Archive for February, 2006
Offensive Comedy
Feb 27th
Anyone who knows me, even a little bit, knows that I tend to have a perverse sense of humor and love jokes that many would view as offensive. I thought I would share this clip with you since I enjoy it so much. Let me set it up for you:
In this episode of Family, Loretta is cheating on Cleveland with his good friend Quagmire. Peter finds out and suggests that he would be best suited to break the news to Cleveland because of his uncanny ability to deliver bad news as best as possible. They then cut to the following scene exhibiting Peter’s use of this skill in the past. It’s one of my favorite Family Guy clips of all time.
Do you guys and gals any personal favorites you’d like to share? Link to it in a comment and let the fun continue.
Press the play button in the middle of the image to start playback. Requires Flash to be installed. The host is a little slow. may pause every now and then on the first playback.
*The damn embed code causes my page not to validate. We’ll just have to live with it.
The Schizo Dancer
Feb 26th
The Schizo Dancer (2/26/2006)
I can’t help but ride the wave of these psychopathic voices
Steering me away from everybody’s fucking choices
The loneliness rejoices the more that I get cloistered
I tango with the sounds, in my head, all the noises
Cause I can’t seem to avoid this, I can’t fucking escape it
Go ahead and try to rape it, but I hold it fucking sacred
I’m hard to keep the pace with, cause I’m always going backwards
Nobody stops to think and ask me if this crap hurts
Cause I’m walking on my last nerve, my brain, it fights and twitches
The pain holds life in stitches and it tears me til it itches
Flipping through the switches, always keeping me on edge
That’s why I said goodbye and didn’t come to you instead
I lie alone in bed and rewind the words you said
I watch you slowly moving, then you’re pressed against my chest
The signals of distress and the cold glare of my hatred
Just get the fuck away are the words I fucking bade her
It’s not as though I hate her, I wanted it to happen
But every thought of action, the voices held me passive
I danced around attraction to avoid my own prediction
The schizophrenic consequence of mental contradiction
And the gentle proposition of honesty and caring
Struck a chord of fear and admonished me unfairly
The collar that I’m wearing had tightened in confusion
Til oxygen dispersed and a mind fell in delusion
My eyes swell in collusion and everyone disperses
Another chased away without a rhyme or purpose
A million and one churches that pray inside my head
To guide to me to destruction, alive but fucking dead
Notes: I could write what this is about, but I think I’ll leave it up to interpretation. Yes, it’s angsty, but it’s probably the best depiction of what I’m feeling. Seriously.
Inkless Explanation
Feb 24th
Inkless Explanation (2/23/2006)
It’s so funny how this bullshit always seems to go full circle
In one scene I’m being hurt then the next I leave her hurtful
In a sick sense of reversal, I’m still feeling this confusion
It’s like nothing that I do will ever equal retribution
And even restitution, the payback as you call it
Is simply not the case, not the reason that I hault it
I quickly fucking lost it when I felt the spotlight shining
Like suddenly the heat fucking screwed up all my timing
And I knew that you would find me and see my inner person
The guy behind the anger, the rhyming and the cursing
The inner mind I’m versing is best fought on my lonely
I’ve grown to really hate the thought that you would know me
Cause I thought that you’d expose me and pull away the curtains
The shields that I built up to make everything seem certain
The tender wounds I’m nursing to regain my sense of purpose
The strength that I still search for to manage through this circus
But I won’t take all the blame cause I know that it’s for sharing
We both made our own mistakes and we watched the picture tearing
The way you seemed uncaring and ignored me, I’d be speaking
Singing or just laughing and ignoring the real meaning
And it left me feeling heated and just slightly aggravated
I thought that I was wrong and I thought I had to take it
I thought I couldn’t make it through that awkward aggitation
Perhaps it was just me and my normal aggravation
But my scorn’s imagination was simply not the reason
It was honesty before me, no sign of mental treason
The heat had left me freezing and I hated being frozen
So I spun the fucking wheel and stuck to what I’d chosen
And here I am, now open, explaining all my actions
These aren’t my excuses, but the truth about what happened
I tried to remain passive and change me for the better
But a pen without it’s ink could never write a letter
What does it take?
Feb 23rd
This week, at work, I only had 12.5 hours. Next week, I have a total of 5.5 hours. Yes, 5 and a half hours for the entire damn week. I’m not the only one having my hours cut, either. Antonio has 1 hour and someone else (I can’t remember who) has 3.25 hours. Apparently, Best Buy plans on making money simply by not spending it anymore because they sure as hell aren’t planning on selling much without people there to sell it.
This has always been a battle at work. Best Buy is notoriously stingy with hours and it’s only getting worse. I don’t understand it and many people are shocked that they would cut the hours of me, of all people. Now rarely do I gloat or talk about myself in a positive light, but I’m one of the most knowledgeable people in the entire store, not just my department. If there’s a question, I either have the answer or know how to find out quickly. For all of the little pricks who work in the company and lie to the customers, I work just as hard to set thigns straight and be as brutally honest with each customer. I have enough answers and enough reputation to have people from other departments send their customers to me for help. Yep, I’ve helped sell cordless phones, mp3 players, air conditioners, computer accessories and some basic car audio product. All that said, I still have 5 hours next week.
My old senior, Bill, is now working in appliances and keeps asking me to come with him. He’s always liked me and even jokes that he’d ask my advice no matter what the hell he was buying. I talked to him today about possibly coming over there if my hours remain this pathetically low and, it turns out, there may be a position opening up soon. I really don’t want to work in appliances, but I know I need the money and I really don’t want my parents on my back for something I can’t really control. If the next schedule isn’t better, I think I’ll let my home theater manager know that he’s going to lose me unless he steps in and fixes the issue. I’ve been there too long and have done too much to deserve this. I’m not being conceited, I’m simply being honest this time.
What do you guys think? Tough it out and stay in the department I love or suck it up, deal with the agony and head over to appliances?
Lost Inside
Feb 22nd
Lost Inside (2/22/2006)
I sit and try to focus and gather my reflections
I try to find a topic that can hold my own attention
But thoughts race in directions that appear to be conflicting
Until they meet confusion, the traffic they’re inflicting
So I still continue sifting through every god damn subject
Until I get frustrated and ask if it’s enough yet
I just can’t find the nugget, the wealth of inspiration
I’m stuck with tons of nothing and this fucking hesitation
And my fucking lack of patience really isn’t helping
Cause everything I gained seems to be fading and melting
The thoughts that made me wealthy now leaving me in poverty
And, though I hate to say it, I hate it and it bothers me
I loathe it cause it harbors me and leave me here so speechless
I want to fucking write, I can’t stand this cause I need this
Drowning in the pieces of a mind that was so ceaseless
I refuse to just concede it, I’ll fight through ’til I bleed this
I’ll scribble it, you’ll read this, you’ll measure it with meters
Comparing it to others, my works and other pieces
Darting through the screaches that I write in desperation
I do this cause I fiend this though I lack the preparation
But in back of devastation, the addict that you’re seeing
Is a guy without composure and nothing really seething
Clawing for his passion and asking all these questions
Looking for the reasons that he lost site of perfection
And lost all his protection and the layer of his comfort
Asking why he’s feeling just a little bit of some hurt
Struggling for some words to make everything all better
Left with such a sun burn as he stumbles through bad weather
Searching for that letter, perfect rhyme to ease the hunger
Why is he lost inside? That’s the only thing he wonders
What happened to the thunder, the fire that kept burning?
Why is it all regressing? Why must he go on hurting?
Notes: It’s me going on about the chaos and confusion that I’m currently experiencing in my own mind. It’s really affected every part of my life, even my writing. This one gets pretty intense in the middle.
Electrical
Feb 18th
Electrical (2/18/2006)
If we could capture this flow and mix it with explosions
Twisting the notions into elixirs and potions
Burning emotions, riding flames through the motions
Feeding the rage along the roads that we’ve chosen
Then we could walk right on the stage and cause some commotion
And they’d believe what we say because of our own devotion
This damn simple notion of a passion and fury
Energy to convict us without the need for a jury
Words churned in a flury making me seem a bit crazy
Even when they appear hazy they always tend to embrace me
And when my heart’s pumping and racing, still nothing can phase me
I spit out the fire and pray that maybe you’ll hate me
Then you’ll step up to take me and attempt to upset me
Spitting out a few lines in a weak try out best me
And that’s when you’ll get me and understand the conviction
The drive of a mind that lacks the time for your fiction
Cause every rhyme’s my nutrition and my reason for living
Plug into the outlet and take in what I’m giving
The hate is my thread, my mind’s a needle for knitting
The electrical sweater that always seems to be fitting
And the steam’s never quitting, you can call me a hot head
But the ball hasn’t dropped yet and the counter say “not yet”
So, I won’t move from this spot yet cause it feels so damn comfy
And the way that you curse me makes me know that you love me
Though, before this is nothing, let’s turn this valve to silence
Let the heat start to build until my next bout with violence
But I urge you to try this, shit, you can sell it in bottles
The electrical rage with this current to follow
Notes: It’s a little indirect, but it’s supposed to be. In a way, it’s a depiction of the anger I often feel. However, instead of condemning it, I cherish it and recommend that everyone give it a try to get a better understanding of my writing.
Adelphi Tragedy….Loss of a Trooper
Feb 18th
It is with great sadness that I come to you today with some tragic news. Adelphi University, a school I don’t attend and haven’t stolen base pads from, has lost one of it’s own this past week. Cheddar de poisson was a kindred spirit. A goldfish by birth, he knew no bounds and proudly stood as mascot for the Operations and Conference staff for five whole years. Cheddar, as he liked to be called, had a hunger for life…..and anything else that may have seemed somewhat edible. His fins may have given up, but his lust for life never will. He will be missed, but never mourned. Rest in Peace Cheddar de poisson and may God be with you.
Last Picture of Cheddar:
Division
Feb 18th
Division (2/18/2006)
I think it’s time I said this and we had a little talk now
The confusion was a wall but now I’ve seen it fall down
I need to get it all out and lift this from my shoulders
There’s plenty there to bear and this needs to find some closure
Cause way back in October when you chose to leave me hanging
My back against the wall on which my head was banging
I chose to take my life in and examine the whole picture
Looking over every inch of the book of my soul’s scripture
And I saw the very fixtures, the friends that stuck beside me
The few people never fading and always there to guide me
Honest, never lying, and never leaving me there stranded
And when I saw this all, I could clearly understand it
That this wasn’t how I planned it, but it’s how it chose to happen
I was now outside the hole that I once felt I was trapped in
And it reinvoked the passion and gave me hope to mend this
I was back upon my feet with a glow inside each sentence
And I know to cherish friendship and this girl I’ve had my eye on
But that girl’s no longer you because you never kept your light on
When I stumbled through the darkness, you were simply never there
Yet, Joseph and Diana and Maria always cared
This isn’t meant to hurt you, please don’t think it’s my intention
It’s been killing me to say this, but I can’t hold my disgression
You’ve made your own confession and now it’s time that I did
Maria is the girl that’s the reason that I write this
Cause I can’t sit here and fight this, she’s the someone I desire
The dream that I have worked for and the step to bring me higher
And even through the trials and the difficult obstructions
These feelings never waivered, never fell to interuption
But slowly we’ve constructed something you and I just couldn’t
Well, something that I tried for, but something that you wouldn’t
Now every thought says “shouldn’t” but I know I have to right this
I’m sorry, but I mean it, or else I wouldn’t write this
So let’s settle in this silence, let life just fucking guide us
Two people never matched well, their minds just couldn’t find this
Wandering through vibrance, rarely sharing the same vision
Blinded by the light that would lead them to division
Price of Publicity
Feb 16th
So, I want to write, yet I don’t have a flow. I guess that means you people are going to be stuck reading a journal entry.
Let’s get all the usual stuff out of the way, first. Yesterday, I became extremely ill. In a 4 hour time period, starting at 1:30am, I vomitted 10 times. It was like a slot machine that just keeps giving you quarters. One quarter went in and about 6 million came out, each time. That is, until my body ran out of quarters, then I simply had the lovely pleasure of dry heaving. I was bed ridden almost all day until about 8pm, or so, when I finally decided to deal with the swirling world and get up. All this, mind you, was accompanied by extreme back pain and the return of my good old friend, the back spasm. The back pain is still lingering about today.
In between losing my stomach and twitching/screaming in pain, I had some time to think (TV made me dizzy, so I was forced to think). This site is kind of funny, in a way. When I first started, I was pretty blunt with what I said and who I said it about. No one read it and no one seemed to care. Times change, though, and the site gets a decent amount of people stopping by now. The problem is, those very people are the ones I wish to talk about sometimes. Who pissed me off? Who did something incredibly stupid? All things I need to vent at one point or another, but I can’t. People get upset and complain and complain and then complain some more. So what does that leave me? I have to use my poems and lyrics to disguise who I’m talking about while still getting it out. Hell, most people don’t realize a poem is about them until I explicitly tell them it is. The thing is, it’s not as satisfying. That, or I’m just not creative enough. How do I write about someones minute abnormaility? Sure, it’s easy to pick out a huge flaw and go on and on about it, but the small ones never give enough body. Say, for instance, you’re trying to speak and someone just randomly bursts into song? How do you write about that for more than a few lines? You can’t or, at least, I can’t. I want people to stop by and hear what I have to say, yet I don’t want them to all the time. That’s a bit retarded on my part. Go figure.
Oops, I did it again. It doesn’t rhyme this time, though.
Questions From Inside (Why?)
Feb 13th
Questions From Inside (Why?) [2/12/2006]
I choke on the air as it burns up my lungs
The panic attack, let me swallow this gun
And end it all here, let me die out in color
One for them all and no love for another
Why…
Why…
Why won’t you leave me and go away?
Why can’t you see me and choke on this hate?
Why doesn’t anyone listen to scripture?
Why won’t the truth fucking censor this picture?
I twitch in my skin cause this suit doesn’t fit me
The people around me, the platform to lift me
I need to escape from the broadcasting signal
Covered in loathing to keep it all simple
Why…
Why…
Why won’t you leave me and go away?
Why can’t you see me and choke on this hate?
Why doesn’t anyone listen to scripture?
Why won’t the truth fucking censor this picture?
Why…
Why…
Why…
Why…
I’ve grown in a shell and I’m comfortable in hiding
No people around me, nobody there lying
I’ve grown in this hell and I’m comfortable in dying
Alone in this world with nobody for lying
Why won’t you leave me and go away?
Why can’t you see me and choke on this hate?
Why doesn’t anyone listen to scripture?
Why won’t the truth fucking censor this picture?
Why
Why won’t you leave me?!
Why
Why can’t you see me!?
Why
Why can’t you choke on this hate?!
Why
Why don’t you listen to me…..
Notes: I’m not sure how to describe the sound of it. It’s heavy, but heavy rock, not metal. I guess it could be compared, somewhat, to something like Breaking Benjamin or a band I’ve recently discovered, 10 Years. It’s sort of a mix, though. It’s probably the style I would choose to go with if I were in a band.
