Hi.

My apologies if you’ve felt fleeced due to a shortage of posts. My responsibilities have combined to render me useless at the end of finals.

What does that me to me, E?

Pardon me for using my blog that is all about me and my awesomeness to waste it talking about you and your lameness.* Chivalry requires I answer your mindless question. It may mean more postings for you to savor, it may mean an added dosage of anti-depressants for you after reading the posts, it may mean that I verbally destroy you time and time again. A hodgepodge of magical options, each one as appealing as the last.

-Side note- my mind is offline for 7 months until I start dental school. I don’t need it until then and will conserve the few remaining brain cells I have until school requires their reactivation. Posts may reflect this causality.

What will I do if you don’t post regularly, E?

Again with the you business? Why waste time talking about you when you can read about me? To answer your question, I would hope you die an ignominious death leaving your name a thing of revulsion and displeasure. That when your name is uttered the only appropriate response is to spit and murmur curse words under one’s breath.

*Actually that is mainly what my blog is about. Talking shit about you. Face!

Game show fun.

We pick up the scene of our protagonist on some game show that has never been created…

Me: …I am of course referencing the boom chicky wow wow.

Game Show Host: Let’s see what our panel of judges think, judges?

Judges: Fail.

Me: Shit!!!

Female Contestant: Yeah that was pretty weak, dude. You have done nothing but disappoint me since I’ve met you. [shaking head]

Me: Thank you. Does it get lonely sitting atop your cloud of judgment as you rain judgments down on people you suppose are beneath you? Let’s get a ruling on that comment, judges??

Judges: Solid.

Me: Judges, I respect and trust your abilities. All of you are tributes to your craft. I am in awe. Thank you.

Female Contestant: You are a douche bag of unequaled proportions.

Me: Are you trying to get in my pants?

Female Contestant: No! Hell no! There is no way I am going to the hospital for back surgery after trying to hoist that hog out of them. My back is not a crane.

Me: You understand my struggle. Your empathy is appreciated.

Female Contestant: You misunderstood. I do not have any empathy for you.

Me: Explain.

Female Contestant: I empathize for the girls you get with.

Me: Of course. The only muscles more powerful than my love muscle are my back and legs that bear the burden of toting this monster around. Let’s not forget my heart that has the massive undertaking of filling it full of blood when I become aroused.

Female Contestant: With that much blood flowing to your loins, doesn’t that leave the rest of your body highly susceptible to infarction?

Me: Very much so. The delicate balance of blood distribution is a precise science that I alone have mastered. My life is on the line with each encounter.

Female Contestant: You are so brave.

Me: All in a day’s work. How’s about we go put my life on the line?

Female Contestant: I thought you’d never ask.

Me: I didn’t really. I knew what you were thinking. I sincerely hope this is the only time timidness ever manifests itself.

Female Contestant: You have my word…and my body and whatever else you want.

Me: Let’s not ruin the mood with desperation, okay?

Game Show Host: Uhhh really guys? We’ve got the rest of the show to do here.

Me: Yes really, Guy Smiley. Now be gone before you soon find the need to crap a microphone. Leave the cameras.

Staying Power

Prostitution, the oldest profession alive. Talk about job security. No fear of getting laid off. Did you see what I did there? Genius is what I did there. I love being me and not being you.

This happens more than I care to admit.

Me: You’re really starting to agitate me. Why don’t you sit down and have a Coke and a smile.
Person: I don’t drink Coke.
Me: It’s of no consequence. What I politely meant was shut the f@*# up so do that now.
Person: You’re impolite.
Me: A very astute observation. Do you find your keen sense useful?
Person: Quite.
Me: Observe this then, my son. [flipping the bird] How do you feel about that?
Person: Not good.
Me: The desired outcome was achieved.
Person: Why do you do that?
Me: I do it out of love. Not love for you obviously but for others.
Person: I don’t get it.
Me: Not surprising.
Person: What’s happening here? Why are you having a fictional conversation with yourself?
Me: With the realization that I’m talking to myself, does responding to the questions make me crazy.
Person: You’ve knowingly been doing that this whole time.
Me: You are a very smart man.
Person: I am you and you are me.
Me: Fascinating. In that case, I must confess that you are a very handsome man.
Person: Funny I was just about to say the same thing.
Me: Then you most assuredly were also going to comment about my manly pecs, huh?
Person: I felt it requisite, yes.
Me: You, sir, are a specimen.
Person: Ditto.
Me: Did you just say ditto?
Person: Well I typed it but whatever. Semantics.
Me: The word ditto I cannot abide.
Person: It seems we’ve encountered a crossroad.
Me: Indeed. What gambit are you considering?
Person: I don’t feel it essential to divulge the details.
Me: Withholding now are we?
Person: Like a stingy wife.
Me: Stalemate?
Person: You concede so quickly and with very minimal force applied. Are you French? You know it’s really not much fun making fun of you when you are me.
Me: Agreed but think of the children. Not like the late Michael Jackson but like the collectors of children Angelina Jolie or Madonna would. Lovingly.
Person: Interesting suggestion. Normally at this point I would remind my opponent that he should not forget who is the better and graciously bow out before I destroy them. Seeing as though you are my equal, I am on unfamiliar ground. A draw is equivalent to a loss so that can’t happen. What to do, what to do?

…to be continued…or not…we shall see…you don’t care…I don’t care…ellipsis…

Idiots

Their only purpose in life is to provide me with targets to berate and lambaste at my whim. Thanks and no thanks, idiots.

Stuff. Things.

I’ve had a lot of friends get engaged and/or pregnant lately. I am supremely happy for them and anxiously await their new additions. Oddly enough I had a realization contrary to what I thought I would have had. You'd think I'd hope for a similar outcome for myself. False. After being hopeful for marriage and kids for approximately 9 years, I have come to a place of complete appreciation for my situation. I think I may have posted something along these lines a while back but it still amazes me that I no longer hope for it. After hoping for something for so long, it seems odd to not be bothered when you don’t attain it and move on to other aspirations. I can say with all the clarity of a lucid mind, the previous goal looks better in the rear view. Growing older and wiser gently replaces foolish goals hoped for in youth. Experience truly is a softening filter.

But E, I’m married and you don’t know what you’re missing. Right. Call me selfish or whatever you wish but I’m fine not knowing. I hear married people complain/bitch all the time about how hard it is and that it is constant work. No thanks. I’ve got enough on my plate to keep me busy let alone room for additional helpings/stress. Marriage works for you and that's great. I am entirely self sufficient. I am quite able to take care of myself. What do I need a companion for? Nothing. What about sex? Touché. I am willing to forgo that though. That while sex is enjoyable there are things associated with it that I am just not willing to put up with for it. Marriage is great, that’s how I came into the world, it’s just for other people. Same with kids.

I can count on the hand of an amputee missing 3 fingers the number of girls I’ve met I would even have considered marrying. Seeing as though that number was developed when I was younger and hopeful/foolish I should update the number to accurately report its current value. The revised number is 0. I abolished the 2 because they left just like the hope I had for marriage and kids but quicker.

Let’s pump the brakes for a second and back up. In my 30 years of metabolizing stuff, I have met a fair amount of ladies. I have met more bitches than ladies but let’s simply consider the ladies. Considering all the ladies I’ve met, there have been the previous 2, count em, 2 ladies I would have ever considered embarking upon a lifelong journey with. (My perspective is now eternal but it was a lifelong thing when I considered these ladies. It’s an LDS thing if that doesn’t make sense.) 2 out of however many ladies I’ve met. That’s pathetic. I know I’m particularly picky but shit man, you’d think the number would be a little higher. Why is this? I’m not gay so that’s not a reason. It’s not that I never meet new ladies so scratch that one. It’s not that I’m not open-minded when I meet new ladies so that too can be excluded.

The reason, folks, is simple. E is just not destined to be married and have kids. It kinda sucks because I alone bear the burden of continuing the (insert last name here) name because I am the only surviving male in my immediate family. I would like to keep the family name alive and kicking ass but alas, no dice. Seeing as though I meet a potential candidate every 5 years (calculated from an age of 20 which is still a young age to marry but it was the first time I met a girl and thought about it) I’ve probably got another 5 years till I meet the next one. This number doesn’t hold actually true because the last time I dated a girl I would have considered was 7 years ago or so. It seems there is no paradigm with which to work. I can tell you this, however, the required desire and hope necessary to facilitate the act has vacated. Faith is hope for things not seen. Take away faith and hope and what do you have? Me.

I can’t wait to be a rich uncle/brother/son that spoils my family incessantly. This post was not meant to instill you with piteous feelings for me. This was a happy realization. This gives me something new to hope for and gives me faith anew. Seeing as I just got accepted into dental school, this goal actually has a chance of getting fulfilled.

I’m sure you don’t enjoy posts about my actual feelings on issues so I promise to post something funny shortly…at least something that is funny to me. Hopefully there is some overlap with you.

Fact

The only way to make butter better is to add honey...and a naked chick.

New Moon

New Moon gets a full moon from me as well as all the other movies/books in the series. What a piece of garbage story line. Oh no! I've fallen in love with my food...oh and I'm a vegetarian vampire. GAY!!!

P.S. Anyone over 18 that thinks Jacob is hot is a pedophile.

Dry humping?

No thanks! If it ain't the real thing then all it is is awkward and painful.

Pray for the admissions people at (will not name dental school.)

Pray for them. They are not well. They have unknowingly accepted a retard into their program.

Who, you ask?

Why me of course. It's on bitches!

Fact

Some women are more powerfully constructed than others. Today I saw the Mack truck version of a woman. Solid. Durable. Unattractive. Can take a beating.

No woman should ever aspire to be one of these.

I give and I give.

“Thanks for signing my chest!! I can now die a happy woman.”

“Okay darlin’. Run along now. Think of me next time you’re in the shower or whenever you’re naked.”*

“Already did twice this morning.”

“Atta girl.”

No doubt our meeting will be logged in her journal as a celebrity encounter. My oddness has awarded me a kind of cult following. False. The only people following my blog are my alternate personalities. Schizophrenia is not a bad thing. It’s keeps people, the many me’s, on their toes. It also provides me a platform to illustrate my esoteric-ness.

*I thought this was only something I said but I heard one of my friends say it the other night to a girl.

Ahh...Nicole.

Despite my attempt to cajole her into a date one evening, I failed to impress her. She spurned all my later invitations too. Ruminations leave me to the conclusion that I am a negative value of desirable. It’s as though I am shit on legs and leave shit stains and remnants wherever I go. I truly leave people with a bad taste in their mouth.

Psyche! I put the hurt on her. She is now recovering in a wheelchair. E leaves em hurtin for certain.

My sexual training began not with young, mindless girls hoping to hump themselves into an identity. My training began with seasoned, experienced women.* Not the royalty of shady women that plied their trade on the streets but older women with a taste for younger men. Older, lovely, uninhibited, insatiable women. Cougars. There’s nothing like a woman that knows what she wants and how to take it. (Pun? You decide.)

My accomplished skills have been honed from many hours of sweat equity between the sheets, in cars, on couches, on floors, etc. If you see a gorgeous chick who is bow-legged, you know she’s gotten the business from me. It’s what I do folks.

*Sadly there were a few accidents where I consorted with foul smelling rabble.

Persistence does not always pay off...unless the desired pay off is depression.

Girl: What are you doing tonight?
Me: You. Hard.
Girl: Joking aside.
Me: I’m hoping you talk nerdy to me.
Girl: Why are you such a dumb ass?
Me: Would you rather I be a smart ass?
Girl: I’d rather you de-ass yourself.
Me: Then what would you look at when my back faces you?
Girl: Why do I even talk to you?
Me: I’ve been wondering the same for a while now.
Girl: I hate you so much…but you get me so hot.
Me: I know but you bore me so beat it, ho.
Girl: Beat it? Do you mean your…
Me: No, beat it like scram. Tell your sister to call me.
Girl: I would happily accompany her when she comes over.
Me: Not interested.
Girl: I have no reason to live.
Me: Agreed. If you love me, you'll end it elsewhere. I sure as hell don’t feel like cleaning up after you.
Girl: Maybe you could help. I remember you telling me one time you were going to kill it.
Me: Yeah that was before you used your mouth to talk.
Girl: How about a second cha…
Me: Have you called your sister yet?
Girl: Umm no. Kinda trying to get laid here.
Me: Good luck with that. Get them fingers a dialin'.
Girl: You make me sad.
Me: Took the words right out of my mouth. What's your sister's number?
Girl: Why don't you want me?
Me: You're wasting time here when you could be talking to someone that gives two shits.

Hateful bitch.

I know this hate filled girl that no doubt bathes in children's tears and wipes her ass with their Christmas lists. Stupid c word.

I have not forgotten about you little sweeties!

I have been really busy the last little while and haven't had a chance to post stuff. Fear not! There is ample material that needs to be posted and will be soon.