question

Somehow, I never saw one single episode of those non-funny “shit-coms” of the 80’s. You know, like Full House or Saved by the Bell. So, could someone answer a question? Are Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen old enough for me to masturbate over yet? What’s that? Oh… I gotta go!

mixing

I just can’t get myself to vote for either of these two assholes on Tuesday. That’s why I’m writing in my own candidate: Sara Silverman. She’s one hot little kosher bitch. But wait a second… If Jimmy Kimmel sucks on her tit and then eats her pussy, is that mixing meat and dairy? Maybe she’s not so kosher after all.

hair

I know it’s kind of last minute, but I haven’t picked out my Halloween costume. My arsenal is vast. There’s:

Broken human,
Disgruntled employee,
Middle aged dork,
Emotional cripple,
Self-conscience hunchback,
Bad childhood defective man,
And lastly…
Bald headed loser who couldn’t get laid in a whorehouse with a fist full of fifties.

Hey, I’m just kidding. I’ve actually got more hair than ever. It’s just that it’s all coming out of my ears and my ass.

burger

Now, I can’t really judge other people for being masochist. Hey, what ever floats your boat. But I just can’t understand how some people can subject themselves to tortures that most of us couldn’t even contemplate. So the other day, as I was walking downtown, I stumbled onto such a pain emporium. Oh, this is absolutely fiendish, no, horrible. What kind of people could find pleasure in this? This place is all my nightmares combined. Its… vegetarian kosher!?! Jesus, haven’t the Jews suffered enough? You would think after all the shit they’ve gone through God would let them have a fucking cheese burger already.

dream

You may think from my last blog that I don’t believe in God. Well, there has to be a God. Who else could have been fucking with me for my whole life? It’s just that I’ve never agreed with the path he’s laid out for me. And I haven’t totally given up the fight. Now, I buy one scratch off ticket every Monday. And since God would never allow any real dreams of mine to come true, I never bother to buy any potential big win tickets, like $100,000,000.00 kind of stuff, just one “Win $2,000.00 a Week for Life” ticket. I figure if God’s busy causing a plane crash or famine some where, or even starving some African child to death, I might be able to sneak a win in while he’s not paying attention. Hey, I can dream can’t I?

count

My first memory was throwing up in class and being sent home. But later in the year I ran into the bathroom to puke. And they kept me there, there ready to spew at a moment’s notice, for the rest of the day. And after nine years of this kind of stuff, what lessons did I carry with me? We were sinners, worthy of eternal fiery torment for such abominations as eating meat on Friday, or eating at all before mass on Sunday. But don’t worry, the church is the one true path to heaven they told us, unless of course you fuck up, like chew gum in school or forget to kneel as you pass the tabernacle. But then second grade hit. Now it was explained to us that through the sacraments, like First Communion, you now have the path to heaven. Whoopee! I can live forever. But wait a second. What was all this shit about chewing gum? Oh well, I was just a child. I really just didn’t understand. Time passed. Two years later came the fourth grade, and first confession. Now heinous cardinal sins, like bugging our parents to go to Wetsons, could be wiped away by the benevolent forgiveness of our savior. It was then explained to us that we really couldn’t have gotten to heaven before, original sin and such shit. Huh? Was I missing something? Around this time faith became important to me. You know, faith: that tacit ability to accept any bullshit because you are simply too stupid to understand God’s infinite wisdom. Faith got me through a lot in my childhood, all the way to the seventh grade and Confirmation. According to the lesbians, oh sorry, I should call them what they used to be known as: “nuns”. Anyway, according to the “nuns” we were now adults in the eyes of the Lord and everything we did before didn’t count because we were just children. What???!!!! You mean I could have been eating all the Three Musketeers I wanted, not gone to bed on time, or murdered my parents for that mater, and still have gotten to heaven? What the fuck? It was at this point the first subconscious cracks in my faith were sown, yet they were not to outwardly reveal themselves for many years. So, looking back, what did I really learn in nine years of Catholic School? It’s this: If you’re going to throw up, do it in front of someone or it doesn’t count.

yacht

Alas, I long for the innocent days of yore, a simpler time, when life was never so complicated. A world full of “swimmin” holes, Saturday barn dances, and moon light walks. A more noble age, where, after some Wall Street scumbag obliterated someone else’s life savings, they at least had the decency to jump out of a fucking window, thereby doing their bit to reduce the potential homeless problem. Now, all they have to do is sell the yacht. Boo fucking hoo.