That's 64 dicks, before you ever put your hands on mine.

I'm back. I've been away from this blog long enough, I think, I've been writing on mypace a lot, but I'm back to this one because it leaves me a signifigantly increased amout of leaway. Not because of any real constraints, I just feel that this page is more true to my hate.

That being said, what do I have to say?

Nothing sadly, I'm in love with a stripper that hates me, I didn't know she was stripper until recently, but I've known she hated me since the first fight she started, why is that such a turn on? Anwho, I'm trying to get a new job, though all things conspire against and for me in equal portions. It's very frustrating.

I'm done talking for now.

end transmission.

Notes on pulling the sky down.

In celebration of my achievement today I ate an entire chicken. I sat down and feasted, there was so much grease and chicken juices that my fingers got all pruny like when you stay in the bath tub too long. I feel awesome. The circle of life and all that shit. What achievment would warrent such a glutonous celebration, you ask?

What achievment, indeed.

I'm leaving the internet behind for I while, I have some focusing to do, but fret not! I shall return and I will be much more interesting for the holiday.

end transmission.

Come back to me, please, or I'll kill myself.

Jerry Hatcher worked part time in a grocery store. While none of us could get jobs he could always get one. He had his little movie star face and his mother had a great body. With his face and her body he didn't have any trouble finding employment.
"Why don't you come up to the apartment after dinner tonight?" he asked me one day.
"What for?"
"I steal all the beer I want. I take it out back. We can drink the beer."
"Where you got it?"
"In the refrigerator."
"Show me."
We were about a block away from his place. We walked over. In the hallway Jimmy said,
"Wait a minute, I've got to check the mail." He took out his key and opened the lock box. It was empty. He locked it again.
"My key opens this woman's box. Watch."
Jimmy opened the box and pulled out a letter and opened it. He read the letter to me. "Dear Betty: I know that this check is late and that you've been waiting for it. I lost my job. I have found another one, but it put me behind. Here's the check, finally. I hope that everything is all right with you. Love, Dan." Jimmy took the check and looked at it. He tore up and he tore the letter up and he put the pieces in his coat pocket. Then he locked the mailbox.
"Come on."
He went into his apartment and into the kitchen and he opened the refrigerator. It was
packed with cans of beer.
"does your mother know?"
"Sure. She drinks it."
He closed the refrigerator.
"Jim, did your father really blow his brains out because of your mother?"
"Yeah. He was on the phone. He told her he had a gun. He said, "If you don't come back
to me I'm going to kill myself. Will you come back to me?" And my mother said, "No." There was
a shot, and that was that."
"What did your mother do?"
"She hung up."
"Alright, I'll see you tonight."

end transmission.

Another Dead end story.

Well, I guess I've been running myself too thin, four different blogs are too many to keep original. This one has definitely been suffering the worst and it isn't fair since it was my original soap box to bitch loudly into the quiet abyss of the interweb. My original idea was that I didn't want to have any of the blogs be the same....but In the end I only live 4 or 5 different lives, which, sadly, only amount to enough interesting blog material for .356 blogs.

I don't know if I'm gonna break that streak today...uh...

Let's see, some of the stuff not covered here....uh, I fucked my 2nd drunk Vegas stripper....I went three days without booze, um....I don't know..uh Ian went to jail....he's still there at press time...uh a mexican bathroom custodian busted in on me while I shat at the gym....I saw pirates of the carribean 2, which was awesome.

I broke a condom a few weeks ago, but did not recieve an STD or a baby.

end transmission.

Vanilla Sex.

I can't sleeep, what else is new, right? I tried all the normal remedies, I jerked off twice, read some of my own writing, went to CNN.com, all tried and true methods foe unconsciousness! But to no avail!

That, of course, led me to start drinking, which led to listening to Fugazi, which led me to think about dogs, which led to weiner dogs, which moved me to think of love and then a steady course straight to death, then I came right back up to guitar, which brought me to Slash and Guns 'n Roses, and then I restrung my acoustic guitar, and then I played it, then I realized I suck and made another drink, which led me here.


Albert CAmus said, "Yes, man is his own end. And he is his only end. If he aims to be something, it is in this life."

What, then, are my aims? Let's ponder this at the moment. There are, of course, both, short, medium, and long term goals (Did you catch that, I said both but I listed three antecedants(sp)). Short term....vodka, carne asada, vitamins, sex, money.
Medium Term...better job, vodka, carne asada, sex, money.
Long Term...Kids and family, death.

Alright, so maybe I have no idea what I want in the long term, but I sure know what I don't want.

Herepes.

end transmission.

Made up dreams.

Today I decided not to run for mayor of Las Vegas, though I did enjoy the limited kickbacks just for being nominated.

Yesterday a mexican lady got arrested for shoplifting at Albertsonson's.

end transmission.

No man's friend.

Jean-Paul Satre said, "hell is other people"

The french existentialists are really spot on, usually. This idea was cemented for me in Clerks with the line, "I hate peole, but I love gatherings."

I've been thinking about this a lot, and I feel it, but don't really understand it. that is always a dangerous place to be, always. It leads to all sorts of problems, not the least of which being genocide or mass immolation.

Why I am I so misanthropic, but at the same time so drawn to large social gatherings?

The answer? i am facinated by what it is like to be like you. I have never been one of you, I have always seen this world from an outsider's perspective, and that belies a certain ego, I know, but it's true.

You are not me. We have a lot in common, but the way you are is a foreign to me as Russian script. I am, and have always bee, different. SOme of you know what I mean, and that is why we have become friends...otherwise, I just don't get you fuckers. The way you think is a mystery to me and I hate you for it.

end transmssion.

Pictures of You.

No one ever looks at some dried up, loser ad says, that will probably be me someday. But those people never thought that either, and now they are...well, dried up losers.

Someone spiked my drink.

end transmission.

...the sound of failure isn't here...yet.

My life is boring and moving forward quickly. So, in other words, nothing is happening, very rapidly.

end transmission.

Ghost in the Lighthouse.

I have discovered something. You cannot kill a puppy and expect it to stop loving you.

end transmission.

She said she was in love with me, and now she don't need me....

I feel like this blog is now an assignement from a teacher who doesn't actually read what I turn in. Listen to Against ME! and the Fairlanes. Throw in some LAgwagon, and JAwbreaker. In fact, Listen to "Dear You" over and over again until you wan to to kill yourself. God it's amazing, how did I live so long without it...."I love you so much it's killing us both," shit.

Anyway. All the black girls I work with have white boyfriends. They all have kids with these dudes. None of them are married. What the fuck? Have I been missing out somehow? I've fucked almost every flavor of girl, but never Negro. Korean, Mexican, Japanese, German, White, Canadian, Slutanese, Cambodia, desperate and drunk, i've had a pretty diverse sexual portfollio, but the blacks, They intimidate me a little bit, and I hate people who pronounce "th" as "F". Birf Day makes me want immolate the whole world! Eat writer pretension!

Is pretenesion a word? maybe I should axe a dictionary.

end transmission.

Not a dull moment.

I work at a casino, I wander around at all hours of the night not really doing anything of any real value to the further the human race. Last night a drunk stripper sat down at the bar next to some dude. She was in her early thirties, maybe just turned thirty, but she had an amazing body and, oddly enough, big fake boobies.
As most of you know, I find the most sensual part of the woman to be the boobies.
Anyway, she is absolutely throwing herself at this guy, who is having nothing to do with her inebrieated overtures. Is the guy gay, married, who knows, it doesn't really matter, this girl is determined to go home with this guy no matter what.
She is so intent on this goal that she sits there for two hours trying to seduce him, meanwhile drinking like my grandma at christmas time. Desire vs. Bladder....the winner?
This grown woman pissed her pants in public! She ran to the bathroom, well stumbled really, but was too late. She came back out summoning the dignity necessary to cover her crotch and ass with her hands.
So now, one would expect that all was lost! No! She just tied a coat around her waist and picked up were she left off! Awesome!

end transmission.

...like the shower rod, can it take my weight?

Contrary to popular opinion and the article in USA Today, I am still breathing. Though my breath smells like vodka and peanuts, I am still thriving. It's just that nothing interesting has happened in a while and I don't feel like making anything up.

I did talk to a $300/hour prostitute at work a few days ago. She was by far the most expensive call girl I've ever met. I asked her how much 30 seconds would cost, and she laughed. She was very attactive and surprisingly smart. We talked about stuff.

end transmission.

Until morale improves, the beatings will continue!

Williams, Chopper check out my new blog for the first chapter of that story...I'll post more every few days...I just hate the fucking ending and am almost done making it worse. Enjoy. All content is copywritten 2006 by DaubvonDaub any use of these stories without my express written conscent is prohibited. All stories are in almost doen, still tweaking form, so I reserve the right to change anything I want. So there.

http://bleedingfromtheanus.blogspot.com/

Also I clogged the toilet at work. Agian.

end transmission.

Accident Prone.

So I guess some former CA Cop kidnapped some 14 year old boy and made the lad suck his dick at gunpoint. Now, if you haven't sucked dick at gun point, let me tell you it can be a very uncomfortable, and somewhat terrifying experience. Doubly so for a small boy of 14, I'd imagine. Mouth raping a little kid, that I something I do not condone, I mean make the kid lick your balls while you jerk off, or toungue your asshole a little, sure, but don't make him chug your hog, not cool.

end transmission.

Here we go.

I have two mains topics of discussion here tonight. The first is single hot women. You cannot trust that any girl over the age of....23, that's kinda arbitrary (who I've never actually had to spell that word, "are bit trar iy"), but it's kinda like definging a pile of sand. One grain is not a pile, neither is two grains, but what about 5,000, if 5,000 is a pile is 4,999 a pile or not,...you get the point anyway..

They either have a kid, and were dumped soon after the father got the news, a situation, that by the way is really your safest best, 'cause the reason she's single is obvious and may not be any sort of psycological miswiring, OR

there's something so wrong with this girl that even though she is so fucking hot, that is not enough to keep some guy, any guy, which is gotta be a doozey. There are a shit ton of desperate dudes, lots of them rich, just by the law of probability eventually you should find the right person given almost infinite choices.

"Well, maybe she dumped him, did you ever think of that, jerk?." Maybe, but I have no data to support that hypothesis, my test group is by no way omni-inclusive of every woman on earth, but theses conclusions are based on exhaustive field study. women stay with men that beat them, for christ's sake. If someone beat me up on regular basis, I would not hang around with them, unless they were really hot, which emphasises my earlier point. What the fuck could be so wrong with girls like this? I don't know but I bet if I talk to her for longer than ten minutes, she will tell me. I could range anywhere from being molested as a child, to, and I quote, "I feel like , if I love a guy, he better fucking love me back or it drives me insane," No shit.

So what do we d? Fuck ugly girls. Sadly no, they have a different set of issues, and more than normal because they haven't even got the consolation of being hot. And they are too expensive to feed. Fuck no one, that won't work. Turn Gay? No. Well...no.

We need to get our shit together and get those robot prostitutes into the streets! You know the Japs have had sex-bots forever, that's why they have so much economic power, they all fuck angelina Jolie every night, (well why not have 2 or 3, really), with not STD's or bullshit, and they can focus on fucking us all over. They have a master plan, robot whores are only the beginning.

Fuck curing cancer, I don't wanna live past 60 anyway, we wouldn't have to cure aids 'cause, robots are very hygenic. Screw all that shit because I would rather have a Gwen Stefani-bot blowing me right now, and every day till the batteries run out, than I would living another 100 years. Hurry up nerds! It will help you (us) the most...only we can free man from a burden he has carried since time immortal!

That probably didn't make a lick of sense.

end transmissions.

If I could be serious for a moment.

Why are old people so fucking stupid?

I often forget that everyone is stupid, though, I think that young people are stupid in groups, and old people are stupid as individuals. Alright, I get that if you were still alive when horses where used as transportation, an airplane or a fucking computer might be a little hard to understand. That makes sense.

I mean since the beginning of the human race, we have helped those who cannot cope with change. Some would say that was God's plan all along. Evolution only reached these heights we have attained by promoting teamwork and brotherhood. Basically the family paradigm, I need you to help me with the work of society, so I will bully you into learning all the shit you need to to keep ME alive, and then you can do the same, until we get to the moon. Dads needed sons to help farm the wilderness, and daughters to marry other people's sons and unite giant families and have tons of kids, to increase the familial workforce. That's basically what Wal-Mart has become to all those fucks who can barely read, or the elderly. Their 15th century father.

Where was I? Oh yeah, old people not being able to use computers...I'm bored already. Boredom is a disease worse than cancer. The cure is not this blog.

Chopper, Williams, I'll send you that story soon, you win the top two spots in the list of the two people who read this thing. I needed to change the ending, too much death and blood.


end transmission.

If I would have known, just how things would have ended up, I would have just let myself die.

I have been neglecting, this my first blog, for another, two actually, but here I am, back to bore you all with nothing.

Let's see, X-men 3 sucked. I lost a shit ton of money gambling last weekend. I met a girl from Australia who said I was "the maddest bloke," she had ever met. She had big tits, and freckles. Her name mas Madlyne, I don't know how to spell it, but she was a little hot in a crazy, drunk sorta way.

Not much else, really, Bokowski said that the life of a writer was to go collect shit, pile it on, until you had to relieve yourself of it, I don't have enough piled up, it seems, not yet....

Fuck american Idol.

end transmission.

As you were...

Life continues, one hangover at a time. Saw some good bands last night, skipped out on work, won some money at poker. Hangover lingers...anus still functional.

end transmission.

I can be as stupid as anyone...

Well, due to some computer bullshit (I still don't know why), my internet Bookmarks list was resest to it's 1998 listings. After wondering why I was suddenly so interested in magic cards again, and why I was relearning about the Shakespearean sonnet, or why I thought Kathy Ireland was so hot, I realized what had happened. Man, internet porn has come a long way, and not all for the better! Before anyone was paying attention one could watch small russian children sodomize their moms with corn cobs, but now...god fucking luck finding that link!

Anyway, I lost the address to this blog and only through divine intervention was I able to return! I only wish I had something good to report. Ian and I have been getting drunk and fucking bitches, though it is Ian doing most of the fucking, though to be fair he does still manage to pull his weight drinking and does more than his share of the gambling.

We have a coke dealer, now, finally, though after a particularly bad bender, each of us have decided to stay away from it until we forget how bad it is and decide to do it again. The guy, is well, I can't really tell you about him, secrecy being important in his line of work...so, dead end.

Uhhh...what else...I met a really cool chick and talked to her on the phone for a really long time, so long, in fact, that I got horribly drunk and do not remember how the phone call ended. Did I promise to call her back, did I say something stupid? Probably. So Carrie if by some weird chance you're reading this, sorry, unless I didn't fuck anything up, and if that's the case don't read on...and all I can say in my defense is that If your a dick the first time you meet someone, it only gives them the chance to say something like, "At first I thought he was an asshole, but now that I've gotten to know him, I realize he's a massive asshole." If you're nice right off the bat, well then people just walk all over you.


Thank you Big Chris for keeping this blog at number one on blog city. If I prayed I would pray for you, but I don't so I will just think of you you when I see footage on CNN of little dead sand niggers.

end transmission.