed via email.

P.S. Seriously, Kim may be the next MOTHER THERESA. If you like this blog, thank her and please visit her site that I will link to tomorrow. Some seriously funny, good writing there.
Like it should be.

Peace,
Emelda Marcos SR.

P.S.S. Note the donation link on the right. Please give. I will do huge amounts of drugs with the money and be funnier.

LONG LIVE THE FIGHTERS!

P.S.S.S. I will be doing a LIVE set on WHO KILLED KURT COBAIN on public access, channel 666.

Check it.

Contemplating suicide,
Levi