The Hellbound Heart

I would like to start today's musing by saying that it is my belief that I just chugged some coke from a glass I think a dirty puggle was drinking from. It is absolutely deplorable. It is like sweaty fat men are having a poo fight in my mouth. The only compassion I can draw is to having a swig of beer out of a can that some d-bag has used as an ashtray at a party. With that image in mind, we can now return to the bloggy goodness.

Have you ever just found yourself slightly bored? Not like a life crushing, sick of it all boredom. Just just a mid-line, don't know what to do with yourself kind of boredom? I own a ton of videogames, everyone seems to bore me today. I have stacks of book, I could care less. If anyone stumbles upon this meek lil blog please leave some suggestions for games, books, or even masturbatory techniques. I feel like playing games, but I don't want to go drop the money for a new one. I know it would be an afternoon of good times, but then I would drop it and be out $60. (damn, when did games so expensive.) I really need suggestions for books. I usually read political or historical non-fiction, but I got the jonsen' for a story. I love any type of horror, so if anyone knows anything good let me know. I have read almost all of Stephen King's books, they are good but not what I call scary. H.P. Lovecraft seems more up my ally. If anyone out there has read Brahm Stroker's Dracula, I am wondering if it is a good read?

My wife is bored, she is asleep. She is mad cause I am boring. If only she could get into the gaming. I imagine the day we slaughter covenant hand in hand, freeing the galaxy of all things flood related. Like most dreams, this will never happen. I will have to dream more realistically, like dreams of bottles of Jaugermeister, more tattoo's or Internet porn. All these things are at least obtainable.

A I whine/type I see that my fish tank could use a cleaning. This would fix everything. No more boredom and productivity, sounds like a win win to me. I also know that this will not happen. Why must productivity be accompanied by work? It would be much easier if these were not in direct correlation to one another.

One of my newly acquired kinfolk told me that when I blog it is like I am a kid on Ritalin. She also said that this is not like the me in the person. She needs to get to know me I guess. Isn't it possible to be both quiet and weird? mmmmmmm Ritalin. We used to pull lines of that off the lunch table in school. Good times, good times.

I have always wondered why I can write to no end, but talking holds little interest to me. My guess is that a reader can stop reading at anytime. A listener must (often socially awkwardly) excuse themselves from a conversation. Perhaps writing is my form of empathy. I feel for people who try and follow these tangents, so by writing it, I give them the excuse to slowly back away and not feel bad.

If anyone here has yet to discover the awesomeness, may I suggest a visit to http://www.fark.com/. A great collection of news from around the world. Politics, showbiz, real biz, videogames, a lil bit of everything and enough flame wars to keep you p all night arguing on the interwebs. This sight is kind of my obsession. I always have the laptop up when my wife watches tv, and I can go check for updates about every fifteen minutes to help keep my mind sharp. I have probably been there 3 or 4 times during the writing of this, what can I say, it is a slow day.

I have found the answer, beer fixes all. Time for a drink, and maybe think about something relevant to put on here.



In Love and Rage,

Fluffy

Waiting for Godot

It came about the time I saw the tenth head exploded in a pile of digitized gore. It tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear, "video games rule." I could go on and on for hours, maybe later I will, but just so you all know, video games rule. Why just watch tv and get assaulted by commercials every 5 - 7 minutes, when I could just slam caffeine and go hours with no interruptions (well maybe pee and smoke breaks..... and substitute caffeine for booze). I like the interaction, I like the plotlines, be they deep and moving, or something more akin to Tom Clancy with ADHD and a case of whipits. My wife does not understand, she does not see a game as ever being deep, logically my reply is Final Fantasy 4 (yeah I cried). She does not approve of all the killing.... I disagree, I see nothing wrong with premature termination of binary code. She goes with the violence argument, I say she can go and talk with Jack Thomson. She says they are geeky..... for this I have no reply, then I realize she watches reality tv (a lot of reality tv).... I win. This is all my inner geek has to say right now, my outer geek needs a smoke and to shoot some terrorist binary.

RIP Funny Man

Shit
Piss
Fuck
Cunt
Cocksucker
Motherfucker
Tits

You will be missed

Naked Lunch

i like food, food tastes good! i like food, food tastes good! juicy burgers, greasy fries turkey legs and raw fish eyes teenage girls, with ketchup too! get out of my way, or i'll eat you i like food, food tastes good! i like food, food tastes good! i'm going to turn dining back into eating. -Milo-

Through the Looking Glass

"That government is best which governs least." T. Paine
A surprising favorite quote from a man who in all likely hood is going to vote for Obama. I read a friends blog today (OK actually a new step cousin, if such things exist), and she had some wonderful thoughts about the "elections" currently taking place in Zimbabwe. I enjoyed her thoughts and they set my musings over to thoughts of governments an authority. She is quit the liberal and her words held enough empathy for myself and small room full of nihilists. I feel this is a good thing, the world needs people who care.
I on the other hand am a socialist who hates society. Perhaps an enlightened anarchist if you will. "Do what ye want, Harm none." (I have a feeling there will be a lot of quotes today, sometimes it is easier to let smarter people talk for you.) I believe in working to straighten the common good, but do the commons really deserve it? Do I mind paying high taxes for social services? Nope, I love parks, I like public works, I am all for welfare when it is warranted, and even some cases where it may not be. What bothers me is when the elite find ways to bypass there share and hold money in P.O. boxes in far away lands, and when the disenfranchised just give up and start to collect more then they contribute. When situations like this occur, it adds an undo burden to already stretched middle class.
I would like to note that as my rantings begin to froth, I am sitting next to a singing wife and a very stinky puggle. These are the things that make life interesting. My wife says I should write a post about my puggle, that is gonna take some whiskey. Back to the diatribe.
"Government, even in it's best state, is but a necessary evil; in it's worst state, an intolerable one." (Yeah that's right, I came to bring the Paine.) It seems that every day I hear more of the abysmal approval ratings of our monkey and chief. It may seem out of character, but I am gonna have to say, "give the guy a break." I only say this as a reflection on our congress. It took G Dub 7 years to get his ratings so low. It took him 7 years of actively running our country into the ground for the average American to say, "Ya know what??? Fuck you Mr. Bush." It only took our newly elected democratic congress one year of doing absolutely nothing to reach the same, if not lower ratings. Now that my friend is some mad skill.
Sometimes I stop and think, I as going somewhere wasn't I? The answer I feel is probably not, but I shall press on non-the-less. Let's go back to Africa and start with another quote.
"When dictatorship is fact, revolution becomes a right." -?? (It's not Paine, first lucky person to guess gets a cookie.) I don't think there words more true. If you are oppressed, it is up to you to change it. Demonstrations, riots, coups, some options are less bloody then others, but in the end all can work. It is not the job of the U.N. to intercede in the problems of all developing nations. (okay okay, maybe it is, but anywho...) You can't wait till the president of the United States decides he wants your oil... or to liberate you, yeah that's it. Most great nations are born from revolution. The U.S., France, China, Russia, all born from revolution. Not to say that Russia and China are the happiest places in the world, but they are supper powers born of popular revolution.
I have been told that this is getting to long, I believe it is getting to long winded. Please disregard anything in here, it may require a rewrite in order to pull a thread of sanity from it. On to something more fun.

In love and rage

Paradise Lost

My life is slowly turning into a horror movie. Every day it is the same..... eerie and chilling. I snap awake in the morning, soft shades of daylight, birds softly chirping, turn and reach for my phone/clock. Why even look..... I already know. It is 5:20.... the hour of the witching, or not, just early, really early. Anyway, it has been like this for almost two weeks now. Never 5:19, not once 5:21, always 5:20. I think it means something. I think it means I may have gas (or the wife, or the cat).
Now that we have that out of the way we can move on to the more pressing matters of the day. Like why do libidinous girls only seem to come out in the summer, and why do they dress so dirty. Not like this is a complaint or anything, but the day it goes over 70 it is like a skank convention on every street corner in the city. My wife is hot, it is over 70, she is yet to bust out the slut wear. I guess she was not born with the Summer Hoochie Gene. This is a shame. I wonder if the gene is hereditary, did it adabt through natural selection? Is this nature vs nurture, is there some inherent survivability to wearing booty shorts with juicy on the ass and a tight transparent shirt? If I ever have a daughter and she is hoe.... will my gene's be more apt to survive through the ages? (Upon rereading this, the answer became obvious.... yes, yes it is.) Only time will tell I guess.
Speaking of having a hot wife, she is out getting her hair chopped. I hope she does something sexy like a pink mohawk or a permed mullet. I doubt it, but a man can dream can't he? I wish I were dreaming. I wish I were asleep. I could use a good sleep. A good 13-14 hours of dark bliss, but alas it shall not be. I just left a job 5 miles from O'hare, came home, and get to go right back to pick up my parents. This is my exciting life and it is ending one minute at a time.
Maybe I need some thrills, maybe I just need some hot lovin. For some reason this makes me think of the good ol day's, you know the ones, about a decade before I was born. I have been watching a lot of old comedies lately (mostly for the boobs), and almost every movie has the obligatory 1970's streaking scene. I think to myself, that looks kinda fun. I honestly think it would be fun to shed it all off and book it through the Fox Valley Mall. There are many reasons this will never happen. First off, I am a smoker. I believe in order to streak, one must run over 25 feet. The thought of running such great distances makes my soul weep in fear and angst. Seeing that I can run no farther then your average geriatric, my naked capture would seem inevitable. I do not like cops, I do not like it when cops touch me, I have a feeling it would be worse in the buff, but back to the matter at hand. The main reason I would never go streaking, is I wonder what would happen to a streaker in this day and age? Is this a sex offense? Will I lose my house cause I live next to a school and I am now a registered sex offender? Do I have to go tell all my neighbors that I am a sexual predator, but no worries.... "it was a small offense but due to the nature of the case I can not tell you the specifics." I could see if one were to streak, say through the center of an elementry school during recess, okay, maybe some problems there. But the mall?? Maybe some teenagers will see, maybe even a kid, but is it really a sexual offense. Still, a sexual felony may be getting off light. Would some Mall Marshall (my made up brethren to the Sky Marshall) give me the old two to the heart one to the head out of fear when he sees the heat I am packing? Sometimes I give myself too much credit, but hey, a man can dream.
Really what is wrong with us today? What happened to the drunk and high shenannigans of my seventies and eighties B comedies. The littlest things can now send society into an uproar. I used to work for a large retailer. I worked in the garage installing car stereos. Our store had no official security, so often if there was a situation with the potential of "escalation", employees would come to us. Not like we were a bunch of baddasses (just in our minds), but because we had the hammers and the screwdrivers, ya know, just in case. So we are having our big day after Thanksgiving sale, you know the one, where you, yeah I am talking to you, you capitalist swine. Well the sale where people wait in line from midnight to five in the morning when we "blow" open our doors and take all your money for really cheap goods at even cheaper prices. Well I am in my garage loading tv's into cars when a manager flies in and tells me he needs assistance. He pulls me in the store, and over to the bathroom where he had another employee trying to rouse a man who has rolled out a mat and is kneeling on it praying. He's got another employee on a phone with 9-1 dialed just waiting for the go ahead to hit the last 1. This could possibly be one of the only times in my life where I am the one with the common sense. Sun is rising, guy has dark skin, on a mat praying. He is either about to unleash fire and death upon the infidels, or he is one of the 1.5 billion people who follows Islam and is partaking in his mandatory morning prayer. I tell the employee to leave him alone, and tell my manager everything is fine as I walk back to my install cave.
I understand that a handful of Muslim extremist attacked us, it is scary and may they all burn in the lowest pit of the most damned imagination, but must we all now live in fear?? BTW, if you have ever waited in line for one of those sales, I hate you from the deepest pits of my cold black heart.
So I am lost in rant. That probably in no way tied into my secret desires to streak the mall, but at least to me it did. I am trying not be all tree humpin liberal, but things just seem out of hand. It is like the sad tale of Genarlow Wilson. It seems our Friend Genarlow was at crazy party, and there seems to be a video tape of him getting a bj from an underage girl. Well seeing that this is a violation of the law, he gets ten years in pokie. Sounds good, commit the crime, do the time. But as it turns out our "pervert" in this story is 17 and his underage shorty is 15. Not like I would agree with anyone ever getting a bj, at a party, and on tape non the less (well ok maybe I would). This is just crazy. My grandparents were further apart in age, and I doubt that even the straightest republican could label them sodomites. It just seems to me that we as a society are so obsessed with our safety and protecting the values of the children that we lost sight of our values. The god given values, like public praying, running through the mall naked, and our unquestionable right to performing sexual acts at parties with the camera rolling. Where has my America gone?

In love and Rage and long rambling prose: Fluffy

Divine Comedy

Tail end of my twenties and I am joining this "information age." It is late, or maybe it is early, guess it doesn't matter much. I am trying out this blogging thing my wife seems to like so much. I have never had any kind of page like this, I am a bit too old for a myspace page (always figured a myspace page would end in a seedy motel room with a 16 year old and a few eight balls of blow), and not desperate enough to be added to Adult Friend Finder (happily married tyvm). So it is with a shot and a grin I throw myself out to the millions (or 3) faceless strangers who would want to read about my life and my musings. I really think this is more for me then for anyone else.
So where to begin? I guess the beginning would be appropriate, seeing as to how I do not know how it will end. I have a nice suburban home, a beautiful wife, a fat cat, and a red-headed stepchild of a puggle. I run wire in peoples homes and hang ridiculously large flat panel televisions on their walls. I drink more then I should and spend way too many hours playing games for a grown man. All in all I can't complain, but I guess a part of me does....
I love music, or at least I used to. I like the kind of punk that makes you want to run through the streets firing an AK into the sky and lob moltov's at police when the album has been spun. I like the kind of metal that makes you want to go slaughter a goat in the name of norse gods after the last guttural tyraid has been belched....... or at least i used too. About a year ago I discovered AM talk radio...... and my life changed. Not sure if Rush Limbaugh has some type of hypnotic/heroinesque quality in his flatulent voice, or my tastes just started to change. Gone are the days of flying down the street, woofers pumping out sounds offensive to all but one. Now it a leisurely summers drive with fiery diatribes at moderate volumes from the left and the right side of the aisle. Life is funny this way.
It is funny in many a way. One day you are a burnout anarchist youth fueled by boobs and booze, and then the next, you are, well....here. Laying in bed with your passed out wife, cat at your feet, dog snoring in the kitchen. You are bored, it feels like 1:30 is almost dawn when it used to be 4:30. It makes your head swim, makes one wonder if it a good thing or a great thing, or possibly a bad thing. When I was younger, I never thought i would see 21. When I hit that milestone, it felt like every day after that was living on borrowed time. Then as the days churn on, there comes a realisation that the time is no longer borrowed, and probably never was. I was either saved or enslaved. Life is good, life is fun, but it is no longer wild. Was my father this way? My grandfather? Is this just the progression of the male life? Is this what makes beer taste so swell? Is Neil Peart really as good of a drummer as everyone says?
If I could spout one useless fact about myself, it would be I love to ramble. Not so much orally (unless the whiskey is hittin), but with the written word, I could expunge tangent and rants for days. If I don't know you, and you have come this far, you have my deepest sympathies, and I kinda worry about you. If I do know you, what I just said goes double.
Since this is my first blog I thought I would go for the dark and edgy feel. After all this I think I may have to go into the bathroom and start taking pictures of myself from that above the head angle that seems to be so popular now a days. (I like to play emo when I write, makes me feel hip) Sounds like a good idea to me, I need to do something, getting a little stir crazy in bed.
Think I have bored myself and maybe you enough for the evening. I shall return after I unrepress some childhood memories and leave another rant for you perusal pleasures.

In Love and Rage... Fluffy