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I am a boiling pot of seething rage. I am a
volcano of anger. I am a hot cup of pissed off soup. I am a tingly lump of
enraged mosquito bite. I am a tangled knot of wrathful shoelace. I am an
inflated balloon of angst-filled hemorrhoid. I am a stinky wad of unhappy
Stomping on kittens.
Some people write openly about what they're
feeling, post it on the web for everybody to read. Not us cowards, though.
Nope, we stomp on kittens.
You know you're retarded when you go through
your own website looking for recent updates, and are disappointed when you
don't find any.
Turns out, I'm retarded.
Hidey-ho friends and neighbors! I damn near
fergot that I had me a website! No worries, however, I've come back to
spew idiocy into the ether once again. For those none of you interested in
my life, I won't talk about it any more, other than to say I'm back on the
wagon, TV-wise. Video games, however, are another story. I also feel I
should mention the fact that I've been out of the house somewhat more than
usual, and without the accompaniment of my faithful computer, ISHMAEL,
I've been unable to keep the creative juices flowing and the fapping as
frequent. I'm sure you can understand how this puts a kink in the creative
I'm on the cusp of writing a
lot again. If y'all care, and if y'all beleive me (I wouldn't), There
shall be more words here. Can I get a Hallelujah? No? Can I get a Yay? How
about a Meh?
If you can read this and you know it, clap
your hands.....or send me an email.
Okay, so yesterday wasn't my best day for
writing. Not that any other day is any better. But, I'll be damned if I'll
apologize for offending any of you! You uppity colored and
over-compassionate honkies...damn your eyes, all of you!
Did you know that 'honkey' is not kosher
with Microsoft's spellcheckers? 'Honky' is, however. Who knew? I always
thought that both spellings were acceptable. Thank God that Microsoft is
on the ball, and has taken the initiative in defining acceptable racial
slurs along with everything else.
Anyway, TV. I used to not watch much TV. I
went maybe a year without really watching anything except the Discovery
channel (not the faggy design shows, you fags) or the History channel (not
the faggy diving shows, you fags) or other non-sitcom type goodness. I
didn't avoid TV to be cool, but the separation from the constant onslaught
of commercial advertisement and repetitive jokes that are only funny
because the laugh track tells you its funny gave some insight. It sort of
gave me this holier-than-thou attitude towards people who spent their days
gushing over episodes of Stupid Actors Being Lame or Unoriginal Exploitive
Recently, my situation has changed, and
I've had free time in the evenings. This is a novelty; I've been working
at night for years and years. Since I've been working nights for years, I
don't have any kind of social life to speak of at night. Therefore, I have
resorted to television.
I'm off the wagon.
The only difference between then and now is
that now I just look down my nose at the shows themselves instead of the
people who let themselves get carried away with them. I still hate TV, but
now I hate it the way heroin addicts hate the smack. I'll curse its name
as I'm pushing the plunger.
There is so much to write about how and why
I hate TV, but I don't feel like typing any more, and really, isn't one
short newsy columny thing a day for two days more than you ever expected?
Sure it is. Now fack off.
Alias does standup...
Woo-hoo and whiz-bang! Hey, hey kids, it's
time for another fun installment of Boring Shit Nobody Really Wants To
Read But They Feel Obligated To Because Their Friend Put It Online!
As both of you know, I write stuff on this
website approximately once a month. So, I felt it was about time to write
more, in order to keep my approximations approximate. I don't have
anything to write about, so I'll just riff off of the crowd, like those
nifty Hollywood-style stand-up comedians and comediennes, who for some
reason are spelled different just because they lack the all-important
Hey, so I see we have some jews in the
audience tonight! How about them jews, huh? Oh, I'm supposed to capitalize
that. Somehow, Jews think they're good enough for capital letters. Fucking
Jews....Some black folks too, huh? That's a race a man can get to love.
Hard working, them black folks are. They just need a little encouragement.
(Insert rimshot here) I'm just kidding, my soul sisters and brothers!
Black people though, those black people, I tell you....um....I got nothin.
OH! Here we go.
A black guy walks into a police station,
and he gets shot. BADA-BING! Ouch! What the fuck? Security, remove those
people throwing glasses at me? Yeah, the brown ones in the front there.
Sir, you in the front, what is your name?
Hernandez? OOOOHHH! We gots us a spic here! How's them beans, paco?
Come on, that was funny! You fucking
people....I'm leaving. You people have no sense of humor. You'd think that
the fucking ACLU annual fundraiser would have some fun people at
(Alias walks off stage. Sounds of a mauling
FUCKING GREASY WOPS! AAAAAAARRGHHHH!
HEY! It's APRIL FOOL'S DAY! Oh, wait, that was
yesterday. Fuck. It was the day before? Oh well.
I put up a new
movie to look at. I think it's
sorta funny. You might too. Gander at it.
In lifely news, in five more days I shall
no longer be duly employed. As a member of the elite group of Americans
with only one job (and one that pays slightly more than minimum wage, at
that) I shall have countless seconds of free time on a monthly basis
during which I may compile random groupings of words into 'stories' or
'columns' or 'articles' or 'incoherent drunken ramblings.' Whichever suits
Furthermore, fuck all of yous. Hard. In the
ear. With a shotgun. KA-POW! Like that.
The Pope died today. He was very old. You
probably don't know who he was. Hope you were right dude.
Mitch Hedberg died today. He wasn't very old.
You probably don't know who he was. RIP, dude.
My anger from a week ago, it wasn't enough.
One thing that gets me moving like nothing else is anger. This sucks,
because I am not an angry person. I need to make my own anger. That makes
me into an asshole. I get bitter. I get cold. I get cruel. Just the way
you love me. But that anger that I got from outside, it didn't last. I
worked a week of 14 hour days, and barely finished it intact. I have
nothing to look forward to but more 75-hour work weeks. This is not
angering, this is is wearying.
This is sort of good, I guess. I thought
that working my ass off, I would lose my creative urge, and my need to put
horrible, disturbing things on paper or hard drives. Turns out, I was
wrong. I was a little worried that a regular job might turn me into a
happy, normal, functioning person. I was wrong. I'm not worried about that
any more. I will always be a fucking mess, turns out. Good for the world.
You all suck, by the way. If you're
reading this, you suck. But at least you aren't watching TV. The longer I
go without watching TV, the more I become convinced that it is a horrible
invention. It was a great step up to something else, but somewhere we got
lost, and stayed on that step, buying MopNGlow and Oreos. Donate your TV
to somebody who really needs it: the trash.
Thanks to certain ass-y people, I am unable
to sleep. The whole anger thing has me twitching and whatnot. Maybe I'll
type the situation up at some point and call it fiction. I get the feeling
that it will be over soon anyway, so maybe I can fictionalize my life
sooner rather than later. Since nobody but one vagino-american would have
ANY clue what I'm talking about, that that particular person is not likely
to read this before it stops being pertinent, I will move on to happier
Upon further review, it
becomes clear that there are no happier subjects. I start my new job
tomorrow. I should finish a good book this morning. Neither of those
things gives me any great joygasms. I feel the urge to punch brick walls
and stomp on babies, like those French people making wine...but....out of
babies...I will call it L'Enfant du Pieds 2005. See, writing it in
italics made it foreign. Oh well, I try to sleep now. I will giggle and
seethe at this incoherence in the morning, methinks.
Just a short one this time. Due to a lack
of distractions, I have added the vast majority of the content from the
old site. Not that you haven't already read it. It was just easier than
writing new stuff. Enjoyed.
You ever have one of those days? I know, I
know, this isn't a 'blog,' and I am not supposed to bitch about my day and
stuff, but I don't mean one of those days where you crap your pants and
the bank robs you and you are informed by the hospital that you actually
died four days ago and are now technically a zombie. I mean one of THOSE
days. The days nobody else had...like in that horrible made-for-TV (and if
it wasn't it should have been) movie made from a mediocre short story The
(not for you, yesterday morning for you was two days ago for me) I woke
up, and nobody was home. This is normally a good thing, as I go into my
Tom Cruise impersonation and go to the Scientology center to be audited
about my past lives and engrams and whatnot (ha, ha, you thought I was
going to say I danced around in my underwear, didn't you? Joke's on you,
whores...I dance naked) but this was a different kind of nobody home.
Nobody was home on Earth. I walked around and there was nobody there. This
was the best day of my life.
I mean that. I had dreamed
about this day at least once every day for the last 10 years. I was free
to blow things up, eat all the food in the supermarket, blow things up,
steal cars, blow things up, smoke random plants in the police station, and
blow things up. The first thing I did, though, was take a nap. That was a
bad idea. See, I wasn't the only person left behind for a day, or stuck in
a time gap for a day, or put in a bad movie for a day, or whatever. See,
it happened like this...
I was sleeping in a
park, on a bench. I've always wanted to be homeless, you see. I woke up,
and the first thing I saw was, I thought, Mount Rushmore. Well, one of the
faces from Mount Rushmore. Then, my vision cleared, and it turns out it
was just a zombie. I screamed, like any normal person, because the zombie
had a hand on my weenie.
There is something
undeniably horrifying about waking to a zombie grasping your tool. But it
got worse. The zombie said 'How old are you? Sham-BOOIE!' And then,
its nose fell on me. I then realized that, no zombie this, it was Michael
Jackson! I slapped that pale bitch across the face (all of which came off
in my hand, like in South Park) and ran like a dirty little whore, which
is what I felt like after being probed so indecently by that weenie-hungry
me-o-phile. And I ran. I ran so far away. I ran all night and day. Well,
all day anyway. At some point, I woke up again and it was this morning and
I had to go to work.
Thus endeth a
stupidly long news post that contains no news whatsoever.
Okay, so, the Pope is going to totally die
soon. Everybody is all sad. Boo, hoo, the old man is going to croak. I'm
not catholic. I'm not any religion. I think organized religions are, as a
group of groups, fucking retarded. Especially since the three largest ones
all bow down to the same God, yet the followers of each really want the
rest to die. Anyway, the old wrinkly Polack is huffin his last few cans of
paint these days. You say 'BOO!' I say 'YAY!'
People die, man.
That's what people do. You're going to die. I'm going to die. Your mother
is going to die, if the bitch hasn't already. Hell, you might help her
along there. If everybody dies, and its a known fact, why the HELL does
everybody get all fucking weepy when somebody shits the farm/kicks the
bed/buys the bucket/etc.? You can look at any baby and go 'YOU'RE GONNA
DIE!' Its mother will take it away from you, and people will think you're
evil like me, but at least then maybe they won't be so surprised when the
thing dies on them.
Don't get me wrong, I
know that it can be sad for somebody to die. If it's a kid, then of course
it's sad. Dude got gypped, man. But, if its somebody with more than five
decades under their belt, you gotta know it's coming. You can't look at
your overweight, 68 year old neighbor with no hair and false teeth and
think "that guy is TOTALLY going to be around to see Haley's comet next
time!" If you're really close to somebody, fine, you can miss them. If
it's your spouse or parent, okay, you mourn them, because it profoundly
changes your life. But unless that dude got hit by a bus, you shouldn't be
Back to ol' Popey.
The guy is over eighty years old. I'd tell you exactly how old, but it
doesn't really matter, and I'm too lazy to check. He's EIGHTY. It is time
for him to die. It's not like we can expect him to hold out for another
two decades. For some reason, though, Catholics around the world are
praying for him to recover. This says two things about Catholics.
One, they are
HUGE suckers. They still believe in the 'prayer' thing, when it hasn't
done jack shit for them. If that shit worked, I'd be a millionaire, my
parents never would have caught on to my marijuana usage, I would have
gotten laid at the age of 12, I would be driving a Maserati, and all of
you would be dead.
Two, they don't
understand how people work. The whole dying thing, I mean. You gotta die.
Are they hoping for a miraculous recovery so the guy can just die NEXT
week? Even if that happened, the idiots would still be surprised and get
all weepy and shit. Doesn't that strike anybody else as monumentally
retarded? The people who believe in HEAVEN are crying because the holiest
man on the planet just died at the age of EIGHTY something (yep, still
lazy). Let him die! When he dies, go 'YAAAAAY!' Not because he's dead and
no longer in pain and, as you catholic folks believe, has gone on to an
eternity of happiness, but because he lived so fucking long. Give the guy
a 'YAY!' for what he did, not for what he didn't live long enough to do.
That goes for the rest of the people who surprised the world by dying
before never, too. Friend of yours have a relative die? They lookin' for
some sympathy? "Be happy he's dead!" That'll earn you a black eye, but
maybe, after the swelling goes down, you can explain to them why you said
it, and maybe they'll be a little happier. If they are, shoot them. We
don't want people TOO happy.
(To anybody who
actually read this ridiculously long post, email me for a free cookie.
I am sending this from...THE FUTURE! That's
right! THE FUTURE! In THE FUTURE we always write the time in caps. That's
just how we roll. Also, we have added a new month, the 13th month,
Ahemmbuary. This month is the baddest month you have ever done seen, kid.
We had to strap a bunch of rocket motors onto the planet and keep 'em
running for like a week to slow Earth down enough to add a whole month,
and now the planet is falling slowly into the sun, but it was totally
Anyway, from the future, I'm here to tell you to all stop being such
dumbasses. I already know that none of you will listen, and lots of bad
things (the Great Donut Shortage of 2021, alien invasions in 2006, 2013,
and 2021, that last causing the Donut Shortage, the huge cloud over the
Atlantic that smells like farts, the huge cloud over the Pacific that
smells like homeless people, and the huge cloud over the Indian Ocean that
rains farting homeless people, not to mention World War IX, in which Ed
Deroches saved the world) will happen. But my conscience requires that I
try, anyway, in case Star Trek was right and you CAN change the future
FROM the future, even though for you it's the present, and it is already
happening, so you can't hump your grandmother or any of that jazz.
don't worry so much about North Korea....its fuckin' Nepal you have to
keep an eye on....Shazbat and Shalom, biatchbots. (That's FUTURE talk for
'Shazbat and Shalom, biatches')
Here is a fucking news update. In the
bloggy spirit of things and shit, I'll tell you about my life. My life, or
'loife' as I call it when speaking in a terrible Irish accent, is a
horrible desert of normalcy. Damn you all for not giving me tons of money
to make me fabulously, unusually rich so that I could do amazing things
and get myself lots of attention for dropping thousands of dogs from an
airplane 20,000 feet over New York City.
I got a new job. That
might explain that crazyness up there. Yay, money. Boo, getting up before
noon. The sun is not a thing to be seen as much as a thing to hear about
secondhand, as far as I'm concerned.
now. Oh, this website....what is there to say that has not been said?
Nothing, that's what. I'll settle for repeating myself: This site sucks.
And you thought there'd be something new...
I am the greatest person on Earth. I found
a random old site backup on my hard drive. Now all of you can read the old
horrible shit you had hoped was lost forever! I will still write more
words for those of you who aspire to bulimia but don't want to use the old
finger method. My words will make anybody hork a load.
Holy bajeezus, do I suck. I mean, not like
a shitty made-in-America vacuum suck, I suck like the biggest
motherfucking black hole to ever have sucked.
Turns out, much of the stuff I had on the old
AHEMM.org existed only there on the web server. I had no other copies.
Additionally, turns out, somehow all of
the old web bits got magically fucked up. They got magically fucked up
very, very badly. They're so magic and fucked up now that I have lost much
of my 'work.' The only saving grace being that the word 'work' has to go
in quotes for a very good reason. Oh well, c'est la vie. (That's French
for 'fucking kill me')
Happy new year, a few months later.
This site is dead. I buried it. I put a
stake through it's heart. It began to decay. My muse went on vacation to
South America and became hopelessly addicted to cocaine, had a sex change,
and began working the beaches in Brazil.
Then...KAPOW, ZING, and BAM! That crazy
zombie virus from those video games came and brought it back to life. The
site, not the muse. Now it wanders through my mind, its face a shambles,
its wiry hair clotted with crumbling earth, looking for brains to eat.
Alas, I am fresh out of brains, so I will feed it all I do have:
repetitive strings of words torn from an extremely limited vocabulary.
I apologize in advance for any upbeat
attitudes expressed on here in the near future. I didn't mean it.
Holy Bajeesus, this site looks crappier
every time I touch it. I'm like a crap fairy. But, like, not the fairy
At any rate, I should
have the site totally done soon. I mean like, you'll be able to
look at junks and read craps that I have writted, just like you could do
before I dove into the world of multiple colors and different fonts...and
gaudy hyperlink effects...I hate rainbows.
This is the first news of the new layout.
For all the old news, you can check out the news
There really isn't much to say here. The site
is still being worked on, and I think that with more boredom and the
oncoming misery of winter there will be much more to read here.
In my life news, I am and have been out
of school for a while now, and am the proud holder of what is likely to
prove a useless degree. The years I spent in school weren't useless, I
learned a lot of shit, but the subject I degreed in...well, degrees don't
do much for folks in that profession. If I only knew then what I know now,
I would have just become a pimp. Pimps have it made, man. All that pimp
slappin and pimpin and wearing faux fur. That's the life...