The TV Series Way To Say All Our Scripts Scuked This Week

A CLIP SHOW!!!!

Personal favorites from the ghost of my vox blog past:

the burlap veil of scotch and Guinness suffocating me

random profundities (holy shit, that IS a word)

I miss brown velvet and dirty water.

When I was your age, people threw things at each other, we ate dirt and glue and crayons, we'd roll down hills in tires, we'd make forts out of old rusty abandoned washing machines, we'd throw rocks at beehives, we could run from dogs, we could climb and jump out of trees, we had food fights, we thought bad television was bad television, etc.

The night of the big pageant she whispered "I liked you better without glasses."

She came into school a week later and brought her Cabbage Patch doll to school and told me it was our baby. I dumped her right then (I probably would have been okay with it if our baby was He-Man or Zartan)

"I wouldn't have done it if I knew it was you."

Karma thou art a vicious bastard.

At some point in all that, I had a fling with a girl I really liked, but I couldn't commit to her. I was too young. My best friend married her. That's all I can say about that.

I grabbed her by her neck and slammed her against the wall with her feet dangling and said "No one kills me ... but me." I walked out.

"Keep my car and all my shit. I have to save a girl from herself."

I looked at her and I thought "I could love this girl ... I can save her ...she can save me." She's only 21. She's amazing ... but I'm far too gone for love anymore

I committed fashion atrocities today. I'm wearing brown and black. The receptionist pointed this out to me, saying that I shouldn't meet with any of our clients today.

And here's to donuts and bitches ... and their uncanny ability to destroy our stupid fucking justice system and our lives.

I'm a human being after all, one of the most curious animals on the planet. If I want to know more details about the situation you're explaining to me that I don't want to hear about anyway ... I'll fucking ask with gusto. Maybe you could spend an extra 30 seconds planning your plan of verbal attack, too, because I don't like it when you get lost in your own conversation. But of course, if you weren't spewing so much useless information you wouldn't get lost in it. If I'm doing something while you're talking to me and you can wait until I'm done ... please wait, because I can definitely wait to hear what you have to say a few more seconds ... and JESUS CHRIST stop following me while you deliver your monologue. If I walk away, it means one of two things: I'm running away from you, or you should pause and continue the conversation when I return.

Shut up. Shut your mouth. Eat your food. Don't point at people with food on your fork. Don't reach across people's plates for the salt. Don't salt and pepper your food before you taste it ... chefs hate that, I hate that. What that tells me about you is that you have no taste at all, and that it probably has spilled over into ever facet of your life ... you love trendy-poppy remakes of songs but don't realize they're covers, you think the Italian Job with Mark Wahlberg was the greatest movie ever and wonder why they didn't come up with such an original idea sooner. Eat your food so I can leave and go home and slice open my skull so I can wash my brain of all the filth you've just tainted it with.

There are other people in the world besides you. You should know this because you constantly run your mouth at them about stuff they don't care about, won't shake their hands, disgust them by talking with your mouth full, and cause them to get into serious wrecks because you can't drive.

I wish I was a real drunk. I'd probably have more fun.

N: Do you feel that you are setting a negative example for the youth culture?

R: Youth culture killed my dog! Youth Culture killed my dog!

Have sex, get pregnant, have your baby, go downtown to a SPCBC-run depository, fill out the deposit slip, slip the baby and form into the convenient drop bag, drop baby in the hatch. The burden is no longer any of your concern.

TAKE THAT ZOMBIES!!!

Somewhere near the center of our universe, the spectre of mankind holds hands, kisses, pampers, adores, pets, dotes over, needs, wants, and loves the lady who he is about to rape. "I think I'll name her ... Earth" he says. 

You'll feel it one day, that urge to emerge. The pain of want calling you to the baths of the High People, where your past will be washed away with your soul. You'll become plastic and turn your head just so and you'll smile and nod and your number will make you happy.

We are the apathetic.

We are the impatient.

We are the content.

We are the lazy.

We are the confused.

We are the wicked.

We are the thiefs and the liars.

We are the ugly and the vain.

We are the narcissists and the masochists.

We are the sadists and the saints.

We are the revolution.

There are no dragons that we ourselves do not create.

There is no greater battle, no greater war, no greater strife between good and evil. There is nothing more powerful than the conflict between who we have the potential to be and who we are today. All other conflict pales in comparison, for we have no right to be involved in any other conflict unless we are at peace with ourselves and our purpose.

Life sucks, then you nail your bracket, then you die. Somewhere in between you set up franchises ... or maybe just split the monopoly you have on this branch of your family tree ... or maybe you kill this branch. Maybe you have sex and then you die. Maybe you die while having sex. Maybe you die watching the Superbowl, while having sex, while teaching your children how not to question authority, while eating a cheeseburger, while checking your stocks, while filling in your brackets, while seeing your name in bold on the church newsletters front page, while reading the obituaries, while listening to rap. Maybe you believe in 72 virgins. Maybe you believe in the power of owning a motorcycle. Maybe you're already dead, and have been since the first time you thought, "Someone else is going to make a difference if its needed. I'll just sit here because I'm one in a trillion. I'll just play poker and poke her and that po' cur down at the homeless shelter can have my money, as long as it goes through my church so people can see me place a modest portion of my winnings on the plate."

It's the old, the rank, the musty, allowed to survive in the corners of the room. You can let the cobwebs hang there, thinking no one will notice. It's more likely that people WILL notice and won't care. But in the inventory of the room, those cobwebs exist and could be eradicated in one fell swoop with a dust mop, a broom, your hand, a baby tied to a pole.

Your individuality is a calculated risk to corporations; your laziness, apathy, and ignorance are guaranteed profit.

The leader of the creatures asks the leader of the humans, through thought, "Do you believe in Muhukknawampuu?" The human says "No, I believe in God!" and stamps his foot.

This day is choking on the bitter spit of self-loathing. On its surface it is cold, coarse, blustering, and vengeful. It mocks us with blue skies and soft clouds, but there is a hidden agenda deep beneath the underpasses, in the sewers, in the corners of attics, behind your grandmother's rocking chair.

Every day has a soul, and my day is bitter, beaten, and bereft of life. It's soul is caught, entangled in the swallowed hoard, still clinging helpless to the back of the throat.

So low for mighty.

I am completely fooling myself with this girl. I have in my head this hopelessly romantic idea that I’m her protector and mentor, like a knight in service. I’ve got this idea that I’m going to protect her from the harsh realities of life and in doing so she’ll slowly fall in love with me and things will be happy.

Two of my final theses will be on the "Justification of Domestic Livestock Transportation and Maintenance on Lunar/Martian Colonies" and "The Effect of Prolonged Generational Exposure to Terraformed/Synthetic Habitats on Earth-born and later Extraterrestrially Born Species Transported to Lunar/Martian Colonies".

I still enjoy this game, the whole making her wonder if I'm over her game. But ... last night I realized something. I will never be over this woman. One of the cops who accosted us patrols her neighborhood and knew what kind of car her roommate drives ... and I said, to be funny and lighten the mood "What other cars have you seen parked over at her house lately?" I realized I still love this girl, deeply, painfully, and that everyone else I talk to is just pointless moves on a chessboard that's headed toward checkmate.

I call this mindless acceptance of something someone else has said “Postcard Wisdom”.

Postcard Wisdom is why marketing works. It is the reason why bastard sons of bitches are elected to public office. It is the reason racism and religion prevent the progression of the species. It is the reason people say “Beckoned Call” instead of “Beck and Call”.

My favorite zombie is Jesus.

I get nervous. I cough uncontrollably. I buy clothes that don't fit me. I start smoking. I start drinking. I scratch myself to wounds and then I pick the scabs. I get restless. I can't sleep. I draw silly cartoons. I write their names next to mine and then spend hours scribbling the names out. I dream about them. I break out in hives. I stumble over air. I can't breathe.  My mouth gets dry. I have acne breakouts. My skin starts to crawl. I have hot flashes. I turn into a fatalist. My hands sweat. I can't think. I can't keep food down. I start to smell vinegar. My fingernails become very sensitive. I develop an irrational fear of telephones, old people, and cubes. I play with my food. I develop cravings for bermuda grass and butterscotch.

Yesterday was decidedly difficult for me as I spent most of the day in a haze of impetuous, inexorable depression. There are no words, no watercolor paintings, no sketches, no musical creations I can give you that would allow you a sense of this deep void that suddenly opened up in my soul yesterday. It was as if I had been hiding it all these years and only now has it breached the maximum security prison I have kept it in.