Friday, September 17, 2010

What's that called of consciousness?

I'm listening to my dad prophesize doom for mankind again. I need to get him a"The End Is Near" apron w/accompanying bell gift set already....
Most kids are dissapointed when that fairy tale web of lies their parents spun to shield them from the real world unravels...
You know, fairy tales about Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy and your job prospects increasing as you collect degrees and certificates like Pokemon cards. Not me. My bedtime stories weren't about princesses and animal husbandry, they were cautionary tales about bearded men in aviator sunglasses with windowless vans that I shouldn't get into.

"Dad. the world is still here. You told me the world would be engulfed in nuclear winter by now...and yet, these homo-sapiens persist in their drive for survival... undaunted by the widening class gap and ubiquitous use of the word "tweeting. I'm dissapointed. You lied to me....".........Alas,but who am I to judge you old man? I have more scars than a lion tamer,and more ups and downs than the real estate market...You had it right all along..You may be a chocolate chip cookie, and I may be a Cinnamon raisin cookie, but we are kneaded from the same batter...

Whatcha you looking at? Oh, not like YOU'VE never had a beer out of a Spiderman sippy cup. I have to get up early for the AIDS walk was either this or Children's Nyquil out of a shot glass. Perhaps you envy my predicament, is it because there are floating, beer soaked peach slices in this sippy cup? This is, after all, a Shock Top.....the beer that turns citrus fruits into taste-bud kamikazes.......

Like Forrest Gump, I have been running since I came to the realization that I could. Running away from nothing in particular, and running towards no particular destination at the same time.

I listen to hip-hop alot more these days. Rock these days is a choice between that pretentions hipster crap or the razorblade-in-place-of-a-prize in my breakfast cereal crap. What happened to the jolly punk of yore?Ah, the Adicts.....Sarcasm. Gleeful Madness. There is nothing more candid than pessimism with a smile.

It's like you know you're decaying, yet you do everything you can to stave off the oxidation of those cells of yours...but immortality can't be achieved by prolonging the elasticity of your dermis...only your brain's surplus musings imprinted onto digital format can bring you immortality.

.....and tonight, I was curious about whatever happened to Blink 182??...They were by no means the Beatles of my generation, but at least they used to make me want to release a bunch of wayward doves in an auto dealership doubt to defecate onto Lexuses. (<-"Rock Show") ...........or prank calling some poor chode's wife to inform her that the state looks down on sodomy (<-"What's my age again?").

...But now their lyrics are so fucking depressing. Holy snazzleberry..Doesen't that shit just make you want to coat your body in honey and shoot the nearest beehive with a fully auto BB gun...... or pie Brock Lesnar in the face?...either one would be considered suicide.

I haven't felt like this in ages. I love it.

Somedays. I wish 7-up still contained Lithium......

I'm sorry people, but until Megan Fox has established her acting credentials in legitimatelly noteworthy films ...she is still the poor man's Angelina Jolie. A cheap Louis Vuitton bag knock off.

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