Eating the ass out of 2005!

Finally! The end of 2005 is in site!

This has been a particularly difficult year not only for myself, but for all of those I am close to. Close to home, this year has brought tidings of pain, saddness, deceit, betrayal, failures, unemployment, sickness and death! Not so close to home this year bore war, natural disasters, sickness, death......you know, this now being in written form is making this past year seem not so different than any other year before it. But it has felt different, more amplified to a volume that at times was unbearable! It could be that I did end up spending this year a lot less drunk and my spongy brain was able to retain and comprehend more, but I doubt that.

No, this year had been born with a poisonous thorn in it's ass that made it mad at the world and seeking revenge. I have recently been told that possibly God itself sent this year upon us as a test of our character, and if that's so, I know a lot of people who have failed and will have to be held back another year! Good luck to those poor bastards! Myself, I don't remember enrolling in God's class so it can stuff this pop test up it's Holy Ass....I'll drop out even if it guarantees me an incomplete when I die.

Now, I'm not saying that this year was all bad, not at all! I have spent time with some amazing people, learned who my true and lifelong friends are and met some more. I had been shaken out of my self-imposed creative hiatus and routine and borrowed money from my muse! (on interest I might add.....fucking muses!)

But that being said, I am glad this year is finally sounding it's death rattle and is making it's way to the Great Year Graveyard, which is a lot like a secret elephant graveyard, but with a lot less elephants....and by a lot less I mean none....none being zero......quit looking at me!

Oh, but this year is NOT going to get off that easy! No! It's going to take a mountain of porn! But that's not even what I'm talking about when I say getting off, pervert! No, this year will not be allowed to join those that came before it in their final resting place, it needs to be put down before that thus sending it into a purgatory where it can remain forgotten....I want this year to have the inability to resurface in ghost-like form (much like Obi-Wan did with Luke....I'm a nerd, what can I say?) keeping it from reminding me of itself, telling me who my real father is, not to follow the Dark Side, or to remember to put on pants before going out!

A hunting party has already been established, consisting of myself and my friend Clint.....more like a hunting duo.....that complains and threatens one another....ok, more like two dumbasses weilding sticks and walking in circles constantly asking the other if they know where they're going.....and it has recently come to my attention that Clint doesn't know and thanks to him we're now lost! My original plan was to use Clint as bait, and when 2005 pounced on him and started to feed, I was going to raise my weapon while all at once losing my nerve....and then I run like hell screaming and shitting myself! But now it seems that I'm going to have to just kill Clint and live off his carcass if I want to make it to see 2006!

If anyone finds this letter, Help! I am lost in the wilderness and running out of Clint soup! Please send money and an Xbox 360!

God damnit.....I hate 2005!

shitting on the wind chimes....

it's one am.....Clint is watching a movie.....and I can tell by the volume that he's watching it from four blocks away.....either that or he's hidden a fucking speaker in my pillow.....and watching it from three blocks away.....

My train of thought derailed again killing a small shanty town of migrant

I recently received a message from one of my friends, Shoobedoo, about how her son, Pvt. Caboose, liked my last blog so much that he reposted it complete with my brother's additions (a shout out to both of you by the way...woot!). Rereading it with my brother's input added made me realize how similar both our senses of humor are (now follow me here, this is the way my train of thought works when allowed to go unchecked)....which led me to think to myself, "well of course, we're both cut from the same jib." Dramatic pause....then, "What in the path of God's good Fart is a Jib anyways?" This led to a mental image of a medium sized, opaque grey grelatinous cube just wiggling alone on a stand...the ever elusive jib in all it's glory! "What a clever looking jib!", someone might say. "I'll cut two pieces from it and release them into the world to see if anyone can tell that they came from the same jib...A CONTEST I DECLARE!!" ...followed by the removal of two corners, because honestly...that's where you'd start cutting a cube. Then I thought of all the mishapen cuts made from non-corners of the jib and what the kinds of people that would make....flash to an image of Nelson (see earlier blog) pointing at things with his elbows. Enter now another person who sees the molested jib. "Who the hell's been cutting on the jib?!" - "Oh, that was me. Sorry." - "Who said you could just go and cut on the jib?! Just look at it now!" - "Wait a minute, why the fuck do I have to ask for permisson to cut the jib?" - "Is it your jib? NO! I don't think so! Do you know how hard it is to find these things anymore?" - "Wait a minute! Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?!"
At this point I find myself yet again alone and laughing out loud to myself, and I wonder if Clint ever hears this upstairs and just thinks that I'm insane? I think my jib was left out in the sun too long before my brother and I were cut from it...that definately would explain the sour milk smell.