Archive for January, 2011

My heart drips with desire for the 2010 Strawberry Festival Queen

Wednesday, 26 January 2011

It’s been a horrific week in countless ways.

In other words, all systems Normal.

But then I saw this photo in the local paper, and allowed myself to be FASCINATED by the 2010 Strawberry Festival Queen.  Actually, that’s a lie, I “allowed” nothing and had no choice.


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I can’t take my eyes off her.  She’s everything at once:  beauty, youth, sex, power, but also humor.

Why do I feel this way about this photo?  Like so many in the age of mouse-click I’ve seen thousands and thousands of female faces, some pretty, most not; in the end all of them about as memorable as doorknobs.

How terrifying when the blind, tattered heart, in the lone seed of a single moment, truly sees…

It’s times like this I wish I was the Lord of Darkness.

Not the true Lord of Darkness, but his son, the red-skinned devil beast from the movie Legend.

What Strawberry Queen wouldn’t love a demon the color of strawberries, dipped to the waist in the liquid hot chocolate of DESIRE?

It’s a shit-horrible feeling to not be the man you need to be, at the right time.

I wish this was a joke.


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F*ck off Toyota and f*ck you, little sh;t

Sunday, 23 January 2011

I hate this obnoxious character, “Nathan James” and I hate all kids with “wild” hair.

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The thrust of these ads is that the new Toyota Highlander is a cool vehicle, as opposed to “dorky”.  Had no idea this was so important to consumers.  Forget quality, mileage, handling and price, what I want to know upfront is if this is a vehicle my 9-year-old son thinks is cool!

As usual, the Father is made to look like a hapless, clueless ass. Is it good business sense to insult one-half of your prospective consumer base?

Do the geniuses at Toyota know that ‘dork’ is slang for prick, cock, penis, lingam, etc?

This is not a case of,  “Back in my day, children were respectful.”  This is a case of Fuck Off, Idiots.

The Cave of my Dreams

Wednesday, 19 January 2011

I am only pretending to like people and that’s only so they don’t murder me.  Had I the resources I’d live alone in a cave with the land around it chock-full of landmines. The cave would have at least 10 years of supplies. I’d have a low-key contract with some company to deliver other stuff.

Admittedly I would probably have a computer, television and other electronic items in the cave, but with those things the influence of Others can be filtered. There are levels of honesty, even with oneself…that’s why a lot of people with money act like such fucking pricks: they can get away with it. Had I the money I wouldn’t be a prick, I would simply avoid humanity and be polite as much as possible, so as not to be murdered.

I would have plenty of warning signs and a huge electrified fence bordering the property around my cave. I would have special effects guys create realistic looking bodies impaled on spikes.  Should people try to intrude after that, the outermost ring of landmines would spray tear gas and pepper spray. If intruders didn’t get those hints, there would be small electric cannons that shot rock salt further in. I would have a fleet of drones so I could personally attack intruders, too. After all that, the landmines would be real landmines.

Right now I can’t afford even one landmine. My options are limited. I hate people. But only as needed.

The bum with the golden voice

Wednesday, 12 January 2011

I’m not in a charitable mood.  The story of the bum with the golden voice went from 5 seconds of getting choked up to who-gives-a-fuck.  He recorded a commercial for Kraft Macaroni & Cheese which may or may not air during the Super Bowl.  It’s surreal, in a counterfeit way.  I’m sure the bum was paid more than I make in two months for that bullshit.

The bum is still humble for now; only a matter of time and money (and pussy) before some gopher in the recording studio–LUCKY to be working in the field–is sprinting to get the bum another $15 bottle of purified tap water, or else. Actually that’s happening now.

The bum is back on top of the Abrams tank of capitalism instead of under the treads like so many.  Another newsie story had him arguing with his daughter in an LA hotel, loudly enough for the police to be called.  No arrests.

There was something that originally drove the bum with the golden voice to drink and drug and I suspect he’s fast remembering what it was.

The bum says he’s been clean for two years, referring to drugs and alk, but the truth is no one is clean, he’s back in the same slaughterhouse of deadlines and responsibilities.  The newness and fame is waning and it’s time to go back to work.  Welcome back!  Isn’t it better to be the handle than the bristle end of the toilet brush?

O Golden Voiced One, we need more commercials, more relentless voices to chip away at the last bit of cobalt-colored sanity in our brains.  Does Macaroni and Cheese even need to advertise?  Jesus Fucking Christ.

Quoticle – I already know this

Monday, 3 January 2011

The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?

~Jeremiah 17:9 (King James Version)