I have lost all faith in the mascots of the fast food industry. I decided to go out last night for some good ole' drunken debauchery, and ended up with an appointment for rape counseling. and probably McAIDS. The events leading up to it are gone; possibly due to shock, or, a certain someone slipping a McRoofie in my drink. after awakening from my drug-induced coma this morning, I could only come up with one possible conclusion: I was raped by ronald mcdonald. that is the only possible explanation. just as my bloodshot eyes were adjusting to the morning light, evidence came clearly into my view. I was surrounded by five chicken nuggets, along with a large portion of french fries strewn about the bed. the calling cards of a McRapist. the brutality of the situation soon became clear, judging by the honey mustard splattered across the sheets. still trying to amass the situation at hand, I finally admitted to myself what had happened. I was lucky to be alive. I tried to explain this to my managers, who wanted a reason as to why I was fourty-five minutes late to work, but it fell upon deaf ears. now I'm most likely jobless; but with a better understanding for the fear of clowns. next time I'll remember to scream McFire.
I moved all my "alcohol n' adderal" influenced rantings here from my facebook profile, mainly because the jury is still out on what classifies as insanity on mypace. College kids just don't know talent when they see it. Or I'm just a moron.
What you see is what you get...except on tuesdays. Or the occasional casual friday. In other words, im too big of a douche bag to think of anything worth saying about myself. Except that im rich and have a gigantic penis. And that im a compulsive liar. Oh well.
This used to be a more extensive profile post, but i deleted most of the pharmaceutical-induced content. (update: ok, i've added a few crazy rants that are just testaments to my chemical imbalance. im really not this crazy in real life, i promise. i hide it extremely well.)
Albums currently in heavy IPod rotation (thank you, bittorrent!): Arcade Fire - Funeral Blue October - Consent to Treatment; The Answer Nine Inch Nails - Still; The Fragile; Things Falling Apart Death From Above 1979 - You're A Woman, I'm A Machine Deftones - B-Sides and Rarities; White Pony KMFDM - WWIII; NIHIL; Symbols; Hau Ruck Jimmy Eat World - Clarity; Bleed American Goldfinger - Open Your Eyes Korn - Issues; Korn A Perfect Circle - Mer de Norms; Thirteenth Step Pink Floyd - The Wall; The Division Bell; Animals Radiohead - OK Computer; Kid A System of a Down - Steal this Album!; Hypnotize Tool - Salival; Undertow The White Stripes - Get Behind Me Satan Static-X - Start A War; Wisconsin Death Trip Alkaline Trio - Crimson; Good Mourning Fall Out Boy - Take This To Your Grave; From Under The Cork Tree Bright Eyes - Wide Awake It's Morning Bruce Springsteen - Nebraska; The Ghost of Tom Joad Slipknot - Iowa Wilco - Kicking Television: Live in Chicago Johnny Cash - The Legendary; American IV
And many others i just can't think of at the moment
You purchased 1 ticket to:
Nine Inch Nails Pershing Center, Lincoln, NE Friday February 17, 2006 8:00 pm Seat location: section GENADM Total Charge: $50.15
If you're going, i'll be the drunk guy getting beat up by high schoolers in the mosh pit. Don't be afraid to say hi! (or call 911, if you really want to get your good citizen badge for a day)
In other news, I just found out that they finally got Golden Tee Live back at Old Chicago. So just that you know, if you happen to frequent that restaurant, i will now be the smelly guy passed out on the army cot near the mens restroom. Otherwise, i will be the smelly drunk guy playing Golden Tee and talking shit to little kids playing Big Buck Hunter or that annoying fucking Stuffed Animal Crane game ("Please Insert More Quarters"...FUCK OFF MACHINE! I DONT WANT TO PLAY YOU!!!!)
Lately I've been trying to join all those "Hott UNL Campus Stud Horse-Cock Guy" groups on here. I've succeded in a few, but the ones with 100 person limit are bullshit. I checked out the guys on there, and I know I've got the upper-hand on at least one or two of em. Did that sound gay? Fuck it. I want to join a group that will only grant me access based on my appearance. I'm just as shallow and vain as the rest of you, dammit. Where's my fucking crown? I need this to increase my already overblown sense of self-importance, to help fully expand my delusions of grandeur. I want to idolize the greatest thing in the world: me. I want to able to achieve orgasm just by looking in the mirror, because I know nothing could possibly be sexier. I've got a semi now just thinking about it. So stop holding out people, and throw some nominations my way. My ego is just begging for it.
If you haven't noticed (or actually cared), I took the long, boring, (not to mention borderline section eight) rants off this profile post. But do not worry, my fellow peers and peer-ettes (sic, or it's just not even a definable word). I gave in to the peer pressure, not to mention some questionable CIA torture methods (i.e. peter-tags & the occasional "good game"), inflicted on me by my associates and friends (real ones, not the facebook variety), and opened a myspace account. I threw all that crazyness into a blog (short for web log, because im trendy like that), and if you are one of the two people who actually read it, you can now re-read my bullshit to your hearts content! And as an added bonus, maybe you might catch the clap! If you know me, then you probably already have that, so how about some new drug-induced psychotic ranting? It's even all typed up and posted online, so the whole world can ignore and/or ridicule my idiocy. Just remember: "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but there's no cure for herpes." Enjoy! (btw: if you are too lazy to scroll up to the links that are probably still showing at the top of your screen, the address is: http://www.myspace.com/leleetomassey [or http://www.fsdfilms.com]) Why the name? Figure it out for yourself, and you might just consider me witty. Or a little too keen on obscure, dorky references. :P
Days left on Facebook Probation: 0 The withdrawls were so bad I joined Myspace. I need to seek professional help.
well, uh, the title says it all. i would go off on the numerous ass grabbings/pickpocket attempts, along with "get the fuck out of my way" becoming the "im rick james bitch" of the black-ensemble groupies that were probably still bleeding from cutting themselves, or the collar popped frat boy that was standing in front of me, looking like a palestinian that accidentally wandered into a synagogue. it was an interesting event, but bar none the best fucking concert ive ever seen.
word to the wise: just because you have a "cough" medicine, and seperate "congestion" medication, do not mix them. You will contemplate joining a milita so you can send whoever makes dayquil a Ted Kaczynski-special delivery. after about 3 hours of you drug induced shaking, hot sweats, cold sweats, cold sweats on hot skin, inability to move from your bed, and realize that it is a friday night, and for once in your life you actually had some sort of plans (well, not really, but i didnt plan on sitting at home all night...finale of arrested development was on, that was about my highlight of the night...blah blah blah please god give me aids, i know it cant be this bad. at least youve got like 7 plus years before symptoms show, eventually leading to horrible death. but it cant be that bad.) i seriously forgot what i was writing about, and i really cant see that well, and i dont have any motivation to look above to see what inconsistant bullshit i was rambling about. all i know is, if this shit isnt over with when i wake up, ill use those meds for what theyre really for... (which is attempted suicides to get the attention of loved ones because you feel rejected at 17 with no significant other or any real friends so you listen to some horrible local emo band that has a snowballs chance in hell of ever getting signed and dream of the day when people will appreciate you for who you are and your "natural beauty..." and by natural beauty i mean 43 piercings, 19 spoon/rc car motor tattoes (because ex-cons are SO cool), pasty white acne covered skin, greasy ass black plus pink or green or some other fucked up color, cut and styled like you let you blind brother with down syndrome become your personal hair/makeup guy, and your fucking makeup. or lack thereof. whatever, the lorazepam's kicking in, im gonna go watch true romance. why? didnt you read my post? i am obviously fucked in the head. jesus h christ, do you want me to draw you a picture? ok fuckit im done
I think today is possibly the worst day of my life. I know what youre thinking, "Oh fucking cry, your life is so horrible, you fucking self-loathing douche. " Well, its not. But as far back as I can remember, I cannot even fathom a day such as this. I really dont want to go into total specifics, but Ill give you the gist of it. Day starts off waking up to alarm at 6:20 am. Hit snooze a few times, finally get up at 6:40. I seriously think that I am running late, so I haul ass in the shower and get non-smelly for my one and only class of the day. No big deal. All ready to leave, and I look at the clock. It says 7:13. My class isnt till 8:30. Fuck. I forced myself out of bed that early to finally realize that Im too dumb to remember how many minutes are in an hour. Oh well, fuck it, blah blah, soon class is over. I go to the library, do a few of my online courses (hey, thats what happens when you wait a week after pre-registration.). Then, after class, I had to go through this boring ass evaluation (dont ask), which is actually the reason I was late to work. No big deal though. I let them know ahead of time, plus we were dead as fuck the whole time anyway. So who cares? Thats right; No one. If I really had the time and the patience, I would go about explaining every other little bullshit thing that I went through today. But I already know that would be pointless. Whats the best that could happen? Somebody sends you a better luck next time greeting card? No, sorry, thats not the way the world works. Jesus, I want to just keep going about everything, but you would get bored in about 14 seconds. Its one of those things that I guess you had to be there. But Im sure my cut-n-dry quick story will fill you in enough. This really isnt a story, but more of an anecdote.
Of all the things that went on today, none really seemed that significant until about 4:15 PM today. I was still at work, talking to some friends I know extremely well, when it happened. Im not going to try and dictate the actions in the minutes beforehand, and Im not going to say names or relations. I will say this was an accident in all forms of the word, trust me. I witnessed first hand, and I now have to deal with it, so lying isnt exactly going to make things better. Ok then, Ill get to the point. I have seen, heard, and talked about a lot of really fucked-up things in my life. Im never the willing participant, but shit, Ill hang out and watch you throw your life away. That has never bothered me. Ive seen some fucked up things, things I would gladly trade a limb just for 10 seconds of that feeling we like to call piece of mind, the sense of relief that you get when you have no worries, no afflictions. Alas, not in my world. Im not sure if its just a coincidence thing or what, but it seems like all creative-minded persons have all the seriously fucked up things happen to them, or at least have some role in them. I still say the only reason it seems this way, though, is because all artists take everything way out of context. They will find anything to tell themselves that some random person is part of world that is trying to suppress and censor them. It makes a lot more sense when you figure out youre the creative genius, and they are the fucking cretins. Ok, sorry, Ill get to the point.
Have you ever held some weird association in your head with sounds? It doesnt matter what it is, or where it came from, it still just happens to come out of nowhere for some reason, whether it actually exists or not? Well, thats not the sound Im talking about. Are you really sensitive? Or do you consider yourself jaded? Hey, fine. I throw myself on the jaded side the majority of the time, but not for this.
For the sake of argument; have you ever heard a warm cantaloupe hit the cement from about waist-height? If not, could you maybe imagine what that sounds like? If you still have no idea, go buy a fucking cantaloupe and throw it off your roof into your driveway. I realize thats more than around 3 feet, but that way you will get the message loud and clear. Ok, back to where I was. So you know the sound. Now just close your eyes; close them deep and hard. Dont make a visual image; just keep thinking of that sound. Let it get louder. Sit back; let that sound be all you can focus on. Relax. Everythings going to be ok. Just keep that sound going.
Still have the sound going? Great! Now, you want to know where Im going with this. Well, dont stop thinking about the sound, and Ill tell you Still going? Okay then. Quick question: Have you ever heard a six-month old baby fall four feet and land head first on concrete? If not, that sound youve been thinking about is about the closest I could get. Im not trying to be some crazy fuck here, I truly am serious. Ive been desensitized and traumatized by all sorts of shit in my life, but Id have taken those things ten-fold again if I could forget I witnessed such a travesty. Just think of that sound. Now keep the sound, but throw in the mental image of a 6-7 month old baby girl falling head first onto cement. Make sure the sound of the cantaloupe hitting the ground has the same timing. What next? Well, I dont know about you, but I really think I am going to vomit. And its not even the brown bottle flu. Guess my skin's not as thick as I thought it was.
Do you remember that asshole that cut you off yesterday? Well, that was me. How about the guy that bought the last copy of the newspaper? Sorry, didnt know you could read. What about that time somebody massively overflowed the toilet at your last party? I dont know about you, but I sure felt better. Or when you found out your mom was cheating on your dad, leading to their divorce, numerous lawsuits, and your new bastard-child little brother? Maybe next time shell remember to lock the door; let alone make sure I wasnt lying about the condom. How about that kid who used to call you fatass and throw rocks at your head in grade school? School counselor said I was just coming into my own; whats your excuse there, chunky? Youd never forget that guy who mugged you in the alley at gun-point, would you? Im still laughing you forked over four-hundred in cash and a grip-load of credit cards to some drunk fuck; especially when the only thing in that brown bag was my hand. Then there was the guy who told you he loved you, promised you the world, and then never called you back once he took your virginity? Guilty as charged. And after that car accident, when you discovered your bottle of Vicodin had magically refilled itself with tic-tacs? Lets seeyou left painkillers in your main bathrooms medicine cabinet. Using that logic, you might as well of left them on the front porch and been done with it. And you never did thank me for the tic-tacs, asshole. And speaking of drugs, how about the time you talked your best friend into trying coke, and they ended up going into a seizure and having a brain aneurysm? Well, most dealers cut coke with baking powder; but cocaine and Comet both start with a "c" so I assumed it was the better choice. How about when you had to walk seventeen miles out in the middle of nowhere because of four flat tires? The thing is, this guy I was pissed at had those exact same kind of tires. I just wasnt sure about the car. Im not sure if you know about this, but did anyone ever tell you that you spent an extra week in the hospital because of sudden toxic shock? All your IV was doing was dripping, so I just figured a nice squeeze or two might help you hop out of the hospital bed a little quicker. Guess too much saline in the body isnt a good thing.
But all things considered, you know Im not a bad person at heart. Remember the time your dog Ernie ran away, and you hadnt seen him for days? Who was the first person at your house, comforting you, telling you everything was going to be ok, letting you cry on their shoulder? Ok, that wasnt me, but at least poor Ernies still in your heart.
Plus, after the party you had, theres probably still some of him clogged in that toilet.