From Crave Online:
The SmokeOut featured the much-debated return of Sublime, with a guy named Roman filling in for the trio's long-deceased singer/songwriter. It was a display of feel-good sacrilege that, by many accounts, should never have happened; Bradley Nowell's family and estate holders, the rightful owners of the Sublime name, have expressed their distontent. “It was Brad’s expressed intention that no one use the name Sublime in any group that did not include him," they said in a statement, "and Brad even registered the trademark ‘Sublime’ under his own name.” But a District Court judge allowed the show to go on, and remaining members Eric Wilson and Bud Gaugh returned with their own catty missive, which read, “While we all mourn the passing of our brother and bandmate Bradley Nowell some 13 years ago, Sublime still has a strong message of hope and love… Brad’s heirs apparently do not share this vision.” Or capital ambition, is more like it.
The crowd, largely oblivious to the controversy, were just happy to revel in the '90s nostalgia overload. Roman held his own, but Bradley's rambunctiously mischievous presence was a key missing ingredient in the memory-lane walk. Promoter and Guerilla Union mastermind Chang Weisberg was beyond excited about adding the new version of Sublime to the show. “The last minute addition of our very special guests Sublime is crazy. We always strive to make our shows a once in a lifetime event. I know Bud, Eric and Rome can’t wait to tear up the Smoke Out stage.” Gotta hand it to Chang - he's a great guy, and he sells it well, but come on. This is like Meg White carrying on the White Stripes without Jack, or Nirvana getting a new singer. Some bands' formulation doesn't allow for history to be written over. Sublime was one of them.
From me:
NO NO NO NO NO. Fuck that. Sublime was a pivitol part of my youth, especially as a white kid in Hawaii.
Again, fuck this. Bullshit. Terrible terrible terrible. You just don't do that. You can say it's just a name, but you would be wrong. No no no. Boycott this shit. Nothing else to be said.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Kirk Cameron: Son Of Palin
Whenever someone is being a racist, illiterate, religious nut job, I think it should be the new thing to call them a "son of Palin."
Monday, November 23, 2009
Tofurky: The Reason I am Morally Opposed to Vegans
I keep running across articles and discussions about Tofurky and the "curse" of being a vegetarian/vegan on Thanksgiving.
I am not vegetarian or vegan. I do, however, limit my meat intake to one meal a day. On top of that, I also try to live by a rule that I don't eat multiple kinds of animals within a day (though, eggs and bacon 1 or 2 times a week kills this). I watch what I eat and I regularly go to the gym.
I once heard a veggie person tell me, "Humans weren't meant to eat meat." I was dumbfounded. Usually, when I hear something stupid like this, I snap back with something. But this, this was probably the dumbest thing I had ever heard, and the audacity of the for sure manner in which it was said strangled my brain. This absurd statement always comes to me from the back of my mind whenever I hear anything about vegetarians.
Meat is what made us human. Biological anthropologists tell us that eating meat allowed our brains to grow. Furthermore, the hunting and butchering of animals continually reinforced our unique ability to develop tools.
When you give up meat, you are not only giving up the precious proteins and fats your body and brain need, you are forsaking the hardships and the knowledge of your ancestors. When you are at the Thanksgiving table with your arms crossed and you refuse a helping of turkey from your grandmother's outstretched hand, you are not giving thanks. You are selfish, and you are standing alone in your self-righteousness. You are a douche bag.
I am not vegetarian or vegan. I do, however, limit my meat intake to one meal a day. On top of that, I also try to live by a rule that I don't eat multiple kinds of animals within a day (though, eggs and bacon 1 or 2 times a week kills this). I watch what I eat and I regularly go to the gym.
I once heard a veggie person tell me, "Humans weren't meant to eat meat." I was dumbfounded. Usually, when I hear something stupid like this, I snap back with something. But this, this was probably the dumbest thing I had ever heard, and the audacity of the for sure manner in which it was said strangled my brain. This absurd statement always comes to me from the back of my mind whenever I hear anything about vegetarians.
Meat is what made us human. Biological anthropologists tell us that eating meat allowed our brains to grow. Furthermore, the hunting and butchering of animals continually reinforced our unique ability to develop tools.
When you give up meat, you are not only giving up the precious proteins and fats your body and brain need, you are forsaking the hardships and the knowledge of your ancestors. When you are at the Thanksgiving table with your arms crossed and you refuse a helping of turkey from your grandmother's outstretched hand, you are not giving thanks. You are selfish, and you are standing alone in your self-righteousness. You are a douche bag.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The review I submitted about my Health Science Class
I really enjoyed this class, and the regular amount of speakers Mrs. Stillner introduced to us. However, there was one class session in which two speakers were present, and I did not see the point of either of them being in the classroom. These speakers were the Naturopath and the Police Officer.
The attendance of the police officer, I found to be just pointless. The Naturopath, however, I found to be utterly reprehensible. I commend myself for finding the ability to not shout obscenities at her, instead focusing my frustrations on my lower lip which had clear indentations from my incisors. A hippie, pseudo-science has no place in the university. It was really painful to sit through, especially as she darted from one stoned hypothesis to another. I shudder everytime I think of her describing the human soul; "the light in your eyes". Only in well-off, white liberal towns would people pay money to visit such a medicine woman. I'm sure she has several rainstick therapies to soothe my irritability.
The attendance of the police officer, I found to be just pointless. The Naturopath, however, I found to be utterly reprehensible. I commend myself for finding the ability to not shout obscenities at her, instead focusing my frustrations on my lower lip which had clear indentations from my incisors. A hippie, pseudo-science has no place in the university. It was really painful to sit through, especially as she darted from one stoned hypothesis to another. I shudder everytime I think of her describing the human soul; "the light in your eyes". Only in well-off, white liberal towns would people pay money to visit such a medicine woman. I'm sure she has several rainstick therapies to soothe my irritability.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Self-Destructive Behavior
Yesterday at the gym, I was on the stationary bike, on the program "weight loss". I had the earbuds of my iPod plugged into my earholes (or as my Bio Anth class would call it, my "external auditory meatus"). I wasn't playing any music because I had some reading for a class to catch up on. I only wanted silence.
About three to five minutes into my workout, I hear some grunting from the man on the elliptical behind me. The first time I heard it, it didn't strike me as anything out of the ordinary. Then, it became rhythmic. Every twenty seconds, two grunts, three grunts. I noticed this as something called "stimming." This is a behavior closely associated with autism. My brother is autistic, and he makes throat noises that are described as "popping".
Many people who know me may never notice this, but I, too, at times have a stimming disorder. I have, at intervals, had bouts of prolonged blinking, eye-rolling, lip-biting, breath-holding, and what I think could be the strangest: finger counting. When I was 14 and 15, I would go through these periods of plucking the top joints of my fingers to add up to the number five. I would pluck each one, one time for five. Then, two fingers at once, followed by the other three. Four fingers and then one. Needless to say, I probably looked like a freak. People never seemed to notice this last stim, but they would notice my eye-rolling and often call me on it (and not in a nice way).
I think stimming is common amongst siblings of mentally handicapped persons. My only evidence of this is what I have gathered from my own behavior and of a childhood acquaintance of mine. My friend would harshly blink repeatedly, so harsh that his head would jerk down whenever he did it. I'm undecided, however, if stimming is a behavioral trait inherited, or if it is simply caused my prolonged stress. My childhood friend and I, as siblings of severely, mentally handicapped persons (and we both lived in strict religious households, him more so) lived in VERY stressful environments. Looking back on it now, I kind of wish that we would have connected more on this shared struggle, but we were young and too interested in X-Men and basketball cards.
I thought I should add that stimming feels horrible. It makes you hate yourself. You try and stop it yourself, but it is impossible. For me, the only solution has been to physically remove myself from whatever environment was making me stim. This took a long time to realize.
Anyway, this guy at the gym was obviously stimming, but I wasn't sympathetic towards him like I probably should have been. Instead, I became angry. In my head, I was screaming, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" and after five minutes worth of hearing his cadenced grunting, I angrily slammed down my book and pushed play on my iPod, blaring Queens of the Stone Age into my head.
Now, I was pedaling faster.
About three to five minutes into my workout, I hear some grunting from the man on the elliptical behind me. The first time I heard it, it didn't strike me as anything out of the ordinary. Then, it became rhythmic. Every twenty seconds, two grunts, three grunts. I noticed this as something called "stimming." This is a behavior closely associated with autism. My brother is autistic, and he makes throat noises that are described as "popping".
Many people who know me may never notice this, but I, too, at times have a stimming disorder. I have, at intervals, had bouts of prolonged blinking, eye-rolling, lip-biting, breath-holding, and what I think could be the strangest: finger counting. When I was 14 and 15, I would go through these periods of plucking the top joints of my fingers to add up to the number five. I would pluck each one, one time for five. Then, two fingers at once, followed by the other three. Four fingers and then one. Needless to say, I probably looked like a freak. People never seemed to notice this last stim, but they would notice my eye-rolling and often call me on it (and not in a nice way).
I think stimming is common amongst siblings of mentally handicapped persons. My only evidence of this is what I have gathered from my own behavior and of a childhood acquaintance of mine. My friend would harshly blink repeatedly, so harsh that his head would jerk down whenever he did it. I'm undecided, however, if stimming is a behavioral trait inherited, or if it is simply caused my prolonged stress. My childhood friend and I, as siblings of severely, mentally handicapped persons (and we both lived in strict religious households, him more so) lived in VERY stressful environments. Looking back on it now, I kind of wish that we would have connected more on this shared struggle, but we were young and too interested in X-Men and basketball cards.
I thought I should add that stimming feels horrible. It makes you hate yourself. You try and stop it yourself, but it is impossible. For me, the only solution has been to physically remove myself from whatever environment was making me stim. This took a long time to realize.
Anyway, this guy at the gym was obviously stimming, but I wasn't sympathetic towards him like I probably should have been. Instead, I became angry. In my head, I was screaming, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" and after five minutes worth of hearing his cadenced grunting, I angrily slammed down my book and pushed play on my iPod, blaring Queens of the Stone Age into my head.
Now, I was pedaling faster.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Bus Stop Memories: In the Doorway
Recently, I've been listening to alot of The Misfits (the true version of the band, with Glenn Danzig as the singer), a band who I ADORED when I was 19 to 22. This song "In the Doorway" was released as an "unreleased" song for a reprinting of Static Age in 1997.
I remember carrying my bulky portable CD player, gently nestled in the pocket of an old Air Force jacket my dad gave me, along with my backpack, jampacked with schoolbooks and five or six CDs(each in their respected jewel cases). Waiting and waiting and waiting at the bus stop in the snow in Juneau, or in the red dirt and garbage of Oahu, slowly meandering back and forth, singing this song to myself. I was in love. It's not even 2 minutes long, but it grabbed me, and I don't know how many times I pressed the Prev track button on my CD player.
It seems only a few others really loved this song like I did, and maybe it's not for everybody, but it is for me. The first video here has the original, and the following videos are people doing covers, which I was surprised to find.
Girl with a piano. She does this song so much justice. And such a unique version. I think I love her.
Acoustic (though the audio is a little crazy; keep the volume down):
I remember carrying my bulky portable CD player, gently nestled in the pocket of an old Air Force jacket my dad gave me, along with my backpack, jampacked with schoolbooks and five or six CDs(each in their respected jewel cases). Waiting and waiting and waiting at the bus stop in the snow in Juneau, or in the red dirt and garbage of Oahu, slowly meandering back and forth, singing this song to myself. I was in love. It's not even 2 minutes long, but it grabbed me, and I don't know how many times I pressed the Prev track button on my CD player.
It seems only a few others really loved this song like I did, and maybe it's not for everybody, but it is for me. The first video here has the original, and the following videos are people doing covers, which I was surprised to find.
Girl with a piano. She does this song so much justice. And such a unique version. I think I love her.
Acoustic (though the audio is a little crazy; keep the volume down):
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
This Is Angoon
To reiterate, I live in Juneau, which is located in Southeast Alaska. Among the many towns and villages in this sparsely populated area is Angoon. This . . . is Angoon:
Yep.
Yep.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Logan is insane. Did you hear he's going to Africa?
Yes. I'm going to Africa in three months.
Why?
Most simply, because I want to. I could go on and on about wanting to do some humanitarian work, wanting to see gorillas, seeking to fulfill a need for conquest, or whatever. I won't. I just feel the need to learn something about this place that most people are too afraid to go. Through alot of reading, looking at pictures, and watching tv, I've fallen in love with the image of Africa that I have in my mind. And I know, that these images I have now will be completely torn to bits once I set foot on that continent.
I am a little scared, but I'm more excited than frightened.
I always look for humor in every situation I'm in. And what I find most funny right now are the responses I get from people, when they hear I'm going to Africa. The comments do vary, but most fluctuate between extremely negative and border on (and sometimes definitely cross over into) racism.
AIDS, malaria, thieves, kidnapping, guerrilla armies, machetes, potbelly children with flies on their faces.
People have no idea what they're talking about, and so they just say whatever they see on TV, just so that they have something to say. You know what people who have no idea what they're talking about should say?
"I don't know anything about that. Tell me about it when you come back."
That would be an alright response.
Instead, I have to overcome an audience of pessimists, on top of the pressures of saving money, getting visas, shots, maps, etc.
It would be stupid not to heed without precaution, and that's not what I'm doing. I'm reading, I'm researching, I'm loosening a blindfold.
Just to provide an example of my point, let's say you're moving to Kentucky. You don't really know why you're drawn to it, but you want to go. Maybe you'll like it, maybe you won't. You know what people will tell you? Rednecks, moonshine, incest, "squeal like a pig, boy! (Georgia), "what do you tell a woman with two black eyes? Nothing, she doesn't listen."
I don't know what it is that makes people bring up the worst when talking about travel. I guess its a need to protect, or a fear of the unexpected. Don't know. You could hypothesize all day. But I'm not. I'm going to take everyone's cynicism with a spoonful of sugar.
Why?
Most simply, because I want to. I could go on and on about wanting to do some humanitarian work, wanting to see gorillas, seeking to fulfill a need for conquest, or whatever. I won't. I just feel the need to learn something about this place that most people are too afraid to go. Through alot of reading, looking at pictures, and watching tv, I've fallen in love with the image of Africa that I have in my mind. And I know, that these images I have now will be completely torn to bits once I set foot on that continent.
I am a little scared, but I'm more excited than frightened.
I always look for humor in every situation I'm in. And what I find most funny right now are the responses I get from people, when they hear I'm going to Africa. The comments do vary, but most fluctuate between extremely negative and border on (and sometimes definitely cross over into) racism.
AIDS, malaria, thieves, kidnapping, guerrilla armies, machetes, potbelly children with flies on their faces.
People have no idea what they're talking about, and so they just say whatever they see on TV, just so that they have something to say. You know what people who have no idea what they're talking about should say?
"I don't know anything about that. Tell me about it when you come back."
That would be an alright response.
Instead, I have to overcome an audience of pessimists, on top of the pressures of saving money, getting visas, shots, maps, etc.
It would be stupid not to heed without precaution, and that's not what I'm doing. I'm reading, I'm researching, I'm loosening a blindfold.
Just to provide an example of my point, let's say you're moving to Kentucky. You don't really know why you're drawn to it, but you want to go. Maybe you'll like it, maybe you won't. You know what people will tell you? Rednecks, moonshine, incest, "squeal like a pig, boy! (Georgia), "what do you tell a woman with two black eyes? Nothing, she doesn't listen."
I don't know what it is that makes people bring up the worst when talking about travel. I guess its a need to protect, or a fear of the unexpected. Don't know. You could hypothesize all day. But I'm not. I'm going to take everyone's cynicism with a spoonful of sugar.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
Snuggie "Wild Side"!!!
I took this video last night with my webcam. This is my gf trying on the Snuggie "Wild Side", with yours truly narrating. She told me not to put this up on the internet, so I did.
And if you say Snuggies aren't funny anymore, you can go fuck yourself in a sleeveless blanket. Enjoy.
And if you say Snuggies aren't funny anymore, you can go fuck yourself in a sleeveless blanket. Enjoy.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
Fuck you, Sarah Palin
I live in Alaska, and I just gotta say, Sarah Palin is a dumb fucking cunt. You don't prove you're ready for something bigger by quitting mid stride during the thing you are currently involved in. Prove yourself, bitch. McCain picked you in a time of desperation. You are NOTHING.
My friend Melissa, did this, and I couldn't ask for a more fitting image:
My friend Melissa, did this, and I couldn't ask for a more fitting image:
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Samurai Grandpa
This is a picture of my late, grandpa Cliff Lott. Clearly, he was awesome. It's too bad those samurai swords cost him his life. I miss you grandpa.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Taco Pizza
Looking for pizza videos on youtube and found this:
Seriously, if this dude delivered pizza to my house, I'd be really scared. Something about this video, when I finished watching it, I felt like I had been raped.
Seriously, if this dude delivered pizza to my house, I'd be really scared. Something about this video, when I finished watching it, I felt like I had been raped.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Pizza Everyday In Every Way
I've been taking a ridiculously long break from this blog, and I know, it's gone on too long.
But I'm back! And guess what? I'm soon going to be running the show on a pizza place here in beautiful Motherfucking Juneau, Alaska. Oh yeah! Look at me now mom and dad! Logan is king of the pizzeria! I know you thought I'd be a lawyer, a politician, or maybe a playwright or architect someday, but here I am, knee deep in pepperonis! Oh lordy, lordy, what splendiferous a fate!
So, I'm adding some new things to the menu here at Pizzeria Roma, such as a bruschetta and a smoked salmon pizza (though the salmon will probably be freeze-dried from Washington, dumb tourists will eat that shit up, literally I guess. What a fucking stupid pun).
Anyways, I decided to check out youtube for some video recipes. The very first time I enter pizza into the search bar, I get this:
Yep, motherfucking deep-fried pizza. I think that's the fattest shit I think I've ever seen. And I think I'm just white trash enough to say, "Yeah, I'd eat it once." I'm really no better than that fat guy at the end of the video, who probably wasn't even fat before he bit into that thing. Look out you filthy, pesto-eating, holier than thou Juneau hippies, succumb to my veritable hot pocket of ooey gooey pleasure.
But I'm back! And guess what? I'm soon going to be running the show on a pizza place here in beautiful Motherfucking Juneau, Alaska. Oh yeah! Look at me now mom and dad! Logan is king of the pizzeria! I know you thought I'd be a lawyer, a politician, or maybe a playwright or architect someday, but here I am, knee deep in pepperonis! Oh lordy, lordy, what splendiferous a fate!
So, I'm adding some new things to the menu here at Pizzeria Roma, such as a bruschetta and a smoked salmon pizza (though the salmon will probably be freeze-dried from Washington, dumb tourists will eat that shit up, literally I guess. What a fucking stupid pun).
Anyways, I decided to check out youtube for some video recipes. The very first time I enter pizza into the search bar, I get this:
Yep, motherfucking deep-fried pizza. I think that's the fattest shit I think I've ever seen. And I think I'm just white trash enough to say, "Yeah, I'd eat it once." I'm really no better than that fat guy at the end of the video, who probably wasn't even fat before he bit into that thing. Look out you filthy, pesto-eating, holier than thou Juneau hippies, succumb to my veritable hot pocket of ooey gooey pleasure.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
Time Out 4 Pervin'/ Black History Month: Elise Neal
In celebration of Black History Month, I'm going to say what has to be said.
I like black chicks. I'm also a hairy, white nerd that currently lives in Alaska. Some people say that's weird. I guess so.
Say hello to my future wife (not LeBron james, the chick at around the :21 mark):
Apparently, her name is Elise Neal. Somehow, I have to get her up to Alaska. According to this picture, I think she's already keen to my scheme.
HAPPY BLACK HISTORY MONTH, LOGAN
That's it. I'm getting a subscription to King magazine.
I like black chicks. I'm also a hairy, white nerd that currently lives in Alaska. Some people say that's weird. I guess so.
Say hello to my future wife (not LeBron james, the chick at around the :21 mark):
Apparently, her name is Elise Neal. Somehow, I have to get her up to Alaska. According to this picture, I think she's already keen to my scheme.
HAPPY BLACK HISTORY MONTH, LOGAN
That's it. I'm getting a subscription to King magazine.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Margaret Cho sucks
I'm a huge nerd for stand-up comedy. I follow it the way people follow indie-rock or underground hip hop.
So, as a comedy nerd, no, as a human being with a sense of humor and half an intellect, let me voice my opinion that Margaret Cho sucks. She's one of those comedians that has harnessed a dumb cross section of the population. She's the Larry the Cable Guy for liberals.
I'll admit she was funny in the early 90s. And now, she has become this:
She brings nothing original to the table. She is not funny. I hate it that someone who is so painfully average in their attempt at art is praised the way she is. Basically, she's the teacher in Art School Confidential who paints triangles over and over again, because that's what he's found his niche in. (Yes, Matt Jones, I copied this comparison from you. Whatchu gon' do bout it homie?) She's found her niche in humoring liberal idiots with gay stereotypes, fake ebonics, and anti-Bush shit talking. We've heard it before Margaret. We've heard it. Can you at least say it in a way that's new and perhaps funny?
So, let me put it in a way that Margaret Cho would be able to understand,
Girlfrenn, u ain't funnay. U needs a new job o some shyit.
By the way, this is funny stand-up:
Yeah, a bit about gay marriage that is original and funny.
And here, my favorite female comedian, Maria Bramford on George W Bush, kind of:
So, as a comedy nerd, no, as a human being with a sense of humor and half an intellect, let me voice my opinion that Margaret Cho sucks. She's one of those comedians that has harnessed a dumb cross section of the population. She's the Larry the Cable Guy for liberals.
I'll admit she was funny in the early 90s. And now, she has become this:
She brings nothing original to the table. She is not funny. I hate it that someone who is so painfully average in their attempt at art is praised the way she is. Basically, she's the teacher in Art School Confidential who paints triangles over and over again, because that's what he's found his niche in. (Yes, Matt Jones, I copied this comparison from you. Whatchu gon' do bout it homie?) She's found her niche in humoring liberal idiots with gay stereotypes, fake ebonics, and anti-Bush shit talking. We've heard it before Margaret. We've heard it. Can you at least say it in a way that's new and perhaps funny?
So, let me put it in a way that Margaret Cho would be able to understand,
Girlfrenn, u ain't funnay. U needs a new job o some shyit.
By the way, this is funny stand-up:
Yeah, a bit about gay marriage that is original and funny.
And here, my favorite female comedian, Maria Bramford on George W Bush, kind of:
Thursday, January 22, 2009
A Love Supreme
I don't want anyone to think I've converted to Christianity or anything but this is the shit:
It's Part 4 of John Coltrane's A Love Supreme, performed live with the liner notes being read throughout. I find it to be oh so soothing. Anyone who knows me would describe me as a staunch athiest. Call me a hippie, but I'm of the opinion that God is the title you could give to everything in existence. The Sun is God, the Moon is God, Gravity is God, Electric Eels, Caffeine Addiction, Cancer, Trees, Fleas, Snow Peas. This life we all are a part of as well as the death that follows are God.
Clearly, Evolution is God. It thinks. It reacts. Yet I don't believe God is a man in the sky that judges us for how we have sex, or who we vote for, or if we cram our bodies, bound by loneliness, into a building, read from a book, and give money to a man with a funny hat.
So, yeah, God is a thing without shape. A shapeless thing that thinks. Like a jellyfish.
It's Part 4 of John Coltrane's A Love Supreme, performed live with the liner notes being read throughout. I find it to be oh so soothing. Anyone who knows me would describe me as a staunch athiest. Call me a hippie, but I'm of the opinion that God is the title you could give to everything in existence. The Sun is God, the Moon is God, Gravity is God, Electric Eels, Caffeine Addiction, Cancer, Trees, Fleas, Snow Peas. This life we all are a part of as well as the death that follows are God.
Clearly, Evolution is God. It thinks. It reacts. Yet I don't believe God is a man in the sky that judges us for how we have sex, or who we vote for, or if we cram our bodies, bound by loneliness, into a building, read from a book, and give money to a man with a funny hat.
So, yeah, God is a thing without shape. A shapeless thing that thinks. Like a jellyfish.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Freedom of Speech
People's youtube comments never cease to amaze me.
This is the comment on a video entitled "Re: DON'T FUCK CHILDREN". I don't really know how I got to this video in the first place.
This is the comment on a video entitled "Re: DON'T FUCK CHILDREN". I don't really know how I got to this video in the first place.
buffalosoldier90 (7 months ago)
wen i was in prison i bent over sum dude who got convicted for fuckin hisn 11 yr old niece. i plugged his ass for a good 40 minutes then pulled out and made him suck the blood and poop off my dick(it was his first dick and after 40 minutes he was bleedin alot). i told him if he didnt say it tased like a yummy popsicle i wuz gonna knock out his teeth and make him gimme a gumjob
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
#1 Child Artist - part 2 "Slape Me"
I really like how the teacher ignored any signs that this was somehow child abuse, and just stamped it anyway. "Good!" I probably deserved getting "slaped" in the face anyway.
Child Artist #1
You know those journals you had to keep in elementary school? Well, guess what? My mom kept pretty much all of them. I got my hands on them recently and I've finally started scanning them onto the internets.
This is the first in a series of I don't know how many.
Nice penis shaped hat. You know with a hat that big, he has to be the owner of the barkey.
This is the first in a series of I don't know how many.
Nice penis shaped hat. You know with a hat that big, he has to be the owner of the barkey.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
RIP Tourette's Guy
Tourette's Guy never gets old. Thanks to fixthemetal for reminding me of this shit. I had no idea that he passed away, but, I mean, he did seem to be quite a tortured guy.
Who says mental illness can't be funny?
Who says mental illness can't be funny?
The Lights
The plan for me to shoot this piece fell through, so in the meantime, I'm just going to post the script I wrote here.
This piece is based upon events that have actually occurred to me. Notice that I said "based", because three quarters of this script is solely of my own creation. Most of the dialogue in "The Lights" never happened, they are simply pieces of my internal monologue that branched off into other imagined sequences.
I can't seem to find a better place to put this thing, so here I will put it, freshly copied and pasted. Oh, and If I see anyone using it, I will kill them.
Just kidding.
No, I'm not.
So, here it is, to prove that I'm competent of finishing something that I start.
INT. BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS
LOGAN and MAGGIE continue to make out as MAGGIE moves the both of them toward the light switch. She turns the light switch off. There is no light. It is absolutely pitch black in the room.
LOGAN turns the light switch back on, the entire time the two have not stopped sucking face.
LOGAN and MAGGIE, still inseparable, move toward the bed. Almost at the foot of the bed, in the middle of the room, MAGGIE reaches toward the ceiling fan and pulls the string of the bedroom light. Having outsmarted him, there is complete darkness again.
INT. IN BED - CONTINUOUS
In the darkness, LOGAN turns on a small lamp which sits on a bedside dresser. The light reveals the two in bed. LOGAN is shirtless and in his underwear. MAGGIE is down to her bra but still is in jeans.
LOGAN
Why do you keep turning off the light?
MAGGIE
I don't like the light.
LOGAN
Why not?
MAGGIE
You know . . . I just have body issues. That's all.
LOGAN
But I want to see you.
MAGGIE
You can see me. There's enough light.
LOGAN
Maggie, I'm sorry, but . . . you're black.
MAGGIE
Wait a minute . . . You're sorry I'm black?
LOGAN
No! That's not what I mean!
MAGGIE begins to get out of the covers and leave as LOGAN protests.
He grabs her by the arm. MAGGIE stops to listen though she is visibly upset.
LOGAN quickly turns off the light. In the darkness, MAGGIE disappears. LOGAN is clearly visible.
LOGAN turns the light back on.
Both are yelling.
MAGGIE just sits at the edge of the bed. LOGAN is sitting on the bed with his back against the wall. He is speechless.
MAGGIE repositions herself close to LOGAN. They turn to one another, looking into one another's eyes.
LOGAN
I guess we're both kinda racist.
LOGAN
I still want the light on though.
MAGGIE
No! I told you I have body issues!
LOGAN
Body issues? Maggie, look at me! I'm covered with body hair and shitty tattoos.
MAGGIE nods agreeingly.
MAGGIE climbs onto LOGAN, straddling him. They begin kissing again.
This piece is based upon events that have actually occurred to me. Notice that I said "based", because three quarters of this script is solely of my own creation. Most of the dialogue in "The Lights" never happened, they are simply pieces of my internal monologue that branched off into other imagined sequences.
I can't seem to find a better place to put this thing, so here I will put it, freshly copied and pasted. Oh, and If I see anyone using it, I will kill them.
Just kidding.
No, I'm not.
So, here it is, to prove that I'm competent of finishing something that I start.
------------------------------------------------------
THE LIGHTS
LOGAN, a white male in his 20s, and MAGGIE, a black female in her 20s, are making out heavily as they sidewind their way out of the living room and into the bedroom doorway.INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
INT. BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS
LOGAN and MAGGIE continue to make out as MAGGIE moves the both of them toward the light switch. She turns the light switch off. There is no light. It is absolutely pitch black in the room.
LOGAN turns the light switch back on, the entire time the two have not stopped sucking face.
LOGAN and MAGGIE, still inseparable, move toward the bed. Almost at the foot of the bed, in the middle of the room, MAGGIE reaches toward the ceiling fan and pulls the string of the bedroom light. Having outsmarted him, there is complete darkness again.
INT. IN BED - CONTINUOUS
In the darkness, LOGAN turns on a small lamp which sits on a bedside dresser. The light reveals the two in bed. LOGAN is shirtless and in his underwear. MAGGIE is down to her bra but still is in jeans.
LOGAN
Why do you keep turning off the light?
MAGGIE
I don't like the light.
LOGAN
Why not?
MAGGIE
You know . . . I just have body issues. That's all.
LOGAN
But I want to see you.
MAGGIE
You can see me. There's enough light.
LOGAN
Maggie, I'm sorry, but . . . you're black.
MAGGIE
Wait a minute . . . You're sorry I'm black?
LOGAN
No! That's not what I mean!
MAGGIE begins to get out of the covers and leave as LOGAN protests.
He grabs her by the arm. MAGGIE stops to listen though she is visibly upset.
LOGAN
No, Maggie. I love that you're black. You're beautiful. And it's a beautiful thing that we have here. It's just that . . . when you turn off the lights, I can't see you.
MAGGIE
I cannot believe you. You ridiculous man. Logan . . .
LOGAN
Just watch.
No, Maggie. I love that you're black. You're beautiful. And it's a beautiful thing that we have here. It's just that . . . when you turn off the lights, I can't see you.
MAGGIE
I cannot believe you. You ridiculous man. Logan . . .
LOGAN
Just watch.
LOGAN quickly turns off the light. In the darkness, MAGGIE disappears. LOGAN is clearly visible.
LOGAN turns the light back on.
Both are yelling.
MAGGIE
Oh my God.
LOGAN
I told you!
MAGGIE
I cannot believe you just did that. What is wrong with you?!
LOGAN
See what I mean? See?!
MAGGIE
See what?! What the fuck was turning off the light for a second supposed to prove?!
LOGAN
I told you! I can't see you in the dark!
MAGGIE
Why the fuck do you wanna see me so badly anyway? Oh, I know, you just wanna see me so you can keep sayin' to yourself,
(in mocking white voice)
"Oh my God, I'm actually fucking a black girl. Wait until the guys hear about this back at the office."
LOGAN
I told you!
MAGGIE
I cannot believe you just did that. What is wrong with you?!
LOGAN
See what I mean? See?!
MAGGIE
See what?! What the fuck was turning off the light for a second supposed to prove?!
LOGAN
I told you! I can't see you in the dark!
MAGGIE
Why the fuck do you wanna see me so badly anyway? Oh, I know, you just wanna see me so you can keep sayin' to yourself,
(in mocking white voice)
"Oh my God, I'm actually fucking a black girl. Wait until the guys hear about this back at the office."
MAGGIE just sits at the edge of the bed. LOGAN is sitting on the bed with his back against the wall. He is speechless.
MAGGIE
Racist shithead.
LOGAN
Racist?! You're calling me a racist?! What the fuck was that white voice all about? That's unfair!
MAGGIE
(Sighing)
You're right. I'm sorry.
Racist shithead.
LOGAN
Racist?! You're calling me a racist?! What the fuck was that white voice all about? That's unfair!
MAGGIE
(Sighing)
You're right. I'm sorry.
MAGGIE repositions herself close to LOGAN. They turn to one another, looking into one another's eyes.
LOGAN
I guess we're both kinda racist.
MAGGIE and LOGAN kiss.
LOGAN
I still want the light on though.
MAGGIE
No! I told you I have body issues!
LOGAN
Body issues? Maggie, look at me! I'm covered with body hair and shitty tattoos.
MAGGIE nods agreeingly.
LOGAN
And I'm really white. I mean, I feel sorry for you. It must be like making it with some kind of albino gorilla.
MAGGIE laughs. LOGAN nudges her.
MAGGIE
I still don't get it why it is that you absolutely have to see me.
LOGAN
Come on. You don't think that visual stimulation is an important part of sexual intercourse?
MAGGIE
(sarcastically)
Oh my, you really know how to get a girl in the mood. I just love it when you say "stimulation". Mmm "intercourse". Makes me sooo wet!
LOGAN
Yeah, yeah. Shut up.
And I'm really white. I mean, I feel sorry for you. It must be like making it with some kind of albino gorilla.
MAGGIE laughs. LOGAN nudges her.
MAGGIE
I still don't get it why it is that you absolutely have to see me.
LOGAN
Come on. You don't think that visual stimulation is an important part of sexual intercourse?
MAGGIE
(sarcastically)
Oh my, you really know how to get a girl in the mood. I just love it when you say "stimulation". Mmm "intercourse". Makes me sooo wet!
LOGAN
Yeah, yeah. Shut up.
MAGGIE climbs onto LOGAN, straddling him. They begin kissing again.
MAGGIE
You're just lucky you have a big dick.
The two continue kissing a few more times.
LOGAN
Ya know that really means a lot coming from a black girl.
MAGGIE turns off the light.
You're just lucky you have a big dick.
The two continue kissing a few more times.
LOGAN
Ya know that really means a lot coming from a black girl.
MAGGIE turns off the light.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Illegal Use Of hands
Great new movie coming out. Actually, I don't now if it's coming out or if this is just a trailer for a fake movie. Either way it has two of my favorite new comedians, Kyle Kinane and Matt Braunger.
Devo kills it
The choreography in this video is just amazing. And purple dome hats instead of red? Brutal.
The purpose of the hats, called "energy domes", according to the devo website:
It was designed according to ancient ziggaurat mound proportions used in votive worship. Like the mounds it collects energy and recirculates it. In this case the Dome collects energy that escapes from the crown of the human head and pushes it back into the Medula Oblongata for increased mental energy. It's very important that you buy a cheap plastic hardhat liner, adjust it to your head size and affix it with duct tape or Super Glue to the inside of the Dome. This allows the Dome to "float" just above the cranium and thus do its job. Unfortunately, sans hard hat liner, the recirculation of energy WILL NOT occur.
The purpose of the hats, called "energy domes", according to the devo website:
It was designed according to ancient ziggaurat mound proportions used in votive worship. Like the mounds it collects energy and recirculates it. In this case the Dome collects energy that escapes from the crown of the human head and pushes it back into the Medula Oblongata for increased mental energy. It's very important that you buy a cheap plastic hardhat liner, adjust it to your head size and affix it with duct tape or Super Glue to the inside of the Dome. This allows the Dome to "float" just above the cranium and thus do its job. Unfortunately, sans hard hat liner, the recirculation of energy WILL NOT occur.
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