Not going to lie to you all, blogging is pretty fucking stupid. I find myself juggling ideas like "how do I make a giant tomato monster bust into a burger joint for some ironic revenge?" That's the kind of thing that means you are wasting your life by most estimations.
The blog makes me work harder than ever before at my day job because I am hoping to do something that matters somewhere else than inside of my apartment. I'm always writing in the dark with a hood on, nobody comes over because nobody wants to. I take a jerk off break every 45 minutes or so. Kind of fucks up the actual workflow. And leads to a non insignificant level of soreness.
Blogging is a very isolating experience. Sure it's practice for what I want to spend the rest of my life on, but being alone with it all the time reminds me of how alone I am in this life. I'm not too keen on being alone with my thoughts when they stray into the territory of "Why do I go on living this unexamined life?" I prefer to giggle to myself about the prospects of a Godzilla sized taco fighting a Godzilla sized tofu taco.
But I can't always get to that realm. Sometimes I'm stuck in the bullshit world of not wanting to go anywhere, do anything, but still thinking about what I should do, or should be doing. Then regretting it all but doing nothing. So, I'm wasting my fucking time thinking about how I'm wasting my fucking time. And in the end, mostly just wasting my fucking seed and my fucking tissues.
I am proud of my blog and I've enjoyed writing it for the most part. Sometimes I wish I could do more than just make a few people laugh on the internet. Maybe I could solve world hunger by building a two Godzilla sized tacos, one of ground beef and the other of tofu. I could accomplish two great goals, put on the greatest show ever witnessed and feed millions of starving people. Then all the inadequacy issues that have haunted me my whole life would just waft away. Nothing like an impossible fantasy to distract you from your crushing reality.
At first I was trying to monetize this thing and then try to make my living at it. But that just seems impossible honestly. Nobody wants to click a fucking clickbank link. Nobody wants to try any of that shit and I don't feel good about pushing it on people. I'm the only one that has clicked my Amazon ads and that was only to make sure that they were working. So maybe I need a new strategy for that kind of thing. Or maybe I should just write jokes and shut the fuck up about money. If someone thinks that I'm good enough, then I'll get paid. I'm not good or experienced enough yet, so that hasn't happened. There is no point in me trying to hork worthless shit onto my audience like a sleazy used car salesman.
I was hoping that this blog could be one aspect of my body of work as a comedian. I think it still will, because I have already made up my mind to devote the rest of my life to comedy and show business. I love laughter and making people laugh is my only goal. So if I stopped the blog it would not fix anything or make me feel any better about anything, it would be totally stupid. But a voice inside of me does say "Nah just quit dude, you suck we both know it." By that logic, if I really wanted to lose weight I guess I'd blog from a communist nation or the third world. Maybe starving to death would help me to appreciate my world a little better.
I'm not going to stop writing on this blog. I love it and I appreciate the people who read it. I have been in a rut like you wouldn't believe lately, so here's to getting out of that. If I can't climb out of it on my own, I'll go to the old stand by, 3 White Russians in the morning and 4 rounds of Scotch at night. Good night, Miss, good night. Or good morning, whenever you read this, here is an implied friendly greeting for whatever the fuck time it is where you are.
Book Review: Common Sense (1776)
My copy of this book had an introduction that was like 20 pages long, so that's a huge minus in points. After that there was Thomas Paine's introduction. So this book is basically unreadable.
First paragraph is about abuses of power and the evils of tyranny. Paine seems worried that his words won't be "fashionable". Well what was in fashion for the day was slavery. American independence didn't do away with that so, this is already kind of reading like a propaganda pamphlet.
He mentions that as a colony grows it has to have a more limited parliament because the concerns of the public will be many and mostly trifling. I only know trifling as a way of describing hoes that apparently cheat on their boyfriends and then talk on the phone with them afterwards. They also appear to allow the man they cheated with to record the experience and post it online. The source that I'm citing there is porn.
There is some pointless rambling about how people are greeted in the book. I thought this book was supposed to be about guns, burgers and bald eagles. Isn't that what they mean by "American Classic"?
When I think American classic, I should be hearing the national anthem and be on the verge of dropping a little red white and blue tear. Not wading through page after page of complaints. Thomas Paine seems like the kind of guy that would call customer service and bitch them out over nothing and then demand a refund. Then he'd start his own company in the same niche.
Paine felt the need to include his accounting homework for the British navy. Americans do not count other country's battleships unless we are keeping a running tally of how many we've blown up. Read this book if you want to learn more about the forming of our country, but definitely not for entertainment.
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First paragraph is about abuses of power and the evils of tyranny. Paine seems worried that his words won't be "fashionable". Well what was in fashion for the day was slavery. American independence didn't do away with that so, this is already kind of reading like a propaganda pamphlet.
He mentions that as a colony grows it has to have a more limited parliament because the concerns of the public will be many and mostly trifling. I only know trifling as a way of describing hoes that apparently cheat on their boyfriends and then talk on the phone with them afterwards. They also appear to allow the man they cheated with to record the experience and post it online. The source that I'm citing there is porn.
There is some pointless rambling about how people are greeted in the book. I thought this book was supposed to be about guns, burgers and bald eagles. Isn't that what they mean by "American Classic"?
When I think American classic, I should be hearing the national anthem and be on the verge of dropping a little red white and blue tear. Not wading through page after page of complaints. Thomas Paine seems like the kind of guy that would call customer service and bitch them out over nothing and then demand a refund. Then he'd start his own company in the same niche.
Paine felt the need to include his accounting homework for the British navy. Americans do not count other country's battleships unless we are keeping a running tally of how many we've blown up. Read this book if you want to learn more about the forming of our country, but definitely not for entertainment.
Click here if you've heard about the keto diet and you want to give it a try: https://08561b-6nhxcuavjsd2kup5k3c.hop.clickbank.net/
Click on any of these if you want to enjoy some legendary comedy:
Video Game Review: Resident Evil: Umbrella Chronicles and Darkside Chronicles Wii (2007 & 2009)
Both games are light gun games that you can play with a friend. They are supposed to flesh out the story from Resident Evil games that came before resident evil 4 I believe. If I wanted a history lesson I would consult my former uninterested high school history teacher about the historical context of Marcus Aurelius's Meditations. But I don't want a history lesson and these games are ass.
The thing I love about a light gun game is being able to shoot a lot of targets in a short amount of time with a good degree of intensity. The zombies do not die quick enough. Sure you can kill them in one shot with a head shot sometimes, but not all of the time. I want it to work every time so I can go racing through your levels. I think the action in these games would excite only my aforementioned history teacher who probably works as a security guard on the weekend. I'm saying that because he was fat and boring. That's pretty much it. That also summarizes what I think of security guards.
You can enjoy anything that you do with a friend. That's about it for these games. You could probably have a good time trying to build your own coffee machine with a friend. You might even enjoy building your own meth lab with a friend, but that doesn't mean that you should do either or play these games.
Jack Krauser is in Darkside Chronicles, so that's a big plus. Krauser in these games is like going to a friend's house where all they have is cabbage soup and a spectacular dessert. The desert was great, but it wasn't really worth dealing with the smell and flavor of the cabbage soup. Krauser is that desert.
These games could give you a good degree of nostalgia if you love Resident Evil, or if you loved these games when they came out. But they just move too slowly for me. They might convey the frantic action tone they were going for if I had french fries seasoned with Carolina Reaper dust right before playing them.
I've always pretty much hated these games, because back in the day Capcom, the folks who made these games hinted that they might make a Wii exclusive game that would play like Resident Evil 4. Re4 is my favorite game of all time and was back then too. So I had my hopes way up high for that game and then they gave us two average light gun games instead. I'm still salty about it and that will probably never change.
The thing I love about a light gun game is being able to shoot a lot of targets in a short amount of time with a good degree of intensity. The zombies do not die quick enough. Sure you can kill them in one shot with a head shot sometimes, but not all of the time. I want it to work every time so I can go racing through your levels. I think the action in these games would excite only my aforementioned history teacher who probably works as a security guard on the weekend. I'm saying that because he was fat and boring. That's pretty much it. That also summarizes what I think of security guards.
You can enjoy anything that you do with a friend. That's about it for these games. You could probably have a good time trying to build your own coffee machine with a friend. You might even enjoy building your own meth lab with a friend, but that doesn't mean that you should do either or play these games.
Jack Krauser is in Darkside Chronicles, so that's a big plus. Krauser in these games is like going to a friend's house where all they have is cabbage soup and a spectacular dessert. The desert was great, but it wasn't really worth dealing with the smell and flavor of the cabbage soup. Krauser is that desert.
These games could give you a good degree of nostalgia if you love Resident Evil, or if you loved these games when they came out. But they just move too slowly for me. They might convey the frantic action tone they were going for if I had french fries seasoned with Carolina Reaper dust right before playing them.
I've always pretty much hated these games, because back in the day Capcom, the folks who made these games hinted that they might make a Wii exclusive game that would play like Resident Evil 4. Re4 is my favorite game of all time and was back then too. So I had my hopes way up high for that game and then they gave us two average light gun games instead. I'm still salty about it and that will probably never change.
Shot Glass Thought: My Cooked and Flipped Mushrooms
Flipping mushrooms in a hot pan over the stove is one of my favorite things to do. I can't actually cook much of anything, but I can add olive oil, salt and pepper and a bunch of mushrooms together. A chef that I worked with in the past taught me how to flip the contents of the pan without spilling them everywhere. So yeah, sometimes my lunch is just cooked mushrooms with salt, pepper and olive oil. I guess where I am in culinary skills is the same place that all great cooks start at. They surpassed my level in a couple hours of work, and I've been at this level for about 3 years. They cook thousands of meals without ever making anyone sick, I make myself sick once per month. But I don't make myself sick all that often anymore, because I have limited myself to making salads and cooked/flipped mushrooms. Those two can't cross contaminate no matter what. Unless you have introduced raw meat to the equation at some point, but I won't be doing that. I once made myself sick by eating mushrooms that had gone bad. I threw out the icky ones and kept the "good ones". Well the good ones were bad too and I was super sick because of it. So now I cook/flip all the mushrooms in three days. That way there is no chance that they go bad on me. I have a hard time rationing them out in even amounts. So usually there is one day that is the great mushroom feast and two other days that are the mushroom side dish. I totally recommend cooked and flipped mushrooms, they are the ones that you get at the green section of the grocery store. I don't know what that looks like where you live, but it's green where I live.
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Shot Glass Thought: Hug Your Pets For Dear Life
I have a 100% click through rate on videos where kittens are introduced to golden retrievers. I don't upload any of that content anywhere, I just always click it when I see it. Golden retrievers are the best and I will befriend another one one day. But isn't introducing fragile kittens to any dog kind of a risk? I have a pretty high click through rate on videos where kittens are introduced to any kind of dog. Probably a 97% click through rate. It's a sub genre of cuteness that I'm really into. You could say that I'm an expert on it at this point. Obviously the videos I like wouldn't be on Youtube if the dog flew into a rage and rended the kitties limb from limb. That would be something on the Dark Web I imagine. I've never been on there so I don't know what the articles and videos are titled like. Would you call that "Man's Best Friend Solves Kitten Infestation"? Some sick fuck out there knows the answer. But that's the world we live in, we just gotta hug our dogs and kitties even harder than before and pretty much hang on for dear life. Hopefully the monster that is out there feeding kittens to fight dogs isn't your neighbor or your most recent Tinder match.
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Shot Glass Thought: Stretching My Hands
I've really taken to stretching my hands. I enjoy doing it because it helps me to comfortably produce lot's of content and it feels good. You would think at first glance that bending your fingers backwards towards your chest would not feel good, but it's the kind of thing that you warm up to. It's just one of those simple human experiences that kind of complement your existence. It will be like in the future when my hands get melted off in a space ship incident, I'll be able to have robotic hands put on. I'll be able to say "well at least I don't have to stretch them anymore." The robotically enhanced hands will help me but they won't make what it is to be human any different. I'll probably be able to enjoy Niagara Falls the same amount, robotic hands or nah. But yeah, stretching them and having them sore from time to time doesn't make me want to melt them off my any means. At some point I'll be doing stand up and I don't want to be the guy with a headset and two nubs. Always making awkward sex jokes. Although I'll definitely be making awkward sex jokes, just not the kind where I'm putting one of my nubs up some broad's cunt.
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Comedy Story: You Can Leave My Life
I am not ever going to change who I am at my core. The restaurant menu at the core of my soul has no room for modifications, alterations or the mixing of unrelated menu items into one chef's nightmare. My menu cannot be changed for women, friends or loud mouthed Baptist preachers. They can all believe that I'm going to Hell, what they believe doesn't matter. How you are perceived doesn't matter when it comes right down to brass tax. I know what I've done and who I really am, that's all that matters. When I tell you that I want to marry the real life equivalent of the character Ada Wong from the Resident Evil series, you know that I'm a crazy person. But I am a crazy person that I can live with.
I am a repellent for liars and fakes that can't tolerate knowing what they are. If you want someone who will cater to you and your fragile ego then I'm just not the guy. I tell the truth about myself, I'm not going to then turn right around and buy the bullshit that you spout about yourself. Being friends with me when you are like that is like having an insatiable appetite for McDonald's breakfast while also having positively no tolerance for stomach pain. It's just not going to work.
I am really very much alone in my walk through life. Alone when being with someone means being able to tolerate bullshit. I've already had experiences with the best people out there. I remember what it was like when I didn't have to listen to drunken blabbering at 2am from some alcoholic broad that thinks she takes care of an old woman that doesn't need her. How do I know that one doesn't need the other? Well the old lady kicked the young lady out for six months. If you take care of someone, but they don't need you for six months, then you don't take care of them. I took care of my grandmother for 3 years and if I would have left her for 6 months, at any time, she would have been dead when I got back. That's just how dementia works. You can't lie to me and if you do, and then I find out about it, then you won't lie to me again. I've already known the best people, and they don't do that shit.
I do have an understanding of what makes people tick and I know what makes me tick. If you can't tolerate someone who operates with that information and is willing to say it all out loud, then I am not for you. Being with me is like adding a full bottle of angostura bitters to a caramel macchiato. If you don't know what angostura bitters taste like, well they are bitters. So they taste a bit bitter and that is what I am. If you're a caramel macchiato then you don't want bitter in you, period.
Yes I hurt feelings all the time, I have been called evil, I've been slapped, punched, knocked out, spit on, attacked with knives and shot at. I am hated by some people. But I don't care. I can live with myself and that's all that matters. I am a guy who can start out on a mission to make myself a delicious Belgian waffle and end up googling how to treat 3rd degree burns from mishandling my coffee machine. My clumsiness has nothing to do with what I've been talking about here, but my hand still really fucking hurts.
I will never change, when I'm shot or stabbed to death or whatever it is, I won't go into that last good night ashamed or embarrassed by the way that I've lived, because I was honest. It would be far more likely that I would drink myself to death on accident. That last line makes me hope that my mother doesn't read this material. All that I have done, I have done it my way. If tomorrow I was convinced that apple butter makes the best hair gel, I'd probably not live and die by that one small aspect of life. But I would need some serious proof to refute my belief about apple butter as hair gel. I would also need someone to test the new theory for me as I am bald. The point of all this rambling was to make someone out there laugh. But also to remind any of those that thought that a few mean texts or a slap or punch or whatever you thought would end me, will not end me. You can leave, I don't care. People want to be around me, there will never not be more of those people.
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I am a repellent for liars and fakes that can't tolerate knowing what they are. If you want someone who will cater to you and your fragile ego then I'm just not the guy. I tell the truth about myself, I'm not going to then turn right around and buy the bullshit that you spout about yourself. Being friends with me when you are like that is like having an insatiable appetite for McDonald's breakfast while also having positively no tolerance for stomach pain. It's just not going to work.
I am really very much alone in my walk through life. Alone when being with someone means being able to tolerate bullshit. I've already had experiences with the best people out there. I remember what it was like when I didn't have to listen to drunken blabbering at 2am from some alcoholic broad that thinks she takes care of an old woman that doesn't need her. How do I know that one doesn't need the other? Well the old lady kicked the young lady out for six months. If you take care of someone, but they don't need you for six months, then you don't take care of them. I took care of my grandmother for 3 years and if I would have left her for 6 months, at any time, she would have been dead when I got back. That's just how dementia works. You can't lie to me and if you do, and then I find out about it, then you won't lie to me again. I've already known the best people, and they don't do that shit.
I do have an understanding of what makes people tick and I know what makes me tick. If you can't tolerate someone who operates with that information and is willing to say it all out loud, then I am not for you. Being with me is like adding a full bottle of angostura bitters to a caramel macchiato. If you don't know what angostura bitters taste like, well they are bitters. So they taste a bit bitter and that is what I am. If you're a caramel macchiato then you don't want bitter in you, period.
Yes I hurt feelings all the time, I have been called evil, I've been slapped, punched, knocked out, spit on, attacked with knives and shot at. I am hated by some people. But I don't care. I can live with myself and that's all that matters. I am a guy who can start out on a mission to make myself a delicious Belgian waffle and end up googling how to treat 3rd degree burns from mishandling my coffee machine. My clumsiness has nothing to do with what I've been talking about here, but my hand still really fucking hurts.
I will never change, when I'm shot or stabbed to death or whatever it is, I won't go into that last good night ashamed or embarrassed by the way that I've lived, because I was honest. It would be far more likely that I would drink myself to death on accident. That last line makes me hope that my mother doesn't read this material. All that I have done, I have done it my way. If tomorrow I was convinced that apple butter makes the best hair gel, I'd probably not live and die by that one small aspect of life. But I would need some serious proof to refute my belief about apple butter as hair gel. I would also need someone to test the new theory for me as I am bald. The point of all this rambling was to make someone out there laugh. But also to remind any of those that thought that a few mean texts or a slap or punch or whatever you thought would end me, will not end me. You can leave, I don't care. People want to be around me, there will never not be more of those people.
Click here if you have a hobby that you would like to turn into a business: https://e8b2fa0bng3qzbv8xafqmnbo9p.hop.clickbank.net/
Click here if you would like to hear one of my favorite songs: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RGp5fY5zyX4
Click on any of these if you want to enjoy some legendary comedy:
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