You Want to See the Best Thing Ever?

Okay, I'll show you the best thing ever:

Peanuts, by Charles Bukowski

The Darjeeling Limited Trailer

It sucks that this is such a great year for movies yet I will probably see the fewest new movies I've seen since the early 90s.

The Darjeeling Limited Trailer

Nazi Pop Twins

Last night I watched a documentary that recently aired in Britain about Prussian Blue. The fact that their mother allowed this documentary to be made is beyond me, but I guess she's just an idiot. She's the one who wants the attention and this was a good way for her to get on camera, I guess. The poor girls, though. It's made perfectly clear in the movie that they've started to realize the entire world hates them and that what they're being taught it wrong. Of course, their mom treats them like shit and calls them cunts when they say anything that's anti-white pride so they don't really have a choice in the matter. The whole family is a fucking mess and grandma, bless her heart, is the only one who seems to realize this. She told the camera crew about the getaway plan for the girls once they turn 18. Well, that probably won't work now. Hopefully they don't kill grandma. Her husband claims to have shot six Mexicans who were trespassing on his property. Mud people, he called them. Yikes...

It was really sad because it's obvious that the girls just want to be normal but they're not allowed that option. Then, at the end, the filmmaker had to get all self-righteous and start calling out the mom in front of the girls forcing the girls to stand up for their mom because she's their mom and they have no friends besides her. It was very reminiscent of that guy who made the Kurt and Courtney movie. It might have been the same guy even, although I kind of doubt it. That guy loved being on camera whereas this guy barely ever was.

Anyway, if you want to see this search Nazi Pop Twins on Youtube. I don't feel like linking it. It's broken into five parts.

The Wildwood Flower

The song "Traveling Soldier" by The Dixie Chicks makes me weep like a baby. Every time that third verse comes around it's all over. I had not heard this song in quite a while so I listened to it in my dad's car while driving to Sonic for a Route 44 root beer. It made me get all weepy again, but, this time, I noticed something I'd never noticed before! The traveling soldier doesn't die! I don't know why I always assumed he died. I guess because the piccolo player in the marching band was crying under the bleachers. She's just crying because she missed him, though! The line asks for the people at the football game to bow their heads for a list of local Vietnam vets. Believe it or not, this was quite a relief to me. Discovering this improved my shitty Saturday and turned it into something sort of decent.

Anyway, I pulled out the CD case today and read the lyrics. Apparently the people at the football game were asked to bow their head for a list of local Vietnam dead. Fuck.

In other news, my head is killing me.

I finally saw that documentary The Bridge. That's not the type of movie someone like me should be watching. It was about as rough as it gets.

I have two new pairs of jeans. They actually fit. I don't know that I've owned a pair of jeans that fit in ten years, except for the pair I got three months ago that no longer fit. So, that's that. Fittin' jeans!

I'm trying to learn how to play bluegrass guitar proficiently. I've got "Wildwood Flower" down pretty well. It's hard to find the right songs and/or tabs. I'm not good enough to play most of the bluegrass I like listening too. Or, rather, I'm not patient enough to sit down and learn it by ear and I can't find any tabs for it. Yeah.

My plant is still alive. He's looking pretty weird on one side, though. Hmm... Still green, so whatever.

Hey, how about that NBA? The mafia deciding outcomes of games is the most interesting thing to happen to the league in 12 years or so.

I'm sick. Gotta go to bed.

An Amendment to My Diet

I've decided that, with my before bedtime cup of Earl Grey, I am allowed one to four Lorna Doone cookies.I think four are only 140 calories. I've got room for that! I think.

Also, I always thought he was definitely a top five rapper of all-time, but the more I listen to him the more I think that Nas might be the best ever.

"Yo, I wonder if Langston Hughes and Alex Haley got blazed before they told stories?" I do, too, Nas, I do, too. Regardless, I'm glad you do because your flow be dope.

Speaking of rap and Nas, wanna know why 50 Cent thinks Nas is "not hot right now"? It's because Nas reads too many books!

The Magic Laugh Factory That Never Stops

Hopefully you've already been watching Clark and Michael. If you haven't been, catch the motherhump up. Episode eight is on FIRE with the hilarity, although they've all been great.

"Mike, I'm gonna stop you, because you have a new lady. And her name is Hollywood. And her legs are spread so wide that there's room enough for both of us."

- Clark

So amazing.

Go Suck Yerself, Annie Leibovitz

Annie told the Queen to take off her crown for a picture and the Queen told her to get fucked. I LOVE IT.

I hope the BBC releases the video. None of the reports I've seen have shown it.

UPDATE: Turns out the stupid BBC just edited it to make the Queen look like Queen Bitch. Shame on you, BBC.

The New Pope Sure Has Some Big-Ass Balls

If you're not Catholic, you're going to hell. At least according to Der Fuehrer, Joey Ratzinger.

So, that's good to know.

March of the Gays

Someone posted an article from The Economist ("Thur's yer sign!") about the supposed acceptance of homosexuality in the midwest on the local newspaper's messageboard. Someone sarcastically said something about a gay pride parade here and I said, if there were one while I live here, I would be happy to be in it. Here are some of the responses I've gotten so far:

From Stewie - Why? .......

From Hillbilly - Isn't sodomy against the law? Has anybody heard the story of "Sodom and Gomora"? If they march, I hope they don't stop, just keep going...... to California.

From Stewie (after my response) - No, not at all. Whatever gets your freak on, alt. boy. So, will you be the one dressed as Cher, or will you be wearing the leather S&M clothing with matching dog collar and chain?

Forget dignity....

Yay Pride!!!

From Rusty Shackleford - You cry foul, claiming you want gay people to have equal rights. Rallies, parades, and marches are organized to support equal rights.

Guess what? We already have equal rights. Homosexuals have the same rights that I have - it’s guaranteed in the U.S. Constitution. What most ‘gay rights advocates’ really want isn’t equality, it’s special privileges. Better-than-equal treatment.

From Curiousfellow - What??? The parade has been cancelled? Rats!

To think, I just finished cutting the rear end out of my favorite pair of leather chaps.

From Just-the-Fact, replying to Rusty asking me if I would walk beside him in a straight pride parade -
He may skip beside ya, but wouldn't look for much more.

I have a feeling this iceberg has only revealed its tip.

Just As I Am

I've been having a pretty rough go of it. The past seven days have really accentuated my flaws as a human being. My heart is filled with a deep, aching shame. I'm too sad to continue acknowledging how sad I am. I'm completely detached and I haven't figured out what I'm going to do about it. Here are some observations and realizations I've made in the past seven days:

- Just because you're in your late 80s and your husband recently died, it doesn't mean you want to die, too. I suppose I just assumed that as a way to make myself feel better. It's not always the case, though. Hearing that my Grandma promised my Mom she would fight as hard as she could to get better for her and my Aunt makes me feel more dead inside than she is. And she's literally dead.

- I have some serious spiritual issues. I desperately want god in my life but I just do not believe he exists. It's terrible. I needed god this week and there was nothing. All I've been doing is listening to all of my favorite gospel hymns and perusing Bible verses and staring at the walls for a week and I want what the songs promise so badly, but I'm just not catching the fever. Faith is one of the most admirable qualities a person could ever have. I covet it like nothing else in this world.

- My issues with death are a problem. If I had faith they probably wouldn't be, but I don't have any. When my Grandma Bea died four years ago I had the chance to go to Kansas and say goodbye to her. I was already drunk at that point. I got drunk on purpose, so I wouldn't have to go. I'll regret that for the rest of my life. I at least talked about it that time, though. Paul and Brett really came through for me then. When my Grandpa died in March I didn't tell anyone. I stayed in my room for three or four days, crying and drinking. I didn't go to the funeral due to a series of circumstances that all but prevented every last opportunity. I gave up. I could have let my brother-in-law drive four hours out of his way to come get me, but I really didn't want to go because I didn't want to deal with reality. I'll regret that for the rest of my life. I stayed in my room and cried and drank and, by the time I was ready to come out, I had concluded that I was moving out of Columbia as soon as possible. I reacted, drastically. That was something. It was probably a good decision, but that's irrelevant. I did something to react to my Grandpa's death, whether it made sense or not. It was something. Not only could I not bring myself to say goodbye to my Grandma last weekend, (instead I ran out of the nursing home like a child just like I did at my Grandma Bea's funeral), I have no option of denying or drastically reacting. I was there. I could have been with her, but I wasn't. I was too ashamed to face her. I never did a single thing for her and all the while she was never anything short of unwaveringly proud of me. My sister went looking for me after I snuck out and when she found me she said something like, "Dave, I know you don't want to remember Grandma like this but don't you think you need to do the right thing? Grandma might not even know you're there, but it would mean a lot to Mom." My only response was, "I think 'the right thing to do' is pretty subjective." Then, two minutes later, she gave me and my parents the gifts she brought us back from Europe and we talked about them as if they actually fucking mattered. A Hard Rock Cafe Madrid shirt is not something I want to have to accept graciously when my Grandma is dying fifty feet away. I did, though. That's what people do. They deal with death. They accept it and react to it like mature adults. I am, unfortunately, not people. And I do not type that with a hint of superiority, believe me.

- Making yourself even remotely vulnerable on the Internet is always a mistake. I realize the irony since I'm posting this on the Internet, but I've mostly given up, so worrying about what I post on the Internet after the fact seems silly. Anyway, I get called out by a total stranger on Myspace because of a bulletin I wrote that had nothing to do with him, I respond at 3:00 in the morning, sleep deprived and upset, telling him my Grandma died today, I'm loaning my phone to a family member, so go play songs with your band I know nothing about, leave me the fuck alone, etc... and the next morning an entire messageboard is discussing how fucked up I am while randomly mocking my dead Grandma. I know nothing about this guy but he was apparently on a mission to fuck with me. A complete stranger. I'm not sure what it is about me that makes strangers hate me, but it's been pretty common for as long as I can remember. I tend to think that people who get to know me a little usually like me. Maybe I'm being presumptuous, but that's the way I see things. Strangers certainly have a way of hating my fucking guts, though. People wonder why I'm not very social, why I try to avoid meeting new people. If you want to know why I also try to avoid going out in public, it's because things like this happen... (go to next dash)

- I went to Springfield today. It was kind of like being the offspring of a piece of unpainted furniture and a pizza buffet, trying to maneuver blindly through an orgy of strip malls, crawling inch by inch across the blacktop of an endless used car lot while getting just the worst reception on my Bluetooth ear piece. So, I was having a good time, right? I had just walked into Border's to look for a specific book about Abraham Lincoln when I heard my name being called by the only person to ever delete me as their Myspace friend. He is supposed to not want to talk to me because I possibly had something to do with he and his longtime girlfriend breaking up. I don't know if I really had anything to do with it or not. I've always fancied myself the patsy in all that, but I didn't really give that much of a shit then and I certainly don't now. Regardless, he killed me with kindness today which was a nice play. I think he's just kind of a nice guy usually so that's how he is, though. I could have done without the awkwardness, but it was fairly painless. I'm sure he and his coworker found it pretty amusing and I eventually found my book, so everything turned out okay except for the fact that the book was six dollars more than I was willing to pay for it. This is just another perfect example of why I prefer not going out in public these days. It's fairly petty considering the other things I've mentioned, but... well, one of these days I'll be dead and I will have either died a petty person or a person who was not petty. I will not be alive to care either way.

- I've been ignoring people who have not been discussing how fucked up I am on Internet messageboards and people who haven't written me off (yet) with extreme consistency. I don't know why. I just don't feel like I have anything to say. My life revolves around push ups, Nelson Algren, and Earl Grey tea. Sometimes I mow the lawn. It's all I've got. There's nothing else to share. I don't know when I'm coming to Columbia, when I'm moving to Chicago, or when I'm going to finally get a job. Hopefully at some point this year for all three of them. I'm sure I'll start talking to people again fairly soon. I almost answered a phone call from someone on my way back from Springfield tonight, but I had been thinking about her at the very time she called so I got scared. It was pretty close, though. I bet I start answering in a few more days. Sorry if you're pissed at me. If I drop off the grid it's not your loss, it's mine. I'm not ignoring anyone just to be a dick. I can't help it. The only reason I'm writing any of this is in hopes of people not forgetting I exist.

- I have a fern now. Well, okay, it's not a fern, it's a Norfolk Pine, but it's kind of like a fern. It's prettier than a fern. I've named him Abraham Lincoln. I hope to take some pictures with him soon. He's going to make me feel better, assuming I don't unknowingly kill him. That will make me feel even worse.

Please Don't Call Or Text Me This Week

Please don't call or text me this week. If you have to call or text, save it for July 9th or later. Thanks, nowiwannabeyourblog reading persons.