Eternal Sunset of The Spotty Mind

First I’d like to share that I’m going through some insane hormonal shit or something.  I’m having violent mood swings and it’s seriously affecting my life.  In the last five minutes I’ve been in love with two different women, wanted to murder four different people, decided to move to three different places, and have considered voluntary celibacy (as opposed to the involuntary kind I adhere to now).  I’m also having hot flashes which leads me to believe that this is what menopause is like.  Fuck you too.  I would blow Phillip Morris right now if he could stop this madness.

My sister and I rarely talk about relationships, I think mostly because we don’t want to know what kind of strange things the other has done with strange people, like me blowing Phillip Morris, which I’m sure is not a real person.  But last night in my confusion, we talked about it (and with Maureen Dowd’s help) we have concluded that in NYC, relationships are built to fail.  We live our lives with our foot on the pedal, always looking for the better job, always looking for the better apartment, always looking for the better relationship.  Even when you’re happy, you’re always keeping your eye out for that next thing.  With relationships, there will always be someone who seems better.  In fact there’s always someone who IS better.  Even John John’s wife before she bit it, I bet she occasionally saw some dude and went "Hmmm…"  It’s a numbers game and unless you’re willing to roll the dice a million times and take the losses and rejections, then your odds get better, though that takes some iron guts and strong will to play it like that.  50% percent divorce rate?  Check out my previous post comparing relationship probabilities with baseball averages.  Life ain’t fair.  But keep in mind our parents are to blame for setting the precedent, so please call your parents tonight and tell them Ted is utterly alone and it’s all their fault.

Also, I just want to tell all you fellow men that although we’re all on the same team and are going through this together, quit being creepy to my sister!  Freaks.  I’ll fucking kill you in a way that it’ll take eight months to die and they’ll never identify your cooked remains.

Speaking of creeps, Alito is in.  Greenspan is out and Bernanke is in.  I think I should go bald, then I can get a badass job…

Lastly, Coretta Scott King, Dr. ML King’s widow, died.  (Seen here on the left looking like a hottie.)  Talk about badass.  Why couldn’t we get her into the Supreme Court?  I believe in Dr. King’s dreams although I don’t think it’ll happen the way he thinks it will; if it doesn’t happen from comedy, it will happen when all our great grandkids look Phillipino.  I especially love his dream about me buying the Mets.  Or was that my dream?

Peace.

The brilliant playwright Wendy Wasserstein passed away today from lymphoma.  I know I wrote earlier today that you should cheer up, so take a moment of silence, take a deep breath, and remember that she said this: "Don’t live down to expectations. Go out there and do something remarkable."

So get up from your computer and go do it!

And just so this post don’t end up all morose: The late great Ms. Wasserstein also said "No matter how lonely you get or how many birth announcements you receive, the trick is not to get frightened. There’s nothing wrong with being alone."  Well I say I’d rather have multiple personality disorder than be alone.  (Ba dum bum.)

Now give me a cigarette or the bunny gets it.

Apologies for that last post.  I had to swing my sack around this weekend and assert my "king of the jungle" and since I’m really not that guy, it felt quite good.

Apparently this past week and this week are the two most depressing weeks of the year (it’s evident in the faces of the people around me), so let me just say: "Life’s a garden, dig it."  It’s all roadblocks.  Knock ‘em down.

My first time linked to a real blog!  Who knew?  The Procrastinator’s Toolbox!  Check it out.  Truly weird stuff on that site…

The title for this post should actually read OUR Hegemonic Party.  We’re having a Valentine’s Party so I suggest you be there or be chastised by me.

Alpha Dog says "ruff RUFF!"

I hate Valentine’s Day.  I think the last time I had someone at Valentine’s was about 4 years ago when I was dating this waitress so she was working late and I never got to see her.

Fucking commercials, drugstores, everything pisses me off.  They should just call it "Desirable People’s Day" since they’re alienating people anyway and then the next week have "Undesirable People’s Day" when all us ugly single folk can get together and throw a real celebration.

And fuck Hallmark.

Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue.

I just spent the day locked in my apartment because the deadbolt on our door broke.  Not that I was planning to go anywhere, but it was weird.  I felt like Tom Cruise going crazy in that dorm room in Taps.  Or like Tom Cruise going crazy in that closet.  Sorry for not posting in a while, for those of you bored at your jobs or weird enough to RSS this crap, as I have been very busy.

I quit smoking Saturday morning.  That last cigarette was so bittersweet.  Now I’m losing my damn mind since my body is detoxing.

It seems now that I always want something.  I obviously want nicotine, but since I can’t have it I want pork, an XBOX, a career, a woman, a slave, a midget, a free ride, slipper socks, and a muffin.  There’s no rhyme or reason, I just want.  Ah, if only a single female midget would walk into my room with a slippers, an XBOX and a muffin with a lit cigarette jammed in it, I could die right now.  I timed this very badly cus I have a final tomorrow evening and focus is evading me.

I’m jittery but I’m tired.  I’m wired but unable to take advantage of it because it’s aimless and hard to focus.  But strangely I’m also feeling lethargic and constantly sleepy.  My bubble gum cigarettes just arrived in the mail in the hopes that it’ll relieve the manual and oral issues.  Sloppy oral sex would be ideal but I can’t rightly order that off of the internet.  Actually, I can but it’s out of my budget.

It’s amazing how as soon as I stopped putting tar and nicotine into my system, the crap is being ejected out of my body.  Every few hours, I cough up this giant escargot, kinda like Wooldoor’s sperm in Drawn Together.  It’s quite lovely and horrifying at the same time.  I was saving the loogies and laying them out on my floor to see what a town of shell-less snails would look like, but I kept slipping on them.  This whole experience blows.  I’m such a quitter…

I won’t go to heaven, but it looks like I won’t be alone on the long line to hell.  You know it’s a shitty day when you wake up in a good mood, have a good BM and you check the paper and find that the apocalypse is coming, or God is at least really pissed off at someone.

1. Sharon had a huge stroke.  He’s not my favorite guy in the world what with the Israeli political field being a complete mess but this certainly doesn’t help anyone.
2. All but one of those miners died and now the one survivor has major drain bamage.  I wouldn’t be surprised if Bush uses this tragedy as an excuse to push conflict in the middle east, cus it’s much better if Iraqis die for natural power resources than if our own die for the same.  Fuck coal.  Only those beatnik French use coal.
3. A hostel collapsed near Mecca where a bunch of guys were gathering for Hajj.
4. Bombers in Iraq and Afghanistan killed a bunch of people, again.
5. Bush is a twat.  (And that is not meant to be redundant.)

Now if I were a paranoid conspiracy theorist, which I am, one could see this as being like one of those chapters in the bible where God is all "Get your shit together right now, or I’m gonna do to you what I did to the Sodomites.  Or at least I’m gonna do to you what the Sodomites did to each other." 

But just to show that I’m not an alarmist, here’s some news bites that gives a glimmer of hope to all humanity: Fox is trying to bring back Futurama and Lindsay Lohan proved us all right by admitting she used drugs and was bulimic.

See?  God doesn’t hate us all.  Be happy.

And see ya in hell!  I’ll save us a table as far from eternal hellfire as possible.

I’m having my period. Let me explain. Every couple of
months I get all moody and emotional and voluntarily watch post-lip-op Meg Ryan
movies. I first noticed this current
one when I was watching To Kill a Mockingbird for the ninetieth time and got
weepish when Boo showed up. Now I can’t
stop watching cheesy ass movies and reading Yeats. But I’m also on a really short fuse and ready to kill anyone who
disturbs my cocoon of a life. Someone
bring me some herbal tea and some Pamprin and I’ll turn on Frankie &
Johnny, that movie where an unwanted Michelle Pfeiffer (yeah, right) falls in
love with that gruff midget ex-con chef.

Do not be fooled: Men do have periods. Ours just happens to not be a side effect of
a physical process.  And therefore, as my man Wook
always says, “We can’t discharge.” I’ve
heard it referred to as a man-period, but I prefer to call it a testeriod.

How to treat a testeriod? I’m not sure but I’m researching it, though not in a very scientific
manner. One thing that has consistently
worked is a combination of malt liquor and Red Dawn. I’m giving exercise a shot but it’s hard cus
I think I’m also retaining water. If
any of y’all nerds out there work in bio-whatever, you should research
this. It’s like Nobel Prize material
and shit.

A few random shiznit tidbits:

• First, a shout out to Tyler Warren cus I stole that Hulk drawing from him.
• I was a Kristen Chenoweth fan. No more. What the fuck is
  she doing in those Old Navy commercials? I guess a Tony Award and a successful theater career means nothing
  compared to instant recognition. Too
  bad all she managed to do is replace that creepy lady with the huge glasses as
  “the Old Navy chick.” Now I hear she’s
  making a Dusty Springfield movie, which is like casting Michael Clarke Duncan
  as Freddie Mercury.
• Those coal miners are still trapped underground. What century are we in again?
• Speaking of Boo and miners, whatever happened to Doo?
• Yeats said "if a powerful and benevolent spirit has shaped the destiny of this world, we can better discover that destiny from the words that have gathered up the heart’s desire of the world."  Two words instantly come to  mind: da butt.