You Practically Rock


Random Thoughts for Jan. 14th, 2008

What’s up virgins. Sorry but I’ve been beyond busy these last few days, mostly doing things that only I could get away with doing. (Punching out dogs, ghost face killing, watching musicals and writing Knight Rider/M.A.S.K slash fic.)

– I’ve been bored. I’m trying to stay on the clean and sober path for 2k9. I’m trying to find out who I really am, trying to transform myself to be a more ‘authentic’ version of me. Mostly I want to distil myself to my true essence (which is what I used to think came out of my penis when I was young and would have dreams about Zeppelins and Anna Nicole Smith*.)

I often wonder what I really am; could anyone really be simply summed up in a sentence?

– You know how the elderly tend to dress the same as they did when they were in their prime? Or how some women seem to stick with a specific hair and make up style much longer than they should? Do you think this generation will do the same? Will I still rock skinny jeans and American appy thin tees well into my 50s? Will those x-treme dudes who wear volcom and billabong still be keeping it real and Just Keep Livin’ their life? Will they be the black jeans and tucked in t-shirts of the nows? Will I still be listening to Animal Collective in my 80s or will I be listening to some more suitable to my age.

– I no longer have a yeast infection. I miss it. It was something that I came upon all on my own. Like the first TV on the Radio album.

– Is there anything better than porn found on the television when you’re not expecting it? No, no there isn’t. Not even a cure for cancer. Ask most people with cancer and I’m sure they’d be pro found porn.

*Baby girl, I think about you everyday.

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Wherein I discuss Comic Books, Coke and Energy.. kind of.
We dress like this for work every other day to keep things FRESH.

We dress like this for work every other day to keep things FRESH.

I work at a comic book store that’s super amazing because they let me sleep in the backroom when I’m too messed off of my anti-depressants to venture outside for fear of pooping my pants, but also because I get to read comics all day long and learn about what would happen to me if my really rich parents were to have been killed by a mugger after watching Antonio Banderes’ Mask of Zorro, or if I was a super powered immigrant from a war torn planet (Poland maybe?) raised by kindly white bread american folks, who would urge me to hide my ethnic powers except when I wear a very flamboyant costume.

Any way, there’s a lot to like about comics, mostly it’s the way that they make me feel like there are heroes in this world who wear capes (unlike my cousin Reggie who wears a cape to the beach because he’s ashamed of his Bacne) and that sometimes having a black and white view of the world is a good thing.

I think a lot about Batman, probably more than I or any person should. I know everything about him – everything, Hell Grant Morrison’s Batman run has been completely readeable and understandeable to me. But the truth is he is not my favourite super hero. Nope, not even close.

No my favourite Superhero is Mister Miracle: Super Escape Artist.1616068850_b9eb108223_o

That’s right. Perhaps the craziest thing that Jack Kirby ever created. (which when taking into account that this guy created most of the Marvel Universe, something called Devil Dinosaur, Kamandi the Last boy and my personally favourite: OMAC.)

Okay, so here’s the deal with Scott Free (aka Mister Miracle) – He’s the son of a New God, who traded him to another New G

.....for real ...this is an actual panel.

.....for real ...this is an actual panel.

od (an evil one named Darkseid) so that there planets could have a shakey if not totally reasonable peace agreement. Scott was raised in a Dicken’s like Orphanage called the Armaghetto and was brutally beaten up every day. He then escaped to earth (thereby triggering an end to the cease fire) and became a Super Escape Artist using the skills and equipment he picked up on his freaky torture planet. Oh, and his father-figure is a Dwarf named Oberon and he’s married to a Butchy Amazonian chick named Big Barda who wields something crazy phallic known to her as the ‘Mega-rod’ …and she’s the leader of an elite group of lesbian commando’s known as “The Female Furies.”

The best part is? I’m totally not even close to being jokey or sarcastic.

God I love comics.

So yeah, I’m totally into Mr. Miracle ’cause he’s insanely crazy and each issue basically follows the same story progression; we start with him about to practice a crazy escape that means sure death, something happens, everyone stands around for a few panels being angry that he died then he reveals that he didn’t – he escaped using crazy machinery that Kirby draws the shit out of, then he’s kidnapped by some reject from his old planet who has a crazy named like Vermin Vundabar, Doktor Bedlam, Kanto, Madame Evil Eyez, Supreme Magnificence, etc.. and instead of shooting him in the face and ending it, they put him in an escape proof trap.. which he escapes and yeah, that’s the ending.

mistermiracle03

It’s awesome.

mISS u!!!?!?!!!?!!?!?!

mISS u!!!?!?!!!?!!?!?!

Every panel is draw with a crazy amount of energy that if Hipsters could bottle it, it would could replace the vancancy left by the banning of Sparks and Coke (Coke Farts are making the Girl Talk concerts a lot less fun for me to go too.. for real.)



Hurray For Christmas!
December 25, 2008, 12:45 am
Filed under: Ballsack, Love Making | Tags: ,

Christmas is pretty much the most special time of year. It’s the one time that people touch me without slapping cuffs on me or pushing me up against a cold wall in a dark alley and making me feel like the first couple minutes of a Law & Order SVU episode.

I’m really glad that I get to spend Christmas with my family this year as before they wouldn’t let me in because they ‘weren’t ready to forgive me.’ But this year since I passed my blood and urine tests and I’m specially monitored by a nice court-ordered Jewish fellow who doesn’t mind spending the day amongst – what he called –  ‘goys’ – I’m treated to awesome comments like: “Yes, it is quite cold” and “That’s great that you got rid of that horrible cyst removed from your eyelid.”

Merry Christmas friends of friends.



An Early Christmas Present From Me to You
December 22, 2008, 11:47 pm
Filed under: Ballsack | Tags: , ,

We’re in pretty heavy white-out country here, so curl up with the one you love, the one who’ll hold you close without judging you – and watch the ultra-violence that is Riki-Oh: The Story of Ricky.

Sometimes Revenge is the only way to keep warm.

Merry Christmas

Updated!!! with clip so you can realize just how awesome this movie is!



Emotional Waffles
December 21, 2008, 8:35 am
Filed under: Ballsack, Love Making | Tags: ,

I’m a really sensitive guy. People can usually find me crying tears for the plight of humanity. I really ‘get’ what people are going through, because I totally emphasize with them – you know?

I often find myself being the center to ‘Magnolia’ type situations that happen all around me. Sometimes in the middle of the six degrees of misery porn that happens all around me, I try to be that eye in the hurricane of humorlessness.
This is why I invented Emotional Waffles.

Because I’m a really good person that birds braid my long thick hair in the morning while anthropomorphic chipmunks help me squeeze into my skinny jeans – I try to share a little bit of joy with those less fortunate. This means, that I take the bad stuff and turn it into something better.

Emotional Waffles are filled with not just the main ingredients you need to make waffles, but also tears and bitterness. (we also add vanilla, ’cause no one likes bitter tasting waffles.) we then eat the waffles and feel better about ourselves. (except of course whoever got dumped; ’cause they’re still alone.)

Emotional Waffles are quite good. here is the recipe.

1 3/4 cup flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 cups of virgin’s tears
1/2 teaspoon salt
a pinch of the hair of the individual who dumped you
1 tablespoon sugar
3 eggs
1 3/4 cup of ballsack sweat.
7 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 1/2 cupsof Ugandan breast milk

mix the dry ingredients seperate then combine. let batter sit while you smoke cigarettes, listen to BOYZ II MEN and drink bourbon straight and play Russian Roulette and musical chairs to Monica’s hit jam: “Just one of those days”

You’re welcome world..

xoxo

Your boy,

Pete



“At Night When All The Worlds Asleep” – The Super Tramps (so apropos)

Hey you guys,

I can’t sleep ’cause my mind is going a million miles an hour – maybe it’s because I was huffing glue and keyboard cleaner or maybe it’s ’cause I’m nervous about my big DJ gig this weekend.
Yeah, I decided that my band was a stupid idea ’cause no one will ever listen to an out of tune ukulele and a drum machine so I decided to be a DJ. I’ve asked a local Barrie bar if I could ‘spin some toons’ and they were all like: “Yeah, that’s fresh.”

I don’t have turn tables, but I do have an iMac and a downloaded copy of Girl Talk’s CD. I’m gonna spend a few hours on HYPE Machine downloading all the search results for ‘REMIX’ – It’s gonna be awesome y’all.

I’m opening for a bunch of dudes who used to go to my school, they’re all part time bouncers and full time ‘roid users. They’re pretty aggro but they play Jack Johnson music because they want people to know that even though they roid-out sometimes they’re totally chill and sit around strumming their acoustic guitars with their socks off and sing goofy songs about ‘lovin’ ladies who make them crazy‘ (actual lyrics – seriously you guys, these guys are soo talented, sometimes when they harmonize they hit these notes that make angels weep tears made from Unicorn sperm which as we know from Harry Potter is super rare.)

I think about Old Dirty Bastard everyday. Miss you. This makes me super depressed, sometimes I don’t know if life is worth living since Big Baby Jesus passed on to Jahova sometimes I feel like he was my poet laureate y’know? “I came out my mama’s pussy; I’m on welfare; 26 years old, still on welfare” Do they give out Posthumous nobel prizes?
He’s probably in Heaven giving Anna Nicole Smith the clap.. single tear old friend, possible father…

I’m starting to get the spins.

Will anyone come pick me up so I can go get a burrito? I’m seriously craving one bad.