Monday, March 31, 2008

The Missing Link

The Jedi Creed

I Believe in The Living Force Of Creation;

I am a Jedi, an instrument of peace;
Where there is hatred I shall bring love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, joy.

I am a Jedi.
I shall never seek so much to be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love;
For it is in giving that we receive;
In pardoning that we are pardoned;
And in dying that we are born to eternal life.

The Living Force Of Creation is always with me; I am a Jedi.

Drewus Cartoon


My good friend Chris did a sketch of me--kinda kooky.

The Circle of Life

Great Vid on the Brain

Thursday, March 27, 2008

BMX needs a motive!!!

Kind of a strange feeling, downloading the new Panic at the Disco. If you heard, "Nine in the Afternoon," you might understand.

I lived today.

I work with these guys!!!

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Steppenwolf - Monster


Wings Chinese Fortune

"Contentment is just around the corner for you. Look forward!"

Thank Christ!

Mosaic of the Lost

Today is Science Fiction

InUteroni and Drewsus went up the hill yesters to see Queen Carla and Rat Fink. We talked about gun rights, the war, 2012, Steppenwolf, how shatty and soul-sucking it is (was) to work for the state of California, sex, more guns and a rough outline of what we alpha males should do if Bush declares marshal law. Now, I'm no militia man--but I think it's important to be mentally prepared for the worst case scenario. If the shat hit the fan, the city is worst place to be. If the police state took control--they would be more successful in the cities, initially. I think it's a good thing to have a neo-hippy in the hills who would take us in so we alpha males could plot our survival. And it helps that the Queen has a family of Floridian crazies who are more paranoid than him with connects to the Top Haters.

My brain was full at the end of the night after I dropped Chris off at his apartment. I got home in time to see Carolla dance and chat up with Urka about the opposite sex and and how bullfrogs can predict the temperature in the springtime.

Went to bed before Kimmel for once, exhausted. The police chopper lulled me to sleep. Maybe the meeting yesterday was kismet. Time will tell.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Happy Resurection, Jesus!

Gotta Love California

Kinda funny when you hear the two doors down prostitute's heels clicking outside my window amidst the symphony of quail calls.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Kill Your Children

I feel older today. Wiser? Maybe.

Friday, March 21, 2008

The Hammer

My roommate is the best around. She gave me a movie pass to see "The Hammer" this weekend.

I owe Urka a lot. If there are any readers out there that are heavy-set, muscular, stalky, has a goatee and likes hiking, romantic comedies and Starbucks--hit me up. Because I have the girl for you.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

I Guess You'll Do

Public Personas

I think we all do it. Lie to ourselves. Our ego demands that we maintain a facade that is uncharacteristic and unreal. We hide behind these public personas to maintain what exactly? A demention that can shatter with just the soft stroke a ball ping. Then the glass shatters and we are exposed, naked. Then what good are we?

I think Frued was a genius--but he should have kept his mouth shut. A lot of what we know works against us. If we could undo the damage of knowledge, couldn't we live better lives? I dunno, it sounds like a nice place to return, when ignorance was bliss and living like the part mammal we are.

There are few times in my life when I shed this persona in question--and to tell the truth, I was happy and fearless--two things I am affraid of being again. Why? I guess I feel like to be truly fearless and happy is unAmerican. I know that sounds cynical, but to me--it's the truth. Think about your life--think about the things you do (or don't do to a larger degree) because you fear the result your mind's eye plays out for you. And say you took that fearless step--is the result ever as bad as the worst case your retarded brain projected. Hardly ever, in my experience.

This is why I blame He-Man. He-Man was like a god in my kid eyes. I remember getting He-Man toys when I turned 5 and I remember watching the show like it was a religion. And growing up in a agnostic household, it kinda was. So you have this pseudo-omnipotence who hides his true self away behind the false shroud of a prince. The Prince is what Adam truly is, but he projects that he is the Man of He--yet that part of his life hidden (although people of Eternia are kinda dumb not to figure out the similarities between Adam and He-Man--how many dudes in the kingdom are rocking the blond Anton Chigurh haircut.) I guess it's the Superman complex told in another way--which is derived from the dilemma of Jesus.

I have know idea what I'm trying to say.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

R.I.P. Arthur C. Clarke

16 December 191719 March 2008

Adam Carolla on Dancing with the Stars

At about 3:35 into the video you can hear him call Carrie Ann Anaba (sp?) a bitch!

Adam Carolla is my hero!

Disappear Here

Why is it that we never say the thing we truly want to?

Fear of rejection? Fear of losing the ones we love with out biting words with razor sharp vampire teeth. I run into this wall a lot. I usually talk myself into keeping the words to myself, then maybe I can evaluate the feelings behind them and get at my core being. Not saying it's the best way to go through life, but I've been this way since I can why change now.

To the risk of sounding like Adrianne Curry, I'll stop with the unspecific banality of words throw together into a confusing scope of trivializations. My blog is better than that.

Anyhow, I went to 3R today with the 'rents and watched mallard ducks tussle in one of those three rivers. Three Rivers is where my roommate hales from and and she claims to want to go back some day. I am starting to see what she has always seen growing up there. It is a truly unique and beautiful place--one of the central valley's best kept secrets. I'm thinking of buying a house there after I make my first million. Not to live, but to escape the bs. I need that some days and it would be awesome to have a place of familiarity to return to to be one with nature and revisit the core of my being my soul yearns for. I know that sounds like hippy shat, but who cares. I always told my friends Shannon that I am a neo-hippy (ie one that baths and has a job).

All I know is that I miss things in my life...certain tangibles that have made me happy that have been absent the last few years. And now that the curtain of grad skool is lifting (my last month)--I am finally at a point in my life where I can make those tangible things happen. And if I do it alone, so be it.

Note: Parents are bickering about plans to Omaha this summer. Things are about to get weird.

Funny Games

So, Funny Games came out this weekend. Didn't hear how it did--nobody cares. I saw the German ver. last week and was physically ill watching it. I'm sure the U.S. version will be good too. It seems more flamboyant than the Euro version. The German version is like an emotional snuff film that cross-hibernates Clockwork and In Cold Blood. It fs with your sense of reality.

In other news, the Rockets have won 22 straight. Obama's pastor is a sheep in Stevie Wonder's clothing and Caroll called that Carrie Ann chick on DWTS a bitch.

New Blog

I WAS HAPPIER THEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Here it is. My new blog. I hope this is the bestest blog ever and when mf's look back at what started it all, you'll read this and say, "that mf knew it all along."

I want to keep clean, so I'll abbreviate certain cuss words because girls that I end up kissing say I cuss too much. Why is it that girls you kiss end up telling you your faults? Sooner or later, they do.

But what I wanted to say--or what Jimmy Kimmel said better, is that the new contestants on American Idol look like a bunch of flaccid tapioca people.

That picture of me is from 1986.

Who do you think God calls when the shat hits the fan?