Nothing's Fair

I've said it before, I'll say it again: so many cute/hot/otherwise desirable Japanese women, and not even ONE for me?  Fuck life. 

I've said it before, I'll say it again...

I hate the human race.

WAKE UP!!!!

Seriously, I CANNOT BELIEVE people!  They are just so utterly predictable and oblivious to reality it makes me want to throw gasoline over the whole lot of them and break out the marshmallows. 

How and/or why are we still "shocked," "stunned," or "disturbed" by a female pop star who achieved fame through her sweet, wholesome package ultimately whoring herself out and going for a "bold," "sexy," "daring," whatever new persona?  Seriously, EVERY star of this type has gone this route.  Women HATE being cute.  They HATE being "good girls."  And yet EVERY time one of them goes through this inevitable and highly calculated transformation, the media and popular culture at large invariably has the same reaction.  There's nothing "daring" or "racy" about this type of behavior because everyone (besides me) secretly loves it.  Women love it because it's what they want to do - throwing away their innocence for an image that makes men want to inseminate them, and men love it because they get erections which cause vital blood to leave their brains at the sight of nubile flesh. 

The thing that's particularly funny about these types of events is that they're practiced - the people hosting the event know what's being planned by the performer so it's not like these "shocking" performances came as a surprise to anyone.  Honestly, in this day and age it would be much more shocking if a former teen pop queen decided to do a major event with a live band, no dancers, and wearing a full-length dress than if she came out with feces smeared all over her body and eels hanging out of her anus, and all she did for her performance was deep-throat the microphone repeatedly. 

I've said it before, I'll say it again...

blackpeoplemeet.com - because God forbid you have to date some cracker-ass honkey!

This post featuring 85% less offensiveness

In case I've never mentioned it, reason #4592 why being single both sucks and blows: trying to put a pain relief patch (e.g. Salonpas) on one's own back is about as easy as it is exciting.  Pure lameosity.

You're wrong, that's all there is to it, no matter what "it" is.

Why, why, WHY is the life of a child - who contributes absolutely nothing to society - worth more than/more important than other humans?  Is the worth of one's life inversely proportionate to one's age?  "Oh, they could grow up to be the person who cures cancer!"  OR, they could grow up to be an unemployed alcoholic, a rapist, or another worthless breeder who does nothing with their lives but pump out 2.3 more kids.  So why is it more of a tragedy if they get killed than if a 50 year old with priceless life experience, a doctorate, etc. were to meet a similar fate?  I mean, if anything the kid is lucky to die young - they never have to experience a broken heart, having their dreams crushed under the heel of a less intelligent, less considerate individual than themselves, or the brutal reality that their life has the equivalent exchange rate to a new car driven off the lot - as soon as you're born your value begins to plummet.  Awesome.  Whereas the aged individual is more likely to cure cancer as they have likely viewed the problem from countless angles and only have that one left to investigate.  So there you go.  Fuck kids.

Pathetic, utterly PATHETIC!

Seriously, can't you think of ANYTHING else to do with your lives other than have kids?  Worthless, you're all completely worthless, and your kids will be exactly the same, and their kids, etc.  95%+ of humanity is worthless and disposable.  I hope you're all proud of your pathetic, worthless existence.

Upon Further Analysis...

EVERYTHING is the worst. 
Humans are unfathomably, irredeemably stupid, and I am human.
Nothing is worth doing.
Blech. 

DAT Ass?

Why yes, DAT ass.

"We blew it man...we blew it."

Oooooh the 'ole end of weekend depression is kicking in something fierce.  Funny thing is, I don't really know what more I could've done this (extended) weekend to stave it off...actually, that's a blatant lie, but let's say I don't know what more I could've REASONABLY done to stave it off.  I mean, I made reasonable efforts towards getting myself to a state where I could do the sorts of things that would make me feel like I'm actually living rather than wallowing in a perpetual waste of time.  But those efforts seemed to bear no fruit, and I still haven't made it to that "next level" yet.  Is it too late?  I was reasonably productive - biking, skating, working on music, doing some chores, doing a little creative cooking, etc.  But aaaaaaaallllllllll alone.  And I also managed to cave-in on some of my bad habits that, had I restrained myself, I would've felt good about resisting.  That never helps with the PMA.  ANYWAY, no point in dwelling on it I guess.  I've got a prospect on the horizon, but the horizon is distant, and there's no telling what pitfalls are hidden between myself and that horizon.  Whatever.  Time to shut up and try to enjoy what's left of the weekend eh?

Can't you stop?

Aaaaaaaaaannnnnnd the end-of-weekend rage is kicking in.  Just went to the grocery store and I saw this dude I would describe as the "prototypical douche-bag" with the "prototypical hot girl who tends to be hanging on the arm of the prototypical douche-bag" in tow.  I'm not embarrassed to admit that it was a genuine struggle not to run up to the guy and deliver my best flying jump kick right to his lower back, as a book I once read put it, "just for luck."  I could care less if he would've gotten up and kicked my ass, it would've been worth it.  The only thing that kept my senses in check were the potential legal ramifications - I didn't particularly feel inclined to get thrown in jail for assault where-in I'd likely have to deal with even bigger, more proactive douche-bags...not to mention potentially losing my job and being incarcerated over 4th of July weekend.  That's what separates me from the douche-bags - I can control my animalistic instincts/urges...which is why I suck with the ladies.

On a semi-unrelated note, this weekend provided ample reminders that kids are irredeemably stupid and annoying - they have NO redeeming qualities much less ones that overshadow their annoying traits.  In short, they are THE WORST.  Do yourself and everyone else a favor guys - bag it.

Back to silent seething.

Urge to kill rising...rising...

Dear GOD I need my own house.  No more apartment living - no more shared hallways with neighbors going in and out in and out in and out at all hours, and all the other bullshirt associated with apartments, attached neighbors, shared walls/floors/ceilings, etc.  At the very least, I need a private entry and a duplex (or whatever it's called) type scenario with only one shared wall, one neighbor (or two - one on each side) rather than three or four.  Ooooohh yeah.  I need out. 

Just thought I'd mention that since one of my neighbors has been in and out of their place AT LEAST 10 times in the past hour, and with the strange suction in the hallways, whenever they open their door, my door - heck, probably all the doors in the hallway - rattle and make this "SSHHUNK!" sound.  So very, very annoying, especially when my mental state is not the best as it is due to the typical end-of-another-weekend-alone blues. 

Life = pure suck.

I know what you're thinking, and the answer is: shut up.

I'm embarrassed of everything I say and do.

Wait, you're saying you need more evidence?

For those who wonder about my...less than upbeat attitude toward life, let me cue you in a bit more as to the joy that is being me. 

I called home for fathers' day, and first I had to get through my sister (43, psychotic, and still living at home) who made some sort of snide remark to my mom or dad or whoever when she called down from her lair to let them know it was me calling.  Then my dad answers, and he responds sarcastically when I wish him happy fathers' day ("Oh, yeah right..."), and acts like I've inconvenienced him by calling, saying he was just about to go to bed (at 8 PM).  So the call lasted a grand total of 1 minute 41 seconds, and it wouldn't have been that long had I not bothered to try and make conversation by talking about what I did today.

Can you FEEL the love?!

Definitions of Reality

Free spirit = drug abusing slut.

Still Wondering?

Wow, I've seen some ridiculous things in the online dating world, but the recent response I got to an innocent first contact takes the cake, confirming all my negative stereotypes about women and humanity in general.  This particular pile of carbon left the majority of their profile blank, but their honesty in what they DID say intrigued me so I inquired as to how much more they might be willing to divulge, here's the response I got:
"The rest is none of your business unless I find you worthy of my time. I read a bit of your profile and I don't see how we could even have a conversation."
Now, the funny thing about this, what I can't wrap my mind around is why this person would bother to write this response except to be sadistic.  Seriously, why waste your time and mine with such a response?  My guess is she was a child-lover and got offended by my staunchly anti-child rhetoric, but honestly, if you're going to be stupid enough not to be more open about yourself, and you think so highly of yourself as to think others "unworthy" of the effort to write more about yourself that would keep people you don't want writing you from writing you, then you DESERVE to be offended and to have your time wasted by losers such as myself.
Humans...good for nothing but shark chum.

The Man You Love to Hate vs... The Man You Hate to Love

I don't "get" the fascination women have with "bad boys."  I mean, what exactly is the appeal of not knowing whether your significant other/mate is going to beat you up or get into a high speed chase during your first date?  Or of a guy who's more interested in scoring his next fix than he is with your interests/you?  Or even if you're not interested in a long term relationship with said bad boy, what exactly is sexy about the possibility of waking up in the morning after your "passionate tryst" (as those inclined to believe the fantasy would call an emotionless one-night-stand) only to discover that "Mr. Wrong" has robbed you and given you an STD (because he's not responsible enough to wear protection - that's for sissies!)?

The thing that really gets me about this bizarre affection for the worse members of society is how it contradicts that other obsession women have when it comes to men, that being a good father for children - a loving family man.  Even if you maintain that foolish notion of having the power to "change" your man, why bother?  Why gamble with divorce due to infidelity or child abuse or squandering away junior's college funds? 

Now conversely, I can easily explain the appeal of the "nice girl" that no woman wants to be (they want to come off as sexy and naughty [without actually being interested in sex], because that's what bad boys go for, and they know they can use their sexuality to manipulate the more feeble-minded members of the male gender).  With the nice girl, you have the exact opposite set of circumstances that one might have with the "bad boy" or the "naughty girl." 

It probably comes down to the same reason so many women secretly like to be dominated (if you don't believe me, try going to a "specialty 'dating' site" some time and looking at what the fetish of the majority of the women on there is) while publicly crying for equality and independence.  And that reason is probably that they had a shitty father figure in their lives because their mother fell for a "bad boy" and was too stubborn/stupid to leave the asshole for a "nice guy," so their image of what makes a "man" is the traits that their father possessed.  And thus it goes on, and on, and on.  Until the "nice guy" snaps because of isolation and being mocked for being a "pussy" and he goes on a killing spree, and thus becomes the "bad boy" and gets loads of fan mail from female admirers while he's in prison (or gets married in prison ala Richard Ramirez, etc.). 

Ain't life grand?

"I am the NIGHT RIDER!"

Well, I still have yet to get a speeding ticket (knock on wood), though I got darn close tonight.  *whew!*  But really, I've said it before I'll say it again: life's too short for speed limits (especially late at night when there are wide open lanes and your car just PREFERS to go 80 rather than 55).

Just Do It

(First of all, don't worry, this is not a suicide note despite how it might sound here at the beginning)
I understand why people choose to blow their brains out as a means of suicide, and it's not just because it's the most sure-fire method.  It's because they hate their brains so much that they want to obliterate them.  My brain is really the only reason I've ever thought about suicide, and it's NOT because I'm stupid as my BRAIN would have me believe.  I mean, I have a pretty cushy life - steady and well paying job, safe and fairly comfortable shelter, ample sustenance, no debilitating diseases, etc.  If I could turn off all non-purposeful thought in my brain, I wager I'd be a pretty happy camper.  But my brain will simply not SHUT UP and let me live. 

And it's not just the constant regrets and critical analysis of every miniscule thing I do and say, it's even my dreams.  Not only do I get to deal with the recurring nightmares about my high school and college years, but I get gems like the one I had last night.  First of all, it involved me rollerblading.  Now, to the average Joe this might not seem like a big deal, but I'm a skateboarder - I don't like rollerblading or rollerbladers - why can't I dream about skateboarding?  And this is not the first dream I've had that had me rollerblading by any means - I've had numerous.  WHY?!  But much, much worse than the rollerblading (which isn't really so bad because it's kind of like flying the way I do it in my dreams) was the deal with women.  So, if you know me, you know I don't have much luck with "the ladies."  So I'd kinda hope that dreams would offer some respite from the romantic doldrums, but NOOOOO!  So basically, there was this girl from my past - we'll call her Becky - who I had a bit of a secret, subtle crush on back in the day.  Becky wasn't necessarily what you'd call a "hottie," but she had a certain charm to her, and she was a nice girl.  There was some interaction between us and I'm fairly certain we danced together at a few dances, but we never got to the point of "dating" or "going steady" as it was called back then.  I guess I always wished we could've but it "wasn't meant to be."  Anyway, so in this dream Becky had come back to town to visit while some weird festival was going on, and we got to hanging out, and she had blossomed into a very appealing (to me) young lady, although a little wilder than I would've liked/expected.  So I started to fall pretty hard for her, but it seemed she had a man "back home."  Unfortunately, this did not prevent her from exhibiting very warm and even downright flirtatious behavior towards me.  I try to ignore it since I know it won't amount to anything because she's got someone else, but I'm also powerfully smitten.  So at one point we're sitting by a lake at night, talking about her imminent departure, and there's a cold breeze and she's waxing depressedly about how she'd like to move back here or whatever, and then - and I totally see it coming - she gets up, walks over to me, and snuggles up close to get out of the wind.  I can't resist, and I go to put my arm around her, and...she stops me saying she can't because of what's "back in (her home town)" i.e. her boyfriend.  This irritates me to no end, and what's worse is that we end up holding hands, and she's all leaning up against me and such - total romantic setting city EXCEPT for the fact that it's not.  Fun stuff right?  F$%&!!

So anyway, I wake up and can't stop thinking about this stupid dream, so here I am dwelling on it.  *sigh*  What a bunch of B.S.  It's just like my waking George Costanza existence: if I like them, they don't like me; if they like me, I don't like them.  I've kind of lost my train of thought at this point, but I just felt like expressing my personal desire to blow my brains out right now, but keep living.  You know what I'm saying?  Alright, I'm going to try and go do something productive to get my mind off all this now.  Thank you for listening oh anonymous vacuum of the interwebs.

Punching Throats

To people on online dating sites who don't post photos of themselves, want kids, and still wink at or otherwise contact me: please step in front of a moving motor vehicle.  Thank you.

There oughtta be a law...#4529

If I were ever president/dictator/supreme overlord of the universe, I would make "showing off" one's "baby bump" a crime punishable by a swift kick to the belly with a steel-toed boot.

"Does it get lonely up there on your pedestal?"

A friend of mine posted the following link on Facebook today...

5 New Products That Prove Humanity is Doomed (Part 2)

...and of course everyone thought it was a laugh riot.  Oh, those pathetic losers and their sex dolls/hugging pillows/whatever.  Well guess what?  I didn't think it was so funny.  But rather than being a jerk and posting a rant in response, I decided to use this blog for its intended purpose and vent on here.

I don't have a sex doll, but I can absolutely empathize with those who might choose to get one.  Here's why:

Perhaps the folks who buy these dolls have STDs and they care enough about their loved ones not to share them, or they're responsible enough not to share them with random strangers they would otherwise be picking up at bars to satisfy their sexual urges.  What would be funnier - them having sex with a doll, or you getting AIDS?  I'm inclined to say the latter if you say the former.

OR, on a similar tack, perhaps they are a truly sensitive individual who has strong sexual urges but doesn't want to risk hurting the feelings of someone via a one-night stand (or worse yet - RAPE), and can't stand the thought of having sex with a prostitute (or realizes that $5000 for a real doll - with which you can have sex any number of times - is much more sensible than the $1000-$3000 they charge for a single night at the legal brothels out in Nevada).  Again, what would be funnier - them having sex with a doll, or raping your sister/daughter, or having your best friend commit suicide because the man she thought was the love of her life was just using her for sex?
Finally - and perhaps most importantly - the statement, "For the same amount of money you spend on a realistic love doll, you could go out dozens upon dozens of times and actually meet real people, form relationships, have adventures, fall in love, converse, learn and grow as a human being, with other human beings" assumes that people would want to meet/talk with (much less fall in love with) someone who would be willing to have sex with a doll, which they wouldn't because they're too high up on their horses to see that not everyone is interested in or CAPABLE OF social discourse with meat sacks with whom they have absolutely nothing in common or who want nothing to do with you if you don't care about the "cute" shit that their kid did today.  Maybe they've even tried and failed miserably.  Maybe they've had their hearts ripped out and stomped on by insensitive women and never want to risk getting hurt again.  Maybe they're grossly deformed or have fetishes they're too embarrassed to share with anyone.  It's obvious that whoever wrote this article would rather point and laugh at such an individual than try and understand them via the conversation they espouse.

I don't think realistic sex dolls are a sign of the downfall of man, I think they're a sign of our evolution, a sign that we're better understanding our sexuality and putting more thought into our sexual endeavors.  I think a much bleaker assessment of humans can be made regarding our intolerance toward those who have different sexual inclinations, be they homosexuals, bisexuals, or those who'd choose to have sex with a doll.  And I've said it before, I'll say it again - if they ever develop an android catgirl, I'll be the first to put my name on the pre-order list.

Hate Everything, Kill Everyone

I like how 80+% of the women I see on dating sites nowadays are overweight.  Oh wait, no I don't.  Really, I mean, I know I'm no Adonis, but for God's sake - stop admiring pictures of your friends' kids, put down the chocolate and glass of Merlot, get up off the couch, and go for a f#$%ing walk.  Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go murder my neighbors (the ones across the hall are having yet another party, and the ones below me have gone in and out of their patio at least 10 times in the past hour, which shakes my floor and creates a sound akin to thunder when they open and close their sliding door).

Do YOU know what it's like?

I've decided to use this blog to share some old demo tapes and the like to provide a new opportunity for some of these classic obscure gems to be unearthed and appreciated by a new generation...or whatevers.

First up on the list is Enrage's "Ugly" tape.  This was so far ahead of its time - super tight, insanely heavy groove/slam with unusual levels of emotion for the style rather than the typical tough guy approach.  Think Life of Agony meets Disembodied or something with a unique Noo Yawk flair.  As the Very Distro catalog described it, "produces the kind of mosh pits that people get hurt in" or something.  Just check it out!

Enrage - "Ugly" Cassette
Year - 1993

Side A
Ugly
Slave Labor
My Hands

Side B
Drawn to You
Sins of Release
Epiphany

Credits: 
Vocals - Jeff Altieri
Guitars - Mike Pellegrino
Bass - Joe Mariconda
Drums - Marco Altieri

Recorded at The Boiler Room
Engineer - T.J. Quatrone
Mix - Alex Armitage

Originally released on Key-Hole Records.

Preposterosity

I find it rather amusing - in an annoying sort of way - how some people who have accomplished absolutely nothing else in life can have a kid and suddenly assume an inflated sense of superiority to anyone else.  Like the fact that they did something that basically any other ANIMAL on Earth can do somehow makes them more evolved, or perhaps raises their experience points or something, and their opinion is then more valuable than that of folks who HAVEN'T succumbed to their primal instincts.  Redonkulous says I.  What's even better is when persons who were formerly violent, negative, hateful, scofflaws breed and/or are "born again," and therefore see fit to look down upon those who possess their former traits.  Great stuff.

New Coke is it!

OK, so I have created this blog as a replacement for another blog that was a replacement for...aaahh never mind.  Full description to come when I get a sec.