Untitled

do you love anyone but yourself?

Check thyself before ye wreck thyself

Do you ever find yourself with a great title for a blog, but not having any content? Well here I find myself having the worst day of this week and I'm laughing about it. It's funny how if things get really bad the defense mechanism of humor kicks in.

#1 Seriously. Reply To All. Why?
#2 I can make an ass of myself quite fine without the help from all of you. But thanks for the help anyway.
#3 If you are over 30 please make music void of angst. Thanks

Shooting for the Ankles

there always comes a time of year when warmth is not taken for granted. weeks have been spent awaiting the arrival of the leaves on the tree, but i look up and i've missed the whole thing. for every new lonely leaf there is three drops of blood. happiness is betrayed by loneliness. i've been here several times before and it wasn't a dream. strands of spider web seem to be touching my face throughout the day and small beetles crawl on every edge.

do you ever feel like you are constantly waking up into a different life? everything has changed from the day before. each week is marked by those immediate and sudden changes of character that scare you when they manifest themselves. these are not necessarily negative things, in fact quite the opposite. you wake up into a life where you are happy, you understand the people around you, and you grasp those things that seemed impossible last night. the new night brings fear because... what if you wake up in someone else tomorrow?

13 Nov 2003
turn up the sound
its the only thing that interrupts
the silent conductor to my mind
the air is too thick for me to breath
but you have no problem
taking away my last gasp

Brett Easton Ellis

"I was on a panel rather pretentiously titled "Whither Goes the Novel" and it was very interesting because we were talking about the best seller lists of 1950, 1960, 1970, 1980, 1990. And the shocking differences between even 1970 and 1980 where the top ten books were literary books, Vidal, Updike, Roth, Fowles. These were literary books that were huge. John Updike's Couples was published in 1968 and was on the cover of Time magazine and caused a rift in the culture. Portnoy's Complaint also caused a major rift. Then you look at the lists of the 1980's and it's Clan of the Cave Bear and a lot of Stephen King creeping up and in the 90's it's all Anne Rice and John Grisham. Corporate and fat and shiny books. I don't think there's any literary fiction on those lists at all. None at all. And it's very rare for a huge writer, someone whose going to be in that Pantheon of Letters, like Joan Didion, to get on the best seller list anymore where she would be on it at one time for months and months and months and these books were discussed at parties and everyone was reading them and talking about them as much as they were talking about any of the current movies or current rock music. Now, in the overall culture books play a much smaller role in peoples lives. Even people who don't read books, who don't touch books, I think were at one time touched by the way certain books had an impact on the culture. Now it seems to be very rare. I think books sometimes still have impact, but on a much smaller, more focused group of people. I actually know people, and I'm shocked to say it, who don't read books, who don't buy books. In fact the guy I dedicated American Psycho to, Bruce Taylor, couldn't even get through American Psycho; he said it was "too hard". He said he read the sex scenes. He also didn't want me to dedicate this book to him, once he found out what it was about (laughs) and he begged me to take his name off the dedication. The book had to be dedicated to him, mostly because he was the one person who really taught me what's funny and what's not. And I always looked at American Psycho, as sick as this might sound, as a really funny book. And I know that all the humor in that book comes from hanging out with this guy, Bruce Taylor, who still is the funniest person I know and he doesn't read books. He has a really dark, twisted sense of humor that I didn't have before I met him. He's still my best friend and he lives out in LA and I've known him since the seventh grade and he doesn't read books, though he's the sort of person who years ago would have."

Learn more about this guy.

The First Few Weeks of Alien Life

Please visit my friend Rosie and take a look at what my baby might look like during its first few weeks of life.

Headache

Copyright © Steve Feldman all rights reserved

My Baby's Momma

Dear MJC:

You pose a good question, where is your part in all of this? It is true that you have been chosen to be the mother of my unborn alien child, but I am still the parent nurturing this offspring. I am also the person/demon suffering without a soul. So here's your choice... a sweet little alien baby and a soul-less undead demonic vampire as your partner in raising said child.... OR... no alien baby, a fully functioning human partner with a soul, and the possibility of future HUMAN children? The choice is yours. I'll respect your wishes as the adopted mother of this baby.

Sincerely,

Logan the VampireSmith

P.S. Satan doesn't like when people go back on their word. Things could get bad for all of us if we don't give up the alien baby.

Don't Stop Get it Get it

People may never give back. As much as you give and provide and offer and serve, you will most likely never get it back. Don't stop, just don't expect it.

The alien baby talked to me today. It said, "You sure are a selfish bastard, just giving me up to Satan." He went on to scold me, "Don't think that I don't have high speed internet in your womb. And by the way, you ARE NOT funny." Ungrateful child. I already want to kill him and he hasn't even made a mess yet. Luckily he never will. Straight to Satan's House with him.

How to get your soul back

1. Locate Satan. (Recent searches have shown that he lives in a dorm in Manhattan)

2. Upon locating him, hit him up on his cellular telephone. He will ask you the following: "Be ye angels?" Calmly reply "Nay, we are but men."

3. He will then try to eat your soul. Respectfully remind him that you have no soul because you sold it to him. Provide him with the receipt (you did get a receipt, right? if not... forget it)

4. Then you have to schedule an appointment with his secretary, which by the way is Christopher Reeves.

5. The meeting
a. Offer him your firstborn.
b. Agree to listen to him pout about how he has no soul.
c. Then perform three tasks (these vary depending on the soul seeker, I had to dance with a small baboon and perform several other humiliating tasks that I'd rather not discuss)

6. Then you sign an agreement that outlines the terms of soul retrieval. Which says that he will slowly supply you with your soul until the birth of your first child, at which point he will return your soul in its entirety.

That's it. Good luck. Luckily Satan doesn't know that my firstborn is an alien. HAHHAHAHAH! SUCKER!!!! Can't believe he fell for the old "get my soul back for an alien baby" trick.

Sold My Soul for a Dollar

This month marks one year since the yard sale on my soul. I was in Richmond, VA. There was not a lot of part time work to be found. Previous to my soul selling, I debated selling my body and soul to The Waffle House. Luckily? they didn't hire me. Seriously, who DOESN'T get hired by Waffle House?? The situation was at its most dire point. Here I was, savings slowly evaporating and credit cards happily building a cell for me. I had to do something. I was hired by Target. I suspect it was affirmative action that got me the job, nonetheless, I had a job. Then Satan came to me and said, "If you will live the lifestyle of an undead demonic vampire I will pay you $8 an hour instead of the measly $7 that you will make working with the living." I readily agreed, after all, how bad could this undead demonic lifestyle be?
Soon I found that while $1 an hour more could buy quite a few JBC's it couldn't buy me my life back. I thought Satan was just joking. Demons and vampires don't REALLY exits... do they? I am here to tell you that YES they do, and YES I was one of them. I wandered from work, to blockbuster, to my apartment in a rhythmic fashion. I lived with three other people at the time and I honestly don't remember speaking one word to them during the few months in which Satan owned my soul. All I really remember is omelets (the closest I could come to the vampiric need for blood), an 18-wheeler idling in my living room, and fearing the sunrise.