Friday, January 27, 2006

last i checked, lance armstrong wasn't enrolled at UNL

im going to summarize this post in one quick sentence. bikes (or anything with wheels, for that matter. sorry handi-man, better hire an undeclared pledge to carry your mobility-challenged ass around), should be permanently banned from campus. you cant even ride the goddamned things on any sidewalk downtown, and campus is downtown, so whats the fucking difference? i have to train-dodge these pompous ass clowns at least twice a day, and each time i get closer and closer to dealing out a well-executed neck chop to the next bag of douche that comes within arms length. it wouldnt bother me if these shitheads would abide by those little things called traffic laws, which state that pedestrians have the right-of-way. and no, just because your two legs are the objects that power your two-wheeled menace does not make you a pedestrian. it makes you just another fuck stick that thinks theyre some cowpoke riding their steed off into the sunset. just because you happen to look eight feet tall when youre scooting around does not mean you can act like it. and why does every one of these lazy dipshits insist on owning some 37-speed Trek, complete with front and rear triple-monotube, gas-filled, fast-action shock absorbers, quadruple titanium-spiked limited edition racing pedals, and a custom-made, butt-contoured, long-distance calf-skin comfort-gel seat? last I checked, avery hall was not perched alongside the peak of mount everest. since when did getting to class two minutes faster than everyone else become that important? if time is an issue, talk to an advisor when you make your next schedule, not to the wal-mart sales associate about how you have 37 seconds of travel time in-between classes. seriously, when has walking been this big of an issue? 97.5f the rest of the student body seems to be able to get around just fine this way, what the fuck is your problem? is it some sort of napoleon-complex, maybe an issue you have about sitting two feet higher in the atmosphere above everyone else? you are the same type of dipshit that buys a 2 mpg suv just to feel safe. fuck you. you are the reason for everything that is wrong with the world. want proof? well fuck you again, you dont deserve it. youre lucky Im even wasting my time talking about the waste of humanity you wish you could embody. you are the reason abortion should be legal across the board, and why stem-cell research should be embraced, because that is the only possible way anything good could come out of you. i am about to the point that when the next king of the sidewalk comes within spitting distance, i am going to throw out a friendly magic stick o vengeance right between the front spokes of your brand new huffy. then the rest of the student body, who have amazingly discovered the ability to walk upright, will guffaw at your newly paralyzed self laying on the grass, right next to the wall you just flew into. bet you wish you would have worn that helmet now, huh? have fun finding a pledge to carry you around, though, because theyre about to become a commodity. consider yourself lucky if you only lose the function of your legs. there is nothing cooler than watching some moron trying to army crawl while unknowingly being stepped on by fellow classmates, too occupied with their cell phones and ipods to notice youre the crippled proof that god has a sense of humor.

i think i just blacked out.
where the fuck did my pants go?
i don't remember a dead prostitute in my closet. that must mean it's a saturday.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

17 year olds are lightweights

alright, this picture isn't funny anymore.

but i still can't delete it for some reason.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

you'll start caring once it kills you

I was happy with the world today. Some may call that a rare occasion; but every dog has its day. I started a myspace account, got shit upon by coworkers/high schoolers, went out for a friends 21st, and finished the night substituting a fellow employee for the bar bowling league. All is kosher, no big deal. Then I got home. What a surprise lay dormant for me. I sit in my room, munch a DeLeon's breakfast burrito, and decide to turn on my T.V. What movie decides to grace itself within my presence? Elephant. I'm not sure if the three people reading this have seen it, but I suggest you do. I had totally blocked this film out of my memory after the first time I saw it, just a little over two years ago, and tonight was too fresh of a reminder. It came back to remind me of the human condition, the anti-social rage that is the fuel for the unappreciated youth. I offer no sympathy for the actions of the antagonists of the film, but yet I feel an overwhelming sense of guilt, almost to the point of empathy. It reminded me what it was like to care about someone you had never met before, someone who didn't even exist in your own personal world. It reminded me of all the shit this world is based upon, how the greed of the rich feeds off the dreams of the poor. I know this film is a character study, but it is a shocking film that should be seen by everyone; yet will most likely be understood by those who happened to be a teenager in the late 1990's. It is a saga of the misrepresentation, the misguidance, and the misdirection of the youth of today. These events could have easily been deterred, but I cannot say they would have not been repeated. The society we live in is one based on the ability to satisfy ourselves, and the relentless persecutions of others who we feel don't belong. We pride ourselves in our freedom, yet mistake it as a synonym for patriotism. We are the sheep, and our Shepard is the man with the outstanding ideals, the person who represents the everyman. But like the everyman, his say in the long run is notwithstanding, unless his appointed yes-men decide it so. This is the problem of our society. Not the fact that we are dumb enough to vote out of pure idealism, but that we would put our faith in a trust-fund asshole with favors to give. We fucked ourselves, and I don't give two shits who you voted for. The only reason a worthless fuck like this would even be allowed to participate in a school board election is because of two things: Public opinion, and money. You can buy opinion with money; the vice-versa isn't quite the same. I can bitch, but these are the inherent flaws of living in a capitalist society. We sometimes become so blinded by the thought of wealth we close our eyes to what's really important. I'm not sure where I am going with this. The question is, why the hell are you even wasting time reading it?

Saturday, January 21, 2006

i flew to thailand to fuck a twelve-year old prostitute and all i got was this lousy t-shirt

I hate myspace. I thought the instructions to my japanese bukkake starter kit were confusing, but this shit takes the cake (and those instructions were in german, for christs sake. those crazy japanese and their axis power ways). I'm not sure if they plan out different times for half the shit on the site to be down, or it's just plain coincidence. Whatever. And why does "Tom" automatically have to be my friend? For a minute there I was convinced I joined a man-on-man penis fencing team. I then soon realized he was the lazy college dropout that started this catastropy. Good job buddy. Thanks to you, now every emo-punk shithead fifteen year-old can make a crappy website to voice their photocopied opinions and asinine blathering. Not to mention the who-gives-two-shits comments their imaginary myspace "friends" somehow create; most likely by pounding their palsied fists at the keyboard while moaning like helen keller being beat with a blind stick by anne sullivan. Seriously, just search this site for "asshat," and you'll come up with 5432 matches (Trust me, I'm one of them). So why did I join, let alone continue to post bullshit on here if I loathe it so much? I don't know about you, but I'm just in it for the titties. Nothing like some pasty-white A-cup emo-boobies to liven up your day. All this typing is giving me a migraine. Must be time for an vodka/lorazepam cocktail; splashed with NyQuil for flavor's sake. A self-induced coma would really hit the spot about now.

Friday, January 13, 2006

a friendly "fuck you" to all the superficial assholes in the audienc

Today I was probably the main source of entertainment for about 3/4ths of the student body. I had to pick up some reading material from the bookstore (Guide to Writing, Hustler), and after the purchase i just threw it in my bookbag like any normal student would. After walking about 3 feet, I realized my bookbag had now weighed a metric ton and its shape reminded me of a jagged boulder. So I decided to drag it to my car and empty some of the load. Sat in my car, took out excess books, got out and walked back towards main campus. I still had an hour to kill before class, so I decided to walk around campus, enjoy the scenery, chain smoke cigarettes, and secretly check out boobies. This went all well and good, walked all over the place for about 35 minutes. Saw and passed many of my fellow students, no big deal. About 40 mintues into my jaunt, I was beginning to get irritated at my bookbag, something just felt weird about it when it was hanging off my shoulder. I stop and take it off, and to my surprise, it was completely unzipped and hanging wide open. I felt like the biggest jackass within 5 square miles (and there's alot of homeless guys around there, so you know i felt like shit). As I checked my inventory, I came to the realization that I must have walked by about 500 people, and not one person even tapped me on the goddamn shoulder to tell me i was split open wider than a hooker's legs on twofer-tuesday. That pissed me off. So if anyone out there reading this remembers getting a cheap laugh at my expense: i hope your future children are born looking like god took a mulligan. After 3 months of staring at that monstrosity, you decide to swallow a bottle of tylenol. You are obviously worthless at life (probably an economics major), so your take-my-pain-away attempt fails miserably; leaving you to become the Terri Schiavo of 2006. You could have thrown a fucking rock at my head, and as soon as i regained consciousness im sure i would have noticed my bookbag was unzipped. And the fucking clincher: Later i went back to the union to get another book (The Best of Penthouse Forum), lit a cigarette as i was walking out, and not 20 fucking feet away this guy pratically chases me down and taps me on the shoulder. I pull the headphone bud out of my ear, and before i can even get a word in, he says "Hey man, can I get a smoke from ya?" So i punched him in the throat and stomped on his chest till i heard ribs break. Where the fuck was that bum 2 hours ago? Probably laughing at my ass, all while the contents of my bag slowly marked my trail like red riding hood's fucking bread crumbs. So he deserved the bashing I so lovingly laid upon his ass. I seriously would have rather been walking around with my fly down. Maybe then someone would have gotten a free shot at my cash & prizes. It's always fun to catch a pecker checker.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

give me my rib back, you thieving harlot

Like many people in this world, I am single. And I figured out not long ago that I am gonna be that way for a loooong time. Why? Lets get down to brass tacks. Some people think that similar interests will lead to inevitable attraction. That's bullshit. Unless you're identical twins and born in Kentucky, that connection is short lived at best. Why, you ask? Every woman Ive ever met that shared even a quarter of my interests had a Britannica sized edition of personality disorders, and probably cut herself daily just "to feel something." Nix that idea. Others say opposites attract. Bullshit ..2. Any woman whose interests are diametrically opposed to mine will lose interest quickly. Which is pretty much after she realizes what a nutbag I really am, and that everything I told her in the beginning was just a line of bullshit to get in her pants. And if she fell for that, whoops. Your bad. But these are also the women that drive me totally insane, because they ditch my ass like a prom night pregnancy and I have no sense of closure. I cant fucking stand that, because I hate loose ends more than I love loose women. So I'll keep trying and trying to work at it or figure out some sort of answer, and Ill either get the runaround or they inexplicitly disappear off the face of the planet (you know who you me back, please?) Thats just a bad deal. And then there are the ones who catch me in not the best of moods, and feel they can have an "intellectual" discussion about things they have no fucking clue about. Ill entertain their ideas, thoughts, and whatever else they can come up with. But when it's my turn to talk, Ill turn up the heat to the point that being just uncomfortable seems ideal. Example: A few weeks ago, I was in one of those "The human race disgusts me" moods (this usually happens after work. customers suck.), and a friend of mine's "friend," who I had never met, starts talking to me. She begins with inane conversation, then somehow proceeds to ramble on about conspiracy theories dealing with the Kennedy assassination and such (I think I am just a magnet for this shit...the CIA ordered 11 poison dart shooting umbrellas? I was such awe of the astounding stupidity that I thought I was feeling the onset of an epileptic seizure), and then started getting into politics (abortion, welfare and such...topics I have firm ideals on that I express very willingly when I feel they deserve merit). I counter pointed and conversated about all sorts of the ins and outs of these general topics, and then came closing time. Everything seemed all good, I got to vent, and she seemed fine after my self-indulgent rant. I go use the men's room before leaving (no.1, if you were curious), and then hop in my car and head over to a friend's place. Ten minutes later, my phone rings. It ends up being the friend from earlier, who's other "friend" I was debating with apparently was crying all the way to her house about how I "made fun of" her miscarriage at 15, her idiotic opinions on everything, how her face looked like it was hit with a waffle iron, about how her vocabulary was about as deep as a 4th graders, and probably something about how bulimic whores, such as herself, should go choke on their own vomit, drown in the toilet, and stop wasting the air of those of us with an IQ higher than the amount of fingers we can hold up. But alas, I was fucking pissed. I had done no such thing (I was sober, trust me, I remember), and this did not make me a happy-go-fucking-lucky camper. I argued about these infantile accusations for awhile, and then realized it was pointless. I know I can be a heartless bastard, willing to go above and beyond good taste when I really feel someone deserves it, but I was actually innocent this time. And now Im pissed off again from just bringing it up.
Fuck her. Crybaby.