Ethereal Floating

Remember when I asked about the word euphoria the other day? Well I think I have found an answer. The word is ethereal. I often find myself in a state of etherealness. Floating and drifting.

"Characterized by lightness and insubstantiality; intangible. Of the celestial spheres; heavenly. Not of this world; spiritual."

Floating away from the earth's surface imposes a different set of rules or lack of rules on the floatee. One is no longer bound by society's definition of who one is or one ought to be. There is an overwhelming feeling of weakness, both physically and spiritually (composed of emotional, mental, and spiritual elements i.e. the soul) when confronted with the power of this realm. The difficulty lies in facing the earthly realm in which the physical body still resides while floating in this ethereal existence. The inability to meet the standards of the real world provides an environment of internal warfare. Here I am floating in this beautiful light blue crisp sky with out a care in the world, but the ugly ground keeps reaching up at me, attempting to remove me from the clouds. Unfortunately, because I have given up all defenses and weapons in order to feel the pleasant ethereal euphoria, I cannot keep myself from crashing back down to earth when its forces become too persistent.

"The pathologist hasn't called yet, they sent it into the Armed Forces Pathology Institute for a second opinion."

I've been patient for long enough. I was anticipating a grandiose post to announce the total and utter annihilation of the alien baby (and it's subsequent sale to Satan), but he just won't leave. This supposed "lymph node" they took out of my neck is now being tested by the Armed Forces Pathology Institute. Maybe they think I'm clueless to what is growing in my body. They think they are going to get the alien baby to study and perform research. I fear for them if they think they are going to steal Satan's booty just like that. He won't be very pleased to say the least and he knows that I can't do anything about it because it's the government right? But luckily Satan runs the government so he can manipulate them to retrieve what is rightfully his. I'm also anxious to hear the report from the pathologist to see whether or not they got all of the alien out this time. Chances are they only took his main nerve center for their purposes and left the rest of the rotting, poisonous parts in my body. Why are they so selfish like that?

Euphoria

I'm looking for a word and I'm thinking that maybe some of you wordsmiths out there can give me a hand. A word that is similar to euphoria but with more floating involved. Dictionary.com defines euphoria as "A feeling of great happiness or well-being." While that definitely describes the feeling I'm looking to express, I need something a little more... ummm... light, floating, and drifting. Any ideas? Imagine a perfectly light blue sky at the beginning of fall, and now you are floating through that sky at your command. It's not too cold, nor is it too hot, it's just right... OK! Now tell me what word describes this! Go!

i've got green and i've got blues

The Smithsonians Group has officially been buried. Thank you all for the time and effort spent with it. I'd like to do something similar soon. If you have any suggestions or would like to be involved in the creation, please email me or just comment here. In the meantime, I will post the five most recently published blogs here on my blog. Online discussion is becoming a prominent method of communication. Few have mastered the art of efficient and effective online discussion. As a step closer to the goal of having meaningful online discussion, Howard Rheingold has provided a well thought list of ideas to improve hosting of such discussions. I'll put the list out there for your reading as I am currently studying it as well. Let me know what you think. Is this a useful means of communication? Should we be putting effort into improving our methods in this vein?

by some ungodly cataclysmic event, i won

so i have been in this argument with an acquaintance of mine for about 6 months now. it goes back and forth, month to month. i hate you, i hate you not. to be honest, i'm running out of petals. luckily in this day and age, argument can be conducted electronically and we never have to see each other. the part where it starts to get weird is this: i'm not contributing to the argument. i don't say a word, not only do i not say a word but i don't type or write or anything else a word either. i feel bad for not participating in this power struggle because it is not my intention to hurt them by making them look ridiculous. i just wanted to announce that this month by some ungodly cataclysmic event, i won. go me. urggghhh...

Zach's Blog

He is seriously so funny. I encourage everyone to go check out his Garden State blog.

I've heard one **** before, but ever since I heard the second one I've had this insatiable desire to rob a liquor store and refer to all women as "ho's".
-Zachary Braff

"Your mom goes to college."

Two movies of the summer that you may or may not MUST SEE.

Napoleon Dynamite- A fantasy boy in his fantastic world. The first movie I have ever seen more than once in the theater. I've seen it three times. Maybe I should find it bootlegged. The real reason I keep going back, besides it being the tightest spot between a queer and a cowboy (thanks bobby), is so that I can take more people. There are certain things that should be shared with loved ones, Napoleon is one of them. In today's popular culture we are fond of quoting movies to the delight of our associates. If anything, this movie is quotable. In fact, every single line from this movie is a valid soundbite, it's just that vivid and memorable. It's pretty much the best movie ever made. It's weird, it's creepy, it's clean to an extreme, and it's hilarious. MTV's Kurt Loder called it a "revelation." I call it another installment in movies that succeed because of their skewed, ridiculous view of "cool."
Mount Bensuvius Rating: 7.5 VEI* (Super Colossal approaching Mega Colossal)

The Garden State- Starring Zachary Braff and Natalie Portman. You know the guy from Scrubs? Well this is his baby. He wrote and directed it. It has his humor written all over it. And that is a good thing. It's New Jersey and suburbia. It's everyone you know that never moved out, that never went to college, and still parties with the high school kids. To sum it up, it's about everyone that never moved on. So what if that's me. Maybe that's why I liked it so much. Hilarity only describes half of the movie. The other half is touching (it touched me, and no it wasn't inappropriate touching) and inspirational. Touching because we can all relate to the inability to communicate with other human beings and the difficulty of opening up to said beings. Thankfully self deprecation can be a great communicator.
Mount Bensuvius Rating: 7 VEI* (Super Colossal)

*Volcanic Explosivity Index (Read more here)

phlow

no one will find us in this

how come you started a lap ahead?

Yes we all get the opportunity to jump the 43rd hurdle on the 5th lap, but some of us start at the 42nd hurdle thereby making the 43rd a lot easier to tackle. Others of us start at the Starting Line and have to run a mile and 42 other hurdles first, making that 43rd, or even the 10th for that matter, nearly impossible to jump.

"Some people are born on third base and go through life thinking they hit a triple. "
Barry Switzer

Spitz Suflower Seeds

A possible cure.

the cliche' king

does anything come out of your mouth that hasn't been reduced, reused, and recycled? environmentally friendly you may be... but where is the original content that i paid for?

used to be a killer, best killer in the land...

it is not the many, but the one. it is not the quantity, but the quality. it only takes one to shut us down. one day, one event can cause us to retire. after you have perfected what it is you do, what is there left to do? the smell of competition, the taste of winning... no longer brings me pleasure. everything you hold close is negotiable. it is done.

...she was the most beautiful thing that i have ever killed.

sellout

"If there is anything the nonconformist hates worse than a conformist, it's another nonconformist who doesn't conform to the prevailing standard of nonconformity."
Bill Vaughan

The Cure August 6, 2004

I have an extra ticket for the show on August 6. That means this Friday. If anyone is interested let me know.

4 Years Have Passed... and still only music

i can still hear the voices ringing in my ears and see the images in my eyes. time is the only cure and the only enemy. time will always repeat that day. for as long as i live this day will come once a year. and i'll get to relive that hole.

May 11, 1955-July 29, 2000
god rest your soul dad

"in my place, in my place were lines that i couldn't change, and i was lost oh yeah"
"tell me you love me, come back and haunt me"
(thanks be to Coldplay for being the musical sponsor for this day two years running... without music where would we be?)

Behold... A Lady

"so sad... but, one day our kids will have to visit museums to see what a lady looks like, so if you find one, i beg of you hold her tight... yes, spot one good sir, treat her right. Benjamin Andre signing off..."
-Winner of Sexiest Male Vegetarian 2004

the quest for a lady is not a new endeavor.  this path has been tread and re-tread throughout the centuries.  how do you find one?  how do you know if she really is a lady?  i guess what the real question is... what is a lady?

The Reconciliation of Humankind

it's impossible. 

Poo for Fuel

i'm on a roll for back to back matching blog titles.  so the english have about the most SS idea i have ever heard.  they want to use human feces to generate power.  they figure that patrons of the London Science Museum should give back to the museum.  i wonder if you get a discount on admission if you can guarantee to drop a huge load. 

check out what winds of change and boing boing had to say about this.

Food for Fuel

we feed those we care about... what are we feeding them... do we care about ourselves according to that model? 

we have similar beards

 
Contributed by Shaniqua

we have similar mustaches

"Let me say, with the risk of appearing ridiculous, that the true revolutionary is guided by strong feelings of love."

Che Guevara has been an object of my admiration and intrigue ever since I had the opportunity to live in Argentina for two years.  Yes I know... "ewwwww he's a bad communist revolutionary," but he is a lot more than that.  He is an example of loyalty and commitment.  A movie is coming out in September of this year based on his Motorcycle Diaries.  These diaries chronicle his travels throughout South America and his conversion to the people... the working poor.  In 2006 Benicio Del Toro will play Che in another movie directed by Steven Soderbergh.

 

10 things i hate about ninja/pink pirate ben

15. Is BALD (or was... you change your hair so much I don't know anymore)
14. Has a beard
13. Has RED hair
12.  doesn't dress like a real ninja/pirate
13.  Is really an ass pirate
10. Likes the new Cure album
9. Didn't come to Florida this year
8.  Is obessed with "danger zones"
7.  Is a closet redneck
6.  But a very intelligent closet redneck
5. Communists suck
4.  Has alien children (out of wedlock!!!!)
3.  speaks spanglish (japanese is better!)
2. Pitties the fool
1.  Did I mention he's a red head??
 
Contributed by MooFoo

so i got my yearly review at work

stan: do we not have the packing slip?
militantslave: yeah we just found it
militantslave: crisis averted... because i was "proactive at solving bla bla bla"
stan: I think someone needs to throw themsleves onto their box cutter......
militantslave: luckily i'm ahead of you and bleeding all over the warehouse
stan: Please make sure you are dragging a mop behind you...
militantslave: consider it done
stan: with all that blood someone could slip and fall
militantslave: we wouldn't want that

we all remember stan don't we?

and then i woke up

these days my sleep is longer, my dreams are more vivid, the sleep in my eyes almost seals them together in the morning, the breaths are shallow... and then i woke up... and everything seemed in its place again.

the assumption

blin your post hit me today.

i am not an elitist. i do not feel superior to those around me. i assume that those around me are of equal or greater intelligence. when i make fun of a subject or a person i expect that those joining me share the same motivation and sense of humor. i assume that they don't really mean to belittle the person or the subject but just to enjoy the humor that life requires. humor to me is being sarcastic and making the most heinous and off the wall comments imaginable. thereby demonstrating that there is no possible way for what i have said to be taken seriously. it hit me today that i am making the wrong assumptions. having seen these other humans in action i know they really are serious about their joking. they are malicious. of course this doesn't make sense to you, we aren't on the same page. we are rarely ever on the same page.

we never have been and we never will be.

Life Sucks, Get Over It!

"Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he's been robbed. The fact is that most putts don't drop, most beef is tough, most children grow up to be just people, most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration, most jobs are often more dull than otherwise. Life is like an old-time rail journey - delays, side tracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jots interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride."

Jenkins Lloyed Jones

i'm spicey today

Check out Ugoff's Ugoffliments (specifically May 26, June 18, June 22, and July 9)

Burger King does it again! Do you remember the Subservient Chicken?

chronic bipolarity of the soul

#1 i'd like to say that technology is not working out for me today.

#2 i'm on my planet, as usual, but i have gone out of orbit. i can no longe communicate with other planets. farewell earthlings.

American Royalty

"One of the few good things about modern times: If you die horribly on television, you will not have died in vain. You will have entertained us."
Kurt Vonnegut, "Cold Turkey", In These Times, May 10, 2004

I had an interesting conversation with a friend of mine yesterday. For as long as I have known her she has been a fanatic of the entertainment industry. She is very interested in the last happenings in Hollywood, up to date on the current romances and drama with our beloved celebrities, America's royal family. Yesterday, she just went off on how ridiculous it is that we support these people. She couldn't understand why we pay them millions, even billions of dollars to entertain us. I didn't say so at the time, but in my head I was like "it's about time!" I find the growth of people interesting. As they think more, the more they question their previous obsessions. This isn't neccessarily a rant on entertainment as much as it is an observation of personal growth.

Does anybody watch television anymore? This isn't a rhetorical question... I'm actually asking you... Do you watch television? What do you watch and why?

"Googlification of MSN"

Today's New York Times hit it about right: "Microsoft's greatest hits have been clones of other people's successful work, including Windows (based on the Macintosh), Pocket PC (PalmPilot) and Internet Explorer (Netscape Navigator)."

If they've ripped off everything else... why not bite a piece out of the freshly baked Google pie. Take a look for yourself and don't miss the above article... it's downright side-splitting.

The Good



The Bad



and The Ugly

the monster within

this comparison of the Kerry/Edwards ticket was too accurate to not pass on. here is my own personal take on John Kerry or should i say Nosferatu.

NYC 4th of July

"...honestly, to tell the truth, i'm mad at the internet."

there is nothing like night classes at community college to make you feel like you really don't belong.
1. a teacher that is more concerned with being the "unlikely" professor than his history of western civilization. don't get me wrong, he's cool, he's hip... but if you have to tell me that you voted yourself "most unlikely to be a professor" every five minutes, something is wrong.
2. a girl that thinks because you have a skull and crossbones on your t-shirt (GO PIRATES!) and she has one on her purse she should sit next to you. maybe even date you. or at least invite each other to parties.
3. another student that goes to a four year university that knows everything and then some. oh yeah... she won't be able to make it to the second half of the term because she has a soccer tournament in Europe.
4. the eyebrow pierced girl that says, "i don't have email. well, i might but i don't remember it. i just don't really like it, honestly, to tell the truth, i'm mad at the internet."
5. "how many of you in here are vegetarians?"

wow... boy am i in for a treat. as a side note... never offer information where it's not asked for.

who are we...

who are you to decide what is right and wrong for everyone else? who am i to decide that you don't fit the bill? who are we to tell everyone how they must live their lives? is it that hard to listen? is it that difficult to lay down arrogance? don't we all live on this planet together? why can't i see more than just 3 feet in front of me? what is this "bigger picture" i'm supposed to see? what if it's too big to fit on my screen? what if i'm too big to fit in the film? pushing and shoving to make it all match. making the corners fit together just as nicely as their 90 degree angles. there is just too much to fit into the container. there is just too little to merit such a large container.

The Beautiful Faces of Competition

Here we see Kobe imitating Beloki (last summer's greatest face of competition).


The original BelokiWitted. Such pain, such anguish. Notice the similarity to Kobe above.


The message they are trying to convey to the world, "Boom Baca, I got served."

"Smells like something's burning, smelled that way before..."

Today is Fun Day + 2. Or F-Day + 2. There is only one problem with this day... it should be called Smell Day. The attack of the aromas began this morning when I woke up, probably because I only bathe every other day. Now most of you might think that is not very hygienic, but much like those of medieval times, I believe that bathing makes you sick. The dirtier you are the less diseases will invade your tabernacle of clay. So I smelled myself this morning and it was surprisingly pleasant. But I knew I had to stick to my schedule of every other day... I smell good today. Like a freshly opened stick of deodorant. I smell so good you could rub me on your armpits and smell better yourself. And come to think of it, my bald head would probably fit nicely into that body cavity... which reminds me, I smelled some mad B.O. today. Sometimes I really enjoy human body odor, as intoxicating as it is, it makes me feel alive. But what I smelled today was like the onion brand of humanness. I can't find it within me to appreciate that. This morning as the train came by and I boarded, my nasal passages were crowded with hot dog water smell. And although I am a connoisseur of many smells... that is not one of my favorites. Then today at lunch, like most days, someone heats up some sort of frozen fish food meal in the microwave. I haven't smelled food smelling that bad since the Germany days of the BO Burrito. Good mother of mercy! It was terrible. And just then when I thought Smell Day couldn't get any better... there was a definite distribution of gurgley vomit burps. Happy Smell Day.

Baby Update

I birthed about 15 pounds of my alien baby. He is a lot bigger than I had originally planned for... about 45 pounds total. So I've decided to birth him in parts. 15 pounds was one arm. Yeah I know... he's not going to be attractive. Many of you may be wondering why it has taken so long. I'd like to take this time to explain. Little Alien found out I was going to trade him to Satan for my soul. Needless to say he was not pleased about this. We had talked about all the fun things we would do as Father/Mother and Alien Baby. He was disappointed that he would have to be potty trained by Satan and extremely dismayed that Satan would be the one teaching him how to tie his shoes. He didn't like the sound of a fire and brimstone tricycle. All of these things kept adding up in his little alien brain and he finally told me he wasn't coming out unless I agreed to keep him. I haven't completely agreed to keep him which is why it took me so long to just birth one arm. Try birthing a baby with that weighs 45 pounds against his will. NOT EASY! Anyway... just wanted to let you all know, I'm working on it.

by the way: Blogger spell check is TERRIBLE. Their substitute for TRICYCLE (which according to Microsoft Word is spelled correctly) is TRAGICALLY. hmmmm... yeah

Its just knot write.

I like to spell phonetically sometimes. It doesn't make me spell poorly, I just spell the wrong words. Let's see what else... I went two the U-tang four a week. I encourage desert haters too go during the spring. The mountains are absolutely beautiful, like giant dumplings with perfect astro-turf spread across them, or like those model train set hills. like someone hand glued green trees and grass to every inch of them. I used to think Chipotle was the best Chipotle-like food ever, but after partaking of Cafe Rio, I think that Cafe Rio is the Chipotle Champion. Kinda odd how you can lose your own award. I also got really really sunburned. It's so fun to be bald and get a sunburn on your scalp. Then you peel it's like MASSIVE dandruff. I'm talking like quarter and half dollar sized pieces of leprosy head just falling off. Not necessarily socially acceptable, butt very fun.

Who will it be?

You might be the lucky one. Come and see. Thanks Dotty.

Porkchops for breakfast

I was in this mall discussing the merits of taking college classes, when a spotlight shown, illuminating two gargantuan hot topic-esque stores. One of the stores had a haunted house. Boy was I eager to get the shite scared out of me. There I went, climbing the rickety wooden stairs to the entrance. The stairs went flat into a steep incline. You know like in Scooby Doo the stairs turn into a slide of sorts, yeah that's exactly what happened. Can you believe it? I totally wasn't scared. Boooring! Then Norelco the Alien Life Force, who bestows an "Earthling of the Week" award upon the kindest human for said period, went up to the haunted house. From one of the upper windows in the store leaped a kung fu MASTER. (I could tell he was a master by the way he dressed) Norelco did a 360 spin and in a flash he was also in his kung fu gear, looking fresh as a green plantain. The Alien Life Force did what he calls "move number 17" on the kung fu MASTER and it was quickly over. Then my girlfriend wouldn't talk to me. Who knows why? I certainly don't, I rarely do.

"I cannot sleep I cannot dream" last night?

why do i do

my brother questioned me about a particular life situation today. he asked "how can you do that? why do you do that?" and most days i think i know the answer and other days it's a little more hazy. i guess it all comes down to believing. the belief that what i do today will better my life tomorrow. a supreme faith that what lies ahead is worth all the work, pain, frustration, and pain... oh did i already mention pain. lots of pain. i just saw a movie called "Pumpkin" starring Christina Ricci. sorta cheesy, not a particularly good movie. but it shows what happens when someone discovers pain. not only does she have the worst days of her life, but because she experiences that pain she is able to have the best days of her life. pain can only lead to healing. today i'm just tired of the aching wounds that just keep getting deeper, i'm ready for some of that healing. buenas noches.

in with the new

what have we done? we are all in love with google. i love gmail (yes i'm one of the "few special" people that get to beta-cize it). i love blogger (fueled by google). i won't mention the search engine. and then there is google news. and google image search. they will slowly begin (if they aren't already) to rule our lives. but this time we'll be happy about it. weird.

gmail is the new communism.

Smithsonians Banner

Thanks Doto Roboto the Ninja.

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.

Blink

Nobody says it better. Teen angst rarely disappears with age. Call it spank rock if you like... and you won't be wrong about that. I want to have Travis' baby.

The Love Below

You know... attempting a year without hate is like attempting to birth an alien baby. True, it doesn't sound that difficult but did you know that the gestation period for an alien baby in a human womb is upwards of 3 and a half years? Secondly, I am the one birthing the baby and that means I HAVE NO WOMB! So in order to nurture and care for my offspring I must house it in my gut. That's RIGHT! No more mysteries here. Many of you have asked yourselves, "Why did Logan gain 40 lbs. in 4 months after his two year voyage into 'South America' and is still unable to shed the weight?" Well my good friends, it's all in the nature of bearing an alien child. In actuality I never made it to Argentina. Unless you were to convert the word Argentina into numbers and then find the star date and universal location of the same, it would look something like this: 319777E15. Although our human numbers can't really give an accurate reflection of the location, you'll have to put up with what I've shown you. So anyway there I was on this alien planet and I don't really remember much but now I'm pregnant. I guess the point to all of this is that I'm due next month and I'm hoping to have a baby shower. Everyone is invited.

Unable to Relate

i have been known to have this particular type of day. it is the day in which i cannot relate to the rest of the human race. i cannot understand their logic. i cannot understand their motivation. and i cannot understand their selfish, bitter, ungrateful, spiteful, unloving attitude. and maybe the days in which i do understand the majority, i should be worried about myself.

Dialogue

There must be a better way of sharing. A better way of diplomacy. A better way of compromise. I see so much polarity and very little interaction. Is it because "good" and "evil" are parting from each other drastically, or maybe because nobody cares about community? Then once we reach the table of dialogue... How do we actually converse without giving in or being stubborn?

"sometimes i YES when i should KNOW"

the quoted lyrics above aren't even the intention of the artist. i checked their (Drive-By Truckers) site. i have lied to you all. but i will stick with my interpretation of the lyrics. i really like it a lot. the thought behind it is this... THINK-ACT-THINK-ACT. in the past i have followed either the THINK-THINK-THINK-THINK method or the ACT-ACT-ACT method. both are equally destructive. i have destroyed much by using them. now i am exploring the realm of THINK-ACT. it is a very difficult process to learn. you have to do them simultaneously. not only that, but you also have to go clean up the destruction caused by earlier faulty processes. it's like a recall on thoughts, words, and actions. each consumer that has bought any of your products has a right to return to the manufacturer for a repair or a refund. so i'm here to say I'M OPEN FOR BUSINESS. both repairs and refunds will be supplied.

please note: a later recall may be issued when this process is also deemed unable to compete with new technology

I feel a blog coming on... "Not in my kitchen, you don't!"

I am a terribly clever person. I am quite frankly one of the funniest people to ever walk the face of this earth. I swear to you that as I get older my level of hilarity continues to grow. Regardless of these facts and a resume chock full of humorous milestones, there is one person that will never get me. A person very near and dear to me. My very own mother. In recent days I have observed her behavior as I deal card after comical card from my stacked deck. TO NO AVAIL! I always get one of two responses, both of which I find undesirable.
1. The Silent Treatment- She completely ignores that I have split the sides of every human within earshot. She goes on with conversation and whatever else she is doing. This EVEN happens when it is just the two of us talking. I will be in the process of making the funniest and most sarcastic comments that even I have ever heard and she just skips right over them. It's as if she has some sort of chip in her mind that allows her to skip over hilarious content.
2. Bewilderment- You're not going to believe this response. She actually has the nerve to ask me if I'm serious. Part of my humor lies in the extreme nature thereof. Completely false and off the wall statement. THAT IS PURE COMIC GENIUS! And my dear sweet mother asks me questions such as, "When did that happen?" or "Is she ok?" or "Why did you hurt that poor girl with an inkpen AGAIN?" She just doesn't get it.

I am funny, I really am.

Strings of Bling

Everybody these days is flossing their ice and bling blinging. I have come up with a brilliant plan to capitalize on this new market.
I've been drinking a lot of water lately. I'm talking about more than a gallon a day. That's a lot of water, but here's the kicker: I PEE BLING! That's right I'm pissing valuable threads of shiny material. So here's the plan. Continue to drink these absurd amounts of water and as I urninate, I grab these strings of bling (that sounds like a good name for the product, Strings of Bling), somehow make them into a long strand of beauty, and then sell them. Really the only part I haven't worked out yet is how to make them solid. But I imagine turnging a liquid to a solid can't be that difficult. People will totally go for a shiny necklace like these. I can see a lot of people trying to compete with me... but I'll be the O.S.B. Anybody want to preorder?

Two Things

One: Three days, Three Showers.

Two: Why do people send thankyou emails? I hooked you up. End of story. Don't litter my inbox with false apreciation, or real appreciation for that matter. Tell me thanks when you see me. Never tell me anything at all. When you have something useful to tell me you can attach a thankyou to that.

The End

I've got the remedy (no Jason Mraz not you, this is the Prodigy)

continued... The elevator rose at a steady pace for three floors and then jolted up two more floors before coming to a crushing halt which knocked me to my knees. As the elevator settled, I felt the cables strain to support the weight of the freight elevator. "What did you bring me daddy?" were the haunting words that echoed through the small opening between the elevator doors. I stood up to peer through the small crack. A room that looked like a warehouse, lots of windows, filthy with time and neglect, and a dust carpet two or three inches thick. "Daddy come play!" This time I swore the voice was in my head. I bent down to inspect the damage of the fall on my body. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a disturbance in the dirty light coming through the windows. You know that game you play when you stare at someone till they look at you? Remember how you feel when they do that to you? Yeah... that's it... somewhat uncomfortable and uneasy. Someone watching you, possibly the creepiest feeling available to human senses. Who ever was creating these voices and calling me daddy was piercing into my soul with their stare, yet I couldn't see him. The sweat always starts on my lower back and on my forehead. Panic scurried across my body. Pushing all the buttons at once and thrashing around in the elevator only caused the fear to increase. The elevator bounced much too easily and made horrific squeaking sounds. There was only one way out. I pried my fingers between the doors and pushed outward as hard as my weakened dream-like strength would allow me. The doors slid open with a startling ease. My feet sunk into the dust as I emerged from the elevator. To be continued...

I've got the poison

There I laid, for what seemed like the 37th day of my never-ending bedridden existence. I thought and thought and thought. The great thing about being sick is that it forces thought. Voluntary movement is limited because it just hurts too much and daytime television definitely can't be watched. In between feverish and uncomfortable naps are these inevitable silent moments of thought, staring at the ceiling and wondering, "Who really likes the color white anyway?" For three days I wondered whether I was dreaming, living, or wishful thinking. My little baby niece (that cannot speak yet) talked to me, I hung out with a friend of mine that lives 2,000 miles away, and I went spelunking. Nothing like a fever to alter your mind. At an earlier point in my poison, I was trapped in an abandoned apartment building. If I actually knew what the projects were like I could say that's where I was. There was an elevator in this building that was locked with big chains and padlocks. As I aimlessly wandered around the building, I stumbled upon a pair of heavy duty bolt cutters. You know the kind that look like shears. Being guided by the poison, the logical next step was to take the bolt cutters and cut the locks off the elevator. Beyond the clanking of heavy chains on the floor I faintly heard the delicate footsteps of a small child. It's never a good sign when you can see yourself making "horror movie" mistakes. Curiosity DID kill the cat and I'm completely comfortable in saying that the cat deserved whatever horrible death it had to endure. Even so, as curious as that same cat, I boarded the elevator to investigate the echoing noises. To be continued...

i'm embarrassed for myself

ok today is the day. i have to come out about some of my deepest, darkest secrets. why do i have to do this? NO IDEA. Here it goes:

1. Music- I listened to the New Kids. Yes Moses that is NKOTB to you. I listened to Richard Marxx, Debbie Gibson, and maybe even Tiffany, although i've blocked most of that out. I rocked MC Hammer, Vanilla Ice, and Kriss Kross. I even had tapes of ABC and HI-Five. I think I am coming to these realizations because today I am listening to Iron Maiden. I missed out on rock n' roll while I was pop rocking around.

2. Literature (if you can call it that)- I read almost the entires series of Baby Sitter's Club. I also read the Mormon Girly Novel Series. Titles like Charly and Mandy (maybe).

3. Toys- I played with Barbies. Usually in conjunction with GI Joes or scissors, but i did play with Barbies.

I place the blame upon my older sister mostly. But then... it was ok for her to like all these things. So I must return the blame to myself.

dreams of drowning

WARNING: two dirty words, the dirtiest of dirty

you're following too close behind
why don't you just pass?
and you're falling too close in front
this middle finger still means f**k you
still the finger barely scratches the surface
where those wonderful lies seem real
only because they won't tell how they feel
but i know, oh i do know
deep down inside
they are just like you and i
just wanting and waiting to die
i can't talk enough to answer all their frowning
they wouldn't want to hear that i dream of drowning

drowning while i hold your hand
let's go away again
let's go on that trip in the making
it'll take forever
it's the last chance to calm my shaking
but never be enough to take me far enough away

everything is better under warm covers
so when we go down let's hope that water is warm
please you have to come with me this time
there's plenty of room for two
all my doubts will be complete
and your tears won't matter underneath
just two bright smiles
and more than enough miles
to resolve our worst fears
maybe you don't want to hear i dream of drowning

drowning while i hold your hand
let's go away again
let's go on that trip in the making
it'll take forever
it's the last chance to calm my shaking
but never be enough to take me far enough away

lack of sleep has beat me for the last time
and your hand keeps slipping out of mine
i'll be on my way now
don't come following too close
or falling in front
because this finger still means f**k you
i should've known i was going too far
for anyone to follow
this road is much too long
and colder than i remembered
my violent shaking hands and endless doubts
never went away
nobody will ever hear that i ever dream of drowning

when it rains, it pours

a bad day is in order every now and then. you have to have a bad one to appreciate the good ones. today is that day. it's like the worst things that could happen, happen. just yesterday bobby, haagy, and i were discussing how we can't get rid of the bitter cold winter because the warmth of summer wouldn't be as enjoyable. i love the opposition. for all of you reading that know me, don't believe that today is bad because of things happening personally to me. it's not me... it's everyone around me... and my cursed empathy is what makes the day bad for me.

"bury his body in the ol' sinkhole, bury his body in the ol' sinkhole." -DBT

the tragedy of hate

hate is tragic... don't let it eat you like a swine

Maybe i still am emo

maybe i am obsessive. maybe i still do find romance in odd things like a suicide. if we didn't hear it in his music, elliot smith left no doubt to us that his heart was in pain. i mean honestly, if you are going to committ suicide due to heartbreak... this would be the way to do it. depression and drugs are a very dangerous thing. god rest his crying soul. RIP ES 1969-2003... he stabbed himself in the heart

Postal Service

If you've been around myself or the beatsmith lately you've probably heard us mention the postal service. Great music and, as made evidence by this article on Pitchforkmedia.com, very clever little political buggers as well. Jam their stuff, rock it in your head. It'll make you want to write a song. Electronica making love with indie pop. I can't stop listening.

the temporary death

i wrote you a letter
although i knew much more than better
by the time i was done you had already left
and i was alone again with the temporary death
nobody would know it's not a novelty
he's the only one that can stomach my love's poverty
and why can't it keep a roof overhead?
in not so many words my heart is dead
but i didn't do it on purpose
the truth is when i shot, i missed
when the metal was gone
i had to keep swinging
i had to keep filling those buckets you were bringing
because i know you wouldn't hit first
even if worse did come to worst
and that's when it died
because i forgot to let go and i tried

the is one of my circles that i don't want to complete
but the ends always seem to meet
it happened before when i wrote her a letter
and maybe then i didn't know any better
she was gone too
just like you
but i had to finish the race
what if somewhere at the end i did see her face?
i never did and i never will
i will never feel
because i always hit first and start the fight
then it gets dark because you turn off the light
when morning comes and i finally see
you were never there i was just fighting me

that's when i started thinking that it would probably be best
if i laid down to rest
now i know that is the temporary death
we've come to get along quite well
although when it started it was like dreaming in hell
i think those are called nightmares to the masses
to me it's just how the time passes
some up, a lot of down
a few smiles and no tears to drown
don't let them tell you change doesn't happen overnight
because it does and you do and i won't
it does and you do and i can't

The Smithsonians

Due to the high activity and commenting i've opened up a message board and forum. Please if you aren't already a member or haven't received an email from me, petition me for membership, you will be accepted. The blogs will be used as topic mining fields so don't forget to keep your blogs alive.

IT TAKES A VILLAGE

now that i have your attention, i have a few words to say. first of all i want to thank all of you for being part of this blog community we have started. specifically those of you that have blogs: shaniqua, moses, haagy, and dotty inc. the ss has risen to new levels in our recent debates. prayer parties, religious culture vs. doctrine, love not hate, sleeping in too late like the children of israel and worshipping golden calves (spelling? i know all you grammar/spelling zealots out there will correct me as soon as i make a mistake so please feel free to help me out with that one). secondly, i used to shy away from opposing views, arguments, and heated debates and the questions they sparked in my head... but now i know that the more questions that are sparked the more answers i will find.

You know you've made it when...

ok everyone we've got some new links up. let's give them some congratulatory comments, specifically i'd like some comments on shaniqua's "i'm too lazy to get out of bed before 10" post. moses is entering a new era, but be warned this blog contains explicit content, those that are easily offended might want to stay away, that'll probably get more of you there. enjoy and remember... it's LOVE this year, not HATE.

the dream is over

the year has ended, the year has begun. what was a life of dreaming and fantasy has now been replaced by a new life, the new era. i believe it's called dreams in action. it consists of actually working towards the dream as opposed to dreaming the dream. the dream has now become larger than life itself. i have spent a long time dreaming up this dream. the problem with only dreaming is the dream gets bigger and further away because it's never accompanied by action. now back on earth i look for the dream, it appears to be the moon or maybe another celestial body. a little more difficult than i thought it might be, but it's a lot easier getting there by traveling towards it rather than letting it get bigger and more distant. welcome to 2004 everyone. i hope we learn to love each other a little more, and hate a lot less. down with hate!

So I live with my mom...

Living with mom isn't as odd as you might think. the trends show that i am part of a movement. back to the home. cheap rent, good meals, and my mommy... who knows when i'll actually be on my feet. my mom is mad cool. good to argue with, good for eating and making sweets. it's a good time at home. the point is... i'm not ashamed. I LIVE WITH MY MOM! let it be known
Video games are the future of our world. Art, entertainment, communication, our way of life. Please refer to my prophetic post "Our Creativity Part II" Dec 04. ok not prophetic but i was singing praises to the industry a couple weeks ago.

the poison

sleep deprivation is poison to the mind. it slowly decays and eats away at your more functional areas. big time bad news. that's my excuse for no good material this week... take it or die!!!

shout out

just wanted to take a chance today to holler at my boy Haagen Dazs. in true and inspiring form he has started blogging and is on fire. please check his link to the right "Haagen Peter Dazs". you can look forward to more fine works from the ss crew courtesy HAP. keep the blog alive! mjc you are the true inspiration. thanks

Return of the Cave Troll?

submitted by Dr. Bobby Steels

To all who care to Listen....

....So I'm sitting at my desk working happily and I feel pressure....oh the pressure. It's time for the toilet.

I walk in the stall, expose myself, and sit. Literally one second later another man, I suspect, walks in and sits as well. I'm pushing (not too hard though, I like to enjoy my stay with Papasquat Peenchalov)...and the man next to me starts letting it fly, I mean the sounds I heard were almost...no, no...they were disturbing.

I was thinking "very impressive" but I didn't feel the need to indulge so close to the source. Now I'm trying to speed things up so I could get far away and then...I heard whispering.

I thought the guy maybe needed help and was struggling so that a man voice was no longer enabled. I listened intently for signs of life, while fearing inside that I might have to help a man exposed, stinky, and on a toilet. Without delay the man explodes once more. "He's alive!", I thought, but is he well? (I was frightened for I did not feel the need to help a man while he is on the toilet)

I'm still trying to wrap things up in a hurry and the thought crossed my mind, "I wonder who that is". First answer that came to mind, due to the nature of this man's amplitude and our past history, was CAVE TROLL. I thought "Oh No!", had the cave troll decided my mind was not scarred enough? Had he decided to take it one step further (if that is even possible)? Had fate damned me once more? I had hoped not. I refuse to be indirectly molested ever again.

Then I heard a loud whisper, I couldn't quite make out the words because it was more of a mumble, followed by a short "hahaha". So then I thought "cave troll doesn't do that sort of thing". I'm thinking....and thinking (this thinking occurred very quickly mind you)........... Finally I thought... "it must be zzz zzz aka BITF?" Still frightened; I cleaned, dressed, washed, and scurried away.

Although I did not stay to find out I feel pretty strongly that the strange, struggling man was him aka BITF.
Can you think of any other man in our office with such a distinctive characteristic? I think not.
God bless that man's anus.

Thank You for listening,

Dr. Bobby Steels
P.S. This is a true story. And I hope there are no more of these to come.
PLEASE DO NOT TRY THIS EVER.

*Dr. Steels appears courtesy of HAP

Giant Insects and the Mini Zoo

there are two things that need to be changed in this world in order to bring humans together. number one: insects should be HUGE, slightly larger than humans even. of course we would need to reduce the overall quantity of these creatures, but we definitely need to make them larger and more fierce. this would eliminate wars consisting of humans vs. humans. we would be too busy defending ourselves from the giant insects. i fully support a plea for world peace, but i'm more interested in the unification of the human species. number two: we should have mini zoos, someone (preferably the japanese) should develop a way of breeding mini animals or just go ahead and invent a machine that can reduce the size of our current wildlife. in a shoe box you could have elephants, lions, zebras, several species of monkeys, and any number of rodents. the idea is this, once everyone owns there own zoo they will be completely and utterly content. could anyone wish for more than their very own zoo? i know i can't. furthermore, individuals all over the planet could begin to communicate and trade their animals. it would open up the communication lines all over the world, thus bringing us into one harmonious fold. of course all the while we would be defending ourselves against yao ming sized roaches, give a little to get a little... know what i'm sayin!

shout out

i know he's not gonna like this (by this i mean the nickname) but this goes out to Crapperman. please anyone and everyone (i know you are many) that visits the black triangle, go to Mr. T Will Throw You! (Look at the links on the right of this page) i no where near endorse this page nor support it, in fact i disagree with hating in such a direction BUT i do have love for the man behind the hate, as i am an avid hater myself. Read what he has to say... then send him hate mail, especially you conservatively minded people out there.

Grow up!

why is everyone so interested in being a responsible adult? and why does everyone hate you when you are honest? i'm not talking about tactless honesty, i'm saying when you are asked a question or pressured about something and you tell someone straight up what the deal is. accept what i tell you. change that affects the life of others is so difficult to make. you always want to be the good guy, but sometimes you aren't allowed to be because it hurts you. i don't mean to be selfish but i have to come first if i am ever going to be able to be a positive force in anyone else's life.

Our Creativity Part II

I don't know much about gaming or animation or anything in that arena but from what I have read it seems as though the video game industry is somewhat rebellious and a proponent of creativity. As opposed to keeping the technology, knowledge, and ideas to themselves (like some other major industries we know.... music anyone?), they encourage CREATIVITY. This NY Time article discusses some advances in gaming as well as making animation and movie making software available with their games. You probably can't read it if you aren't subscribed to NY Times... if you aren't subscribed to the NY Times Online... Shame on you! Go do it now!

"I know that. I do know that."

NPR ran a really good STORY yesterday on Navoo and the history of the Mormons. I found the story to be well balanced and fair. There was even a call out (See Below) of one of the non-Mormons featured in the story.

In reference to the increasing Mormon population (over 40% of the total population) in Navoo. A former city council member (Joan Craft) had the following to say:
Joan Craft: You know the neighborhoods are filling up more and more with mormons and I look for the [city] council to be predominantly Mormon at some point. I just believe that there is a plan and I don't believe the local people are part of that plan.
Reporter: You know if you substituted another group for Mormon and you were saying some of these things people would accuse you of being a bigot.
Joan: I know that. I do know that. But I just think, I don't know, they are smiling at us like, you know, "we're gonna have this some day and you aren't... the only history we care about is ours,"and that's the bottom line.

It's amazing to me that so many groups are so well protected yet the Mormons still can't get respect. It has become OK to have blanket negative feelings towards the Mormons. And as shown above, people seem to be ok with bigotry towards them. Thanks to the Provo Daily Herald in Utah we have a good ILLUSTRATION of the problem. Please take time to read the article AND CHECK OUT THE COMMENTS... you will be amazed at the hatred and ignorance. And please tell me, how long do we turn the other cheek?

Hands Tied

Listening to: Rancid "Life Won't Wait"
You can see the most important people in your life writhing in pain, run to help them only to trip over yourself and realize your hands are tied. I can stop bleeding, mend a broken bone, but an aching heart and an anguished soul are beyond my control. This doesn't mean I won't try, because I will, but it just feels soo... sooo... helpless I guess.

Kumbaya

This is a shout out to Shaniqua. Kumbya my Lord, Kumbaya. Also as a side note, I found today that my blog shows up if you type in BLACK TRIANGLE BLOG. To my dismay, I also learned that there is a Quiet Riot-esque band from Orange County called Black Triangle. Furthermore there is some sort of medical society using the same name. Although embarassing and somewhat frustrating, it just proves that the term Black Triangle is extremely SS... doctors and butt rockers use it alike. And the most SS of all UFOs are also referred to as Black Triangles.

The Cave Troll Strikes Back

So maybe I am at fault here, I was after all the one staring at his rear as I walked down the hall. But you tell me how I am supposed to resist looking at the butt crack of a cave troll? I was just walking through the office and the Cave Troll pulls out in front of me, I would go as far as to say he cut me off. His suspenders, thankfully still intact this time, had dislodged and disheveled his dress shirt causing it to bunch up and raise itself. Being somewhat heavier myself I understand how shirts can easily untuck themselves. I could tell the shirt had slowly been rising, but I found it peculiar that it was only right above the cave trench. It was as if the shirt was alive and was suffering from the fumes and moisture emitted from the abyss from which all trolls come. This thought obviously was cause for some amusement on my part and I started to laugh but at the same time I remembered Bobby Steels and his traumatic experience. The whole time I'm following the Cave Troll down the hall staring at his pale, pasty, moist like a tropical rain forest, butt crack. I could literally feel the heat emitted from the source. An even more disturbing thought entered my mind, "Why can I see his butt crack? Why isn't there some sort of underclothing in place to save me from this horror?" I tried to push it out of my mind but it came and even more vivid than I wanted. The Cave Troll in all his glory standing before my mind's eye. I was abruptly woken from this walking nightmare when suddenly he turned around and asked me... "Do you have a utility knife?" I quickly told him to ask Haagen Dazs for such a tool and I chuckled to myself as he trotted off to disturb Haagy.

who i am

no i'm not an angel of god... nor am i an angel of satan for that matter. i'm a human. i consist of evil and goodness. but i expect other humans to accept that. i feel no reason to hide who i am. the good and bad parts. why would i waste my time hiding things that i think other people will object to? so what you see is what you get. the end
enough of that... i saw kill bill last night. my response: whoa. violent. artistic. disturbing. quentin is out of control. seriously, who creates a character like BUCK and then delves into that hospital comatose situation. whoa.

Death

gx: you know the most fashionable day, perhaps is when someone dies, everyone is dressed in black
wolverine: well said my son
gx: like all the people that cant dress are dressed nicely, like a calvin klein party
wolverine: morbid but well said
gx: thank you

so you see death isn't all bad. those of us that are fashionably inept will finally have our day. look for those funerals or make friends with sick people so that the funerals will come to you. sure your soul will ache and you will run in pointless circles trying to make sense of the end of mortality, but at least no one can laugh at you because you don't match.

Our Creativity

New theories on old stories, Jesus had a wife? The banana boys cruising on their Segway in the canary yellow leisure suits that only Black Belt Jones could appreciate. So they appear to be somewhat homosexual... metrosexual is ok right? Besides who pays attention anymore to the gender roles we are trying to disolve. Is that healthy? ODB has been released and now we are close to releasing Mr. SS himself, the ruler, MC Ricky D a legend among men. Knock 'em out the box Rick, knock em out.

Play that Dead Band's Song

Do you ever wake up in the morning and ask yourself "what happened to rock and roll"?? Well to be quite honest I rarely ask myself that question because I don't know what rock and roll is. In the past I have even been told that what I might call rock and roll is soft rock, even adult contemporary (nothing quite conjures the image of John Tesh as quickly as the mention of that genre)... OFFENSIVE! yeah I know, but the fact that I thought that was funny proves I am no rocker. My point here is this: if you do ask yourself where the good rock and roll is, I have the answer. Three simple words DRIVE BY TRUCKERS. I ventured to see them for a third time last night. It was worth the drive to Baltimore several times over. They rocked and thrashed about for nearly 3 energetic hours. Those good ol boys from Alabama took my hearing from me. If you love the south, the truth, and ass shakin rock n roll you've found your salvation. I know I've found mine.

Our Needy Celebrities

A number of our brilliant celebrities have come up with the perfect ideas for the future of technology. The link will lead you to the article but then you have to navigate through a list of "related articles" authored by the celebrities. Margaret Cho is particularly realistic in her technological wish list.

Destruction is a Form of Creation

For all you would be artists out there, creators of beauty, it's time to write your first novel. I'm not sure I'll be participating this year, but in the future it is definitely a goal of mine. Put the pressure on yourself.

Cave Troll

Bobby Steels rolling through the office all nonchalant, minding his own business. Now, in order to understand the gravity of this incident you must be introduced to the Mighty's Cave Troll. A large man, an old man, a grievously fat man. As is the case with many larger men, he enlists the support of suspenders to hold up his cloth coverings, also known as "pants". He is somewhat awkward in his relations with coworkers. He mumbles and roars like a cave troll would. He also has been known to abuse Bobby by asking him questions that nobody has the answers to and assigning him tasks that are not in his field of expertise. Back to Bobby rolling through the halls... the cave troll runs into an unexpected turn of events. Under the strain of his mass, his suspenders pop off of his pants and they go plunging to the floor. With one burly arm he reaches back to pull his trousers into a non threatening position, but now what? He is much too rotund to use the other arm to latch the suspender back on. Unsuspecting Mr. Steeles himself comes into the picture and lo and behold the cave troll pleads with him to latch the suspender back onto his pants. Not only does Bobby have to endure the unsightly horror of the cave troll on edge of losing his pants at any second, he also has been asked to participate in an action that would involve touching the creature's body. God bless his soul, Bobby takes action... he respectfully grabs the fastener and quickly latches it securely to the beasts panty line. Afterwards Bobby was seen nursing his hand back to health from the severe burns that were suffered due to the acidic nature of the troll's skin and nether regions. (TRUE STORY: names have been changed to protect the guilty)

Tradition

In my monthly tradition I come to you again. You being my people. You meaning those of you that could be anywhere in the world at this moment but you have chosen to be here with me. I promise it will be worth your while. I have engaged in verbal warfare in this last month on a number of occasions. Usually with the age old opponent, Ghandi X aka Candlestick. Sometimes I wonder if SS is truly the enlightened path. There are several active participants in the SS movement that make me wonder if Lucifer himself is not at the helm. A continuous perpetuator of SS, Ludacris, has put out another ENTIRE album of SS sometimes only with the one S. This man is foolish. He looks goofy, he raps about the stupidest things, and did I mention... He looks like martin Lawrence had a baby with a puppy panda. I mean I don't meant to hate, but the man is selling albums rapping about midgets and chicken and "dirty" dancing. SS is supposed to make the world a better place... Where have I gone wrong?

Comments

I believe my comment ability is up and running. Please tell me if that is true. SOMEONE!!!!

Hiatus/Sabatical

This month off has been somewhat enlightening. Month off of what? you might ask. Well as many of you know The Smooth Project has been taking all of my time, so i have been unable to process information at the accelerated speeds that you are all used to when dealing with my microprocessing unit. I have since turned back on the machine, uploaded a tremendous amount of material, raw uncut material, and it's now ready to come back at you. By the way... The Davinci Code. Gotta gotta gotta get that in your head.

Ghandi Speaks

Today: The sun came out bright and Astoria looked like a Hallmark card. I sat down for Raisan Bran and contemplated on solving the world's problems. But foremost; I thought about the beautiful waterfalls around the world. I thought about how perfect the word "waterfall" is for the natural wonder. It is true water does fall down in a "Waterfall". But suddenly a flashback came into my mind, the pictures of Udai and Oday dead. The graphic nature of those pictures. Gruesome Pictures blood spattered, chunks of meat gone, and the bodies looking surreal. I continued to eat my Raisan Bran. It was a beautiful morning. My Raisan Bran tasted so well. The smell of the milk in association with the flakes was delightful. I finally stood up said thank you for my Raisan Brans and resumed enjoying my thoughts. :]

Office Warfare

Ghandi vs. Wolverine

Celery stabs and staplers... not to mention the fatal mobile mouse. To be continued...

Tritium

If I hadn't been so in love with the black triangle, i would've changed it to the black tritium today. A new level in SS history has been reached, commonly known as the H-3 isotope. Be aware, be very aware. Tritium is the new world power. My levels are rising... not to be si but i have been on a hot streak. Ghandi says to me, "Yo, I will be making 7 figures." I respond, "Yeah if you count the dollar sign and the period... $147.65."

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"Work is the curse of the drinking classes."