Viva Las Vegas

Part 1

Fun trip, but long drive and no sleep, so this one is going to be short and sweet. More later.

So we got in around 10:30 Friday night, and I had been awake for the better part of two days straight, and just finished a 6 hour drive, so I was pretty freakin' beat. Meg had planned to meet with an internet friend of hers, so she took off for a bit while I hit the shower and ordered some room service.

After my wonderful shower I sat watching a little bit of the idiot box to unwind and I saw a show that ever so slightly renewed my faith in television (even if only a little).

The show is called The Best Week Ever and it's on VH1. In case you haven't seen it, it's basically all the major news and media events from the week that just ended analyzed with a running commentary by some damn funny people.

I'm sure we're all very aware of all the controversy over Mel Gibson's Guilt Flick, also known as The Passion Of The Christ. I'm sure I don't have to tell you this topic made the show that night. So, for tonight, I leave you with this tidbit:

"I think Mel has finally lost it. And by it, I mean the memo that Jews run Hollywood."

Rachel Harris
The Best Week Ever

Well, boys and girls, Meg and I are leaving for Vegas for the weekend.

SWEET!

I'm bringing the laptop in hopes that the hotel has an internet connection in the rooms, but we shall see.

Have a great weekend, and just in case this post is all I'm leaving for you to look at for the next three days, I'll make it worth your while.

There, that should hold you over. And, please ladies, remember that this is only a picture, so try to refrain from throwing your panties at your computer screens.

Moment of Shame part 2: Enter The Coward

Have you ever had to say something really hard to say to someone you knew really didn't want to hear it? I have. Today.

I'm actually more than a little embarassed about how I handled it.

I emailed this person.

I couldn't bring myself to say these things to their face. I HATE HURTING PEOPLE'S FEELINGS!

I'm a coward.

It's the same reason I've rarely ever dumped a girl. I couldn't do it, so instead I made them do it. I would just be a complete ass until they got fed up and dumped me. This way they get the satisfaction and righteousness of having done something good and healthy for themselves, and I get to feel bad for myself because I got dumped. Everybody wins. Especially the coward.

This time isn't a dump. Only time will tell what happens.

Sometimes a miss high school. A LOT. Things were so much simpler then. I didn't have to work, I had no bills. I just had my friends and school, and I truly loved both. My biggest worries were zits and where my next ride to the mall was coming from.

I recently discovered a series of three pictures I took the night me and my friends graduated.

This is actually three pictures I slapped together with Photoshop. Real easy. This was six years ago, so I have no idea what was said, but somebody cracked us all up, so I went around the table snapping my camera. By the time I got to John (long hair), he was sick of the blinding flash and was in mid-threat on me when i snapped it. Good times.

Surgeon General's Warning: This post may be hazardous to small children, the elderly, those with heart conditions, and republicans.

Hello, everyone. This is Admiral Smiley here. I come to you today with a heavy heart. It seems that our pervert is toying with us now. Last night a Google was detected baring the sign "Alec Baldwin Gaining Weight." This, again, comes from the January 30th post. As much as I don't understand why some miscreant would want to search for these phrases, I have decided to surrender. That's right, maggots, we are opening our gates to any and all who wish to enter. No more tight security. No more new budget with a massive built in deficit to cover a huge military.

To tell you the truth... ... YOU CAN"T HANDLE THE TRUTH! He he. Sorry. That's my favorite movie, and I've always wanted to say that.
Ahem. Anyway. To tell you the truth, it's a load off my mind. I can go on vacation now for the first time since... well, ever.

And finally, to make things easier for our sick new friends to find us, here is a list of a few commonly searched pervert terms. Enjoy.

tits, cock, gang bang, blowjob, reach around, boobs, anal, golden shower, dirty sanchez, hot girl-on-girl action, fuck, shit, piss, ass, Paris Hilton, blonde, hard, barely legal, teens, tight, sex, doggie, wet, hot, naked, young, breasts, suck, donkey punch, whore, lick, porn, pornstar, amateur, juicy, stroke, striptease, bondage, babe, facial, pearl necklace, fetish, fisting, upskirt, oral, panty, shemale, threesome, voyeur, slut, "fat sweaty druids", virgin, orgy, vampire-nuns, cum, tramp, hooker, hooters, three-way, theesome, dildo, pussy, vagina, jizz, snatch, Pamela Anderson, lesbian, hardcore, softcore, orgasm...

I think that's about all I got. Did I miss any that you can see, Mr. Pervert?

So give us your tired, your horny, your S & M freaks. We'll take all comers, and terrible pun most definitely intended.

Distressing News

Lord Knucklhead himself called an emergency press conference early this morning to anounce the following.

Lord K: Citizens of The Commonwealth of Poop, I come before you today with three pieces of important news. One strange and disturbing, and two glorious and exciting.

As standard practice dictates I shall bear the bad tidings first.
Ahem. On this day, in the something something year of Poop our security has been breached by...

a pervert.

I must say that I was as shocked as you are. Last night in the wee hours before midnight my chief security officer, Admiral Smiley, burst in to my bed chamber with shocking news. As I cannot bring myself to repeat this news, I shall hand this over to him. Admiral.


Admiral Smiley: Thank you, your highness. It is my duty to inform you that at approximately oh-seven-hundred hours (through the use of a highly advanced and sinister Trojan Google) a very sick individual managed to gain access to this great and sacred land of ours. Our radar detected The Google with the following search message written across its tell-tale banner.

Fat

Sweaty

Druids

That's right folks. I said "fat sweaty druids." I will draw your attention to the Poop Shute Press's January 30th, 2004 issue. You will note that all three words appear, in that order, yet seperated by many other words with various other meanings.

Now, you may be asking yourself, what does this mean to me? Well, I'll tell you what it means to you, you slimey maggots! It means we need to beef up our forces around here! It means round the clock surveilance, and a budget for the coming fiscal year that includes a built in $978,453,638,983.07 deficit to pay for a military upgrade. I mean with our growing economy we should have it paid off by 2089. And another thing-

Lord K: Um, Smiley-

Admiral Smiley: We're going to increase our watchfullness of lewd, crude, and cheeky phrases around here. I mean, yeah, okay, the words were separated, but did that stop this drooling druid-fetishist weirdo from finding us? NO, IT DIDN'T.

Lord K: Smiley, really now. You've over-stepped your-

Admiral Smiley: We must censor ourselves. CENSORSHIP, I SAY!!!

Lord K: What?!

Admiral Smiley: It's the only way to protect ourselves! AND WE MUST ATTACK THE ZOMBITORIUM!!!

Lord K: Smiley! Now that is simply uncalled fo-

Admiral Smiley: A PREEMPTIVE STRIKE BEFORE THEY EAT OUR BRAINS!!! I MEAN YOU KNOW THEY WANT IT--

It's hard to say exactly what happened here, but by the end Lord Knucklehead had mustered fully one half of his military strangth (his t-ball bat, seeing as Fred is still in recovery after last week's coup) and subdued the now frothing Admiral Smiley. Only time will tell whether or not Smiley still has a future with His Highness's cabinet... or if he has a first name for that matter. His Highness closed with this.

Lord K: My apologies for that. Please disregard most of it. The druid thing was true, but please forget the rest. It is best for all concerned.

Anyway, in the lighter news: we have two new friends to our great land to announce. Firstly, we have a new friend from Far Off Lands. She is known to me as Angel, but I shall grant her the honorary title of The Lady Angel, Duchess of Poop. The road to her lands can be seen directly to the left. And the other new friend is known only to us by reference, not by any direct contact.
You may remember Advice Girl mentioned on the blog of The Gurg Of... of... well, to tell you the truth I've never been clear on what The Gurg is The Gurg of but whatever it is, I'm sure it's pretty sweet. Anyway, she is currently accepting emails. Those of you inclined to do so can send her your questions and check her blog for replies. Her email is theonlyadvicegirl@yahoo.com and her blog is also to the left. Please email her, as I think it is the only thing that will make her sad existance bareable for her. She just needs some attention.

An Experiment

Good news everyone. The Land Of Poop has recently acquired a scanner for the use of its peoples. It's not nearly as good as The Lord Young's shiny new scanner... in fact she's actually pretty old and a little beat up, but REGARDLESS, she works.

Today is a test. I shall see if my picture-posting education (trickled down from the Lord DoBell through The Gurg) is up to snuff. Here we go.

These are the great Lords of the Realms. From left we see the benevolent Knucklehead himself, the Czar Crohn of the Barren Waste Lands of E-literate, Emperor Young of the Milky Way, and Baron Schuler of Team Extreme.

Ladies, I know what you are thinking. These are four wild and sexy guys who you just want to smother with kisses and shower with your panties. I am sad to say that all four are much too busy with the comings and goings of their respective kingdoms to really have time for that sort of thing. Unless of course you happen to enjoy long walks on the beach, Duran Duran, and porno movies. Oh yeah, and you have a perfect body too.

Changing Of The Guard

Ladies and gentlemen, last night in a bloody coup de tat, our own Lord J. Knucklehead took over the headquarters of the beloved Poop Shute Press. He took the offices by surprise last night with a hastily formed army of his teddy bear, Fred, and a t-ball bat. Fortunately for all considered, the only person who works in these offices is his own alter ego, Joey, so nobody was seriously hurt. I only use the word "bloody" because Lord Knucklehead tripped in the dark and stubbed his toe badly, and in his confusion swung the t-ball bat wildly, concussing Fred in the process. The toe should be fine, The Queen applied the time tested kiss-and-make-it-better treatment. Sadly, Fred remains in critical condition. We'll keep you updated on his progress.

With our new management comes some new ground rules. From this day forward you will here no more stories about him in the third person. From now on we shall talk about me in the first person. If this sudden change in voice in the middle of a sentence is confusing for anybody... well, too damn bad! This is my newspaper now, and there's nothing you can do about it.

So.... how about that weather, eh? Yup...


Um... do you like poop jokes? Right, you can't answer. At least not actively anyway.

..........

Oh, damn it. Tomorrow I shall reinstate Joey. I have no patience for this malarkey!

I apologize to anyone who happened by here in the last eight hours or so. There was a very stupid, very short post here that I made somewhere near three am.

You see, I am an insomniac, but lately I've managed to adhere to a rough sleep schedule that almost resembles a normal human's sleep patterns. Last night shot that all to hell. I was up with my boys until almost four, and I've only just woken up now, at quarter to noon. So when I went to do my pre-bedtime blogging my brain was mush since I had been up so long. I hope I can get to sleep at a reasonable time tonight because tomorrow we're driving to Sedona at 7 am, which was my idea.

Lord J Knucklehead: Excuse me. You now what your problem is?

Joey: What the hell?! What are you doing here? You're my alter ego, we can't be in the same place at the same time! Unless... ?

Lord J Knucklehead: Unless... Yes, come on, say it. Unless you're going insane. Yes, my boy, that's what happens when you botch your sleep patterns so badly; you become mentally unstable

Joey: Damn it. Well, as long as your here, how is the Land Of Poop?

Lord J Knucklehead: Ah well, our mighty kingdom is flourishing. My efforts for employment of the 50% have yet to... OH NO YOU DON'T! I'm here to tell you what your problem is, so no changing the subject.

Joey: It was worth a shot, but I should've known you're too smart for me, Your Highness

Lord J Knucklehead: Well, thank you. Finally credit where credit is due. You know just the other day The Queen tried to convince me that... Ha ha, Very clever, boy. Now, sit down and shut your mouth or I'll duct tape it shut.

Joey: Yes sir.

Lord J Knucklehead: Good, now, what was I saying?

Joey: Um... you were saying that The Queen was looking really hot lately.

Lord J Knucklehead: Ah, yes. Boy, you know that Lady of mine has got quite a nice behind. Oh my, that was a haiku!

Joey: Well, actually-

Lord J Knucklehead:I said it was a haiku!

Joey: Yes sir.

Lord J Knucklehead: Now run along like a good boy and get some excercise.

Joey: Yes sir.

IT'S ALIVE! IT'S ALIVE!

Anyone who has ever tried my salsa will know that every time I make it I tweak something. Each batch is a learning experience. Each batch is just a little better than the one that preceded it. Each batch is one step closer to the ultimate in wannabe-spanish perfection. Each one is like my own little edible child that I bring to life and nurture with my own hands... and eat on Tostitos Chips. Mmmm.

After my last batch I realized that I had yet to acheive one major goal: I had never made a salsa that was too hot for even me to eat. I had made some pretty hot ones, but I had also made batches that even Brian could eat, much to my chagrin. It's not that I don't want Brian eating my salsa or anything, but Brian is kinda of the lowest of lowered bars when it comes to spicy foods. For the rest of his life he will be ceaselessly teased for breaking a sweat while eating a Freschetta FOUR CHEESE pizza. He said the sauce was a little too zesty. His exact words, I think. So, if he could merrily wolf down my salsa, then I'm doing something wrong.

So, I recently came up with a radical new idea. Well, radical for my recipe, anyway. See, I've known for quite some time that most of the capsaicin is in the guts of the pepper, and in the seeds. I always use the guts, but remove the seeds. I have this paranoid fear that getting a whole habanero seed in your mouth would be beyond painful. SO, to solve the problem, I got myself a mortar and pestle and for tonight's batch I ground the seeds into a course paste and stirred that into the rest of the salsa ingredients.

Now, my friends, don't misunderstand. This salsa is NOT too hot for me. It is most definitely VERY hot, but I enjoy it a great deal. I take great joy in knowing that I am on the right track, though. Brian, if you're reading, this shit would make you cry like a wee girl.

Sweet.

Corrections and Retractions

After Monday's State of the Poop address, our Lord J Knucklehead found himself inundated with angry emails and comments, and called a press conference today to apologize.

"Good Morning, ladies and gentlemen. It has come to my attention that in Monday's speech I made a terrible oversight. An oversight which brings us all here on this lovely morning for this conference. I am referring, of course, to The Queen.

In Monday's speech I laid out a few of the problems here in this great land of ours, mentioning that unemployment is at 100%, citing myself as the only actual citizen. In this statement I failed to realize that The Queen, is in fact a citizen (whether she likes it or not) and has been gainfully employed for quite some time now. This news comes as a delightful surprise, I'm sure, considering that it brings our unemployment rate down to a tidy 50%

I apologize to My Lady, and all else who were troubled by my remarks. It would appear that alcohalism is affecting the minds of our citizenry. I shall consider prohibition to curb this problem-"

At this point the press conference broke down into a state of complete chaos. Nobody seemd to like the idea of prohibition in The Land Of Poop, His Lordship included.

His Lordship went on to say that today he has made it his mission to find jobs for that remaining 50% And he bid a quick and curt farewell, leaving to do just that.

Grave news

The follwing is a transcript of tonight's State of The Poop address, given by the one and only, Lord J. Knucklehead himself.


A good evening to you, O citizenry of the great commonwealth of Poop. It has been an interesting few months thus far in 2004. As of now our fun quotient is up a full 2% from last year, bringing us to a new high of 2.5%! WAy to go. But sadly the already weakened state of our economy has taken an even greater turn for the worse. Our unemployment rate is up to a staggering 100% This figure is what it is due to the unprecedented complete lack of emigration, or reproduction...ever... and the only actual citizenry being myself.

But, on to much more disturbing news. Today it was brought to my attention just how ghetto the land of Poop has become as of late. We were once a sprawling Utopia, a thriving metropolis and now... now, it has come to this. It is a sad day in the Land of Poop when one among us (myself) is confronted with actual poop whilst in the middle of his workout. I'm referring of course to today's front page news that an actual piece of feces was discovered in the community fitness center. For those of you unaware of this situation, I swear to you, I am NOT MAKING THIS UP.

The witness (me) had this to say: "So I just finished up my third set on my biceps and I looked over in the corner and saw what I was sure was a brown leather wallet somebody had left behind by accident. I went over to get it, figuring I'd drop it by the apartment complex office on my way out. On closer inspection I was horrified to find it was actually a log of poop."

Yes, folks. Sad, but true, I'm afraid. Up until this moment poop was something confined to humorous cartoons about robots and the pivacy of one's own bathroom... and, well I guess the dogwalk park too, but I never go there. Today is a dark day in the history of our great land. So toay, I come to you with a promise.

Today, I vow to do everything in my power to recify our substandard living conditions. I vow to do so by putting our economy backs on its feet, by employing EVERY citizen of The Land of Poop (me). Yes, my trusting peoples, I promise that one day every one of us will have a house of his own, with a home theatre system, and a weight room out back. Every man shall have a fridge full of whatever imported beer he desires. And a nanny named Consuela to raise their kids for them. This and what needful else shall call upon me!

As always, I your humble servant thank you and bid you a fond good night.

I've noticed over the past few days on my spiffy new site meter (thanks again David) that I have some readers from Far-Off Lands. Maybe even a few from Foreign Leadership Camp. Sadly, I have yet to see anyone from Fish Lake.

Anyway, I'm wondering who your far-offers are. I have some from other regions in the USA, I have a small percentage from the UK, I'm guessing that's Kiki, but then I have a small number from Eastern Europe, and once in awhile Central Asia.

For the record, I think that is totally f**king cool! But, please, let me know who you are. Drop me a comment, or an email or something. Especially if that is you Kiki. Let me know how you're doing and whatnot.

It's very late, and I'm having trouble keeping my eyes open. More later today. hopefully I can gain some of that Fish Lake readership soon. They are a fickle bunch afterall.

Flashback

Brace yourself for a long one.

I just watched a movie tonight with Meg. It's called Better Luck Tomorrow. Not too great in case you were wondering. It takes place during the main character's high school years, and the scene when he gets to sit next to the girl of his dreams made me have a sudden memory attack of my first experience with love... in 3rd grade. :)

Her name was Melissa Novak. It's funny how not only the full name, but every other detail of your first love sticks in your brain. We had been in the same class every year since kindergarten, and she barely knew my name. But I was crazy about her.

So, the years rolled by and Melissa remained blissfully ignorant of my affections. At times I'd try to talk to her, but she seemed to have this curious effect on me. Whenever she looked into my eyes I began to speak something that sounded vaguely like the garbled murmerings of your wingmen in StarFox on the original SuperNES. "Beh bah beh boh be." I'm sure it wasn't quite so dramatically stupid, but the imagination of my child brain will make the memory worse than it is. Anyway, fast forward to the summer before 3rd grade, when to my dismay my parents announced we're moving to Arizona. Having lived here since then, I still have to wonder what the hell they were thinking. As I wept over this cataclysmic change to my entire world they told me we'd be leaving about a month into the school year.

The school year began like any other. It's funny; from what I recall, I was a drama queen even then. I imagined myself a death-row inmate each time I walked the halls of the school. Each classroom door I passed was no longer a class but a cell, holding large, frightening men named Bubba and Skid who were there for killing men, or worse. As I strolled the halls I could here the principal bellowing out from behind me "MOVED MAN WALKING!"

As was usual in elementary school we were seated in a seating chart. Most of my previous teacher's charts were seemingly random, and arbitrary. But not this teacher. This teacher was either lazier, or more conventional, whatever. She sat us alphabetically. We stood around the edge of the room as she marched up the aisles pointing at desks and calling out names.

"Ryan Laramie.... Susan Martin.... Nate McCleary...."

My name was coming up, and I noticed something that made my heart jump a little...

"Joseph Moore..."

I have known all these kids for a couple years now, and THERE ARE NO MORE M-NAMES... and only one N-name...

"Melissa Novak." Holy sweet mother of god in heaven, YES! I was going to be sitting next to the prettiest girl in school...

Damn.

I would be sitting next to her for a month, and then gone. Oh well, live for the now! So, we sit down. This school had those desks with the hinged top that you can put all your supplies in. Melissa couldn't get hers open, and when I effortlessly popped it open for her, she put her hand briefly on mine and smiled. "Thank you." Let's just assume that I managed a "your welcome" and move on, shall we?

So, the month rolls by uneventfully. My last day of school at Maerker Elementary I went out to the playground on a mission. You see, my parents were coming to pick me up just after lunch to make the drive out to AZ. So, for me, this recess was kind like my last meal. "MOVED MAN WALKING!"

I run out to the sand and start playing with the enthusiasm of boy who has never seen a sandbox before. Some jerk kid (bully) tried to pick a fight, and seeing as it was my last day I let him. He threw a shove, which was pretty typical by playground fighting standards. I threw a punch. This kid picked on me for years, and I was never going to see him again, so I figured 'fuck it.' He went down and the recess monitor came running over. See, this was in the day when fighting got you a talking to, and maybe a time out. It's not like it is now, after Columbine and all that. Now, you fight and they press charges, and maybe somebody gets hit with a civil suit.

So jerkass goes to the nurse, and I get my butt planted on a bench five minutes into my last recess. EVER. I pleaded with the lady that this was my last one. My pleas fell on deaf ears.

As I'm sitting there, grumbling "he started it" to myself, Melissa came running up to the recess monitor crying her eyes out. It was hard to make it out around the sobs but I caught that she lost a ring. Something about it belonging to her dead grandma. I start looking around the ground nearby, and almost instantly a glint caught my eye. I calmly got up off my bench and walked right over to it. The monitor lady starts yelling commands at me. I couldn't really hear her over the rushing of blood in my ears, but it was something about "where do you think you're..." and "...young man!" I picked up the ring and quietly walked back toward her and Melissa.

The monitor lady cut herself off in mid-sentence as I extended my hand to her sobbing charge. When she saw the ring, Melissa lit up like somebody just plugged her in. She took it, and knocked me off my feet in a big hug. After the recess monitor helped us back to our feet, she hugged me again and did something that I will never forget my whole life. She took my face in one hand and kissed me on the cheek. With that she ran off to show her friends that she had gotten her ring back. As I slowly lifted my hand to touch the lucky cheek the recess lady patted my shoulder with a friendly gesture and said " That was very nice of you." She hesitated a second. "Go on. It's your last day. Go play." I still couldn't move, but it didn't matter. With my hand still on my cheek I heard the horn of the family station wagon summoning me to my fate.

Back in Black

Went to a theme party last night. A Goth themed party. At first I was very reluctant to go, but thankfully Ryan could see that I was grumpy and would have just stayed in and been bored all night. So I went. I made both our costumes too. That was the fun part.

God, I wish I could've gotten pictures. I wanted to stop and get a disposable camera, but forgot. My costume consisted of making my hair a huge anime-worthy mass of spikes, a black wife-beater shirt, black slacks and black boots. The devil is in the details though. I wore black eye-liner to give me that creepy Robert Smith look, black lipstick, (because goddamn does that look cool with the outfit) and a couple of choker necklaces. Next I took a pair of Meg's red fishnets (with her consent, of course) and cut them up to make these badass fingerless fishnet gloves. I gave one to Ryan and I took one. Then I took a pair of opera length gloves I bought for halloween last year, and cut of the pinky and index finger to make some weird gloves (also gave one to Ryan). So I got one red fishnet sleeve, and one black sleeve, and my tat peeking out the back of the wife-beater. Add my bondage bracelets, about five rings, and a long wallet chain and I looked pretty fucking badass. Ryan's was topped off with a long, wide black skirt of Meg's. I kinda wish I could've fit in the skirt, but no biggie. We looked pretty damn cool together.

At this party I got hit on by a couple of... well, let's just be nice and say they weren't chicks you'd see in a beer commercial. Anyway, besides those girls this very flaming guy named Rod was chatting me up. He'd come and go, but he always found a reason to return to talk to me. The very last time he did so, I was sitting on a couch while he was doing a very sexual dance with some of the drunk girls. He flopped down next to me, leaned in and surprised me by just blurting out a question that I get asked all too often.

He prefaced with "Look, I don't want to offend you, or anything, but..."

I saw the rest of the sentence a mile off. I told him I wasn't offended at all, but that I'm happily straight. His shoulders sagged briefly in disappointment, but he was drunk and having fun, so he shook it off pretty quickly. Then he merrily announced to me "Well, I'm gay."

I chuckled a little, and said "I could tell."

He looked startled for a second and asked how I knew.

Now it was my turn to preface. "Well, I don't mean to offend you, but..." I'm sure he saw the rest coming a mile off, but I was obliged to finish what I started. "Well, uh... you kinda... I don't know... give off that vibe, I guess."

Again, he looked startled momentarily. I thought, 'oh shit, I have offended him'. But then he recovered, just as he had before. He literally shrugged it off, and asked "I do, huh? A gay 'vibe.' Interesting." And then he resumed grinding with the nearest female, as if he had never been talking to me at all, just sort of taking a break from the floor.

Fun night and fun people. And, now children, next time you're out partying, just remember the moral of this story is if you're a straight boy all the unattractive girls will hit on you, and if you're a gay boy all the attractive boys are straight.

Bizarre Beverett Blinkings

Had a couple of strange dreams this morning. The loingest and strangest involved Kim Beverett. I'm lounging in a chair dictating a letter, and she's reciting my schedule for the day. It's obvious that I'm some high-powered business guy, and she is my indespensible assistant. In the middle of our pow-wow two cell phones ring, one in my left pants pocket, and one in my right.

I answer the first phone and silently mouth to my assistant "It's Beverett" and hand her the phone. She rolls her eyes, takes the phone and puts on her fake patient voice. I quickly realize that giving her that phone was a terrible idea, so I answer the other phone, tell them to give me a second, and trade phones with her. Also, the phone I gave her was a strange butterfly shaped, barrette-looking thing, while the one I kept looked just like a normal, flip-style phone.

So now my assistant, Kim Beverett, is taking a business call, while i'm taking a personal call from...Kim Beverett. Weird.

The Kim I'm talking to is hysterically crying. I ask her to calm down and take a deep breath and tell me what's wrong.

"Did you know Mackenzie?" She asks me.

Yeah I knew her, why?"

"She killed herself. Chugged a half bottle of turpentine."

"Jesus!"

"Yeah, I'm really worried about her brothers, Ben and David."

At this point my mind wanders a bit, and I remember that the Mackenzie Keller I knew (in real life) only had a sister named Mari. I think that's just about the end of this dream.

Next dream, I'm at a party or something and there's a Dairy Queen booth, kinda like mall food-court style. I order an ice-cream, and they give me the wrong order. I go back and yell at them that this isn't what I ordered, and they completely ignore me, so I have to eat what they gave me. Then I remember being at a mall with my Dad and brother and running into and old friend from high school, Justin Mackenzie. He was taller than remember, but so was I. He was laughing jovially and had an entourage of beautiful women surrounding him as he walked past me. He noticed me and waved hello, but kept on walking. Weird, two Mackenzie's in one night. Both from my past. I wonder what the hell that all means.

I'm exhausted and it's very early for me to feel that way (only 11:30 pm here) so I'm going to make this brief.

I took a gander at the aforementioned Lord DoBell's blog today and was pleasently surprised by a link to this online comic. Check it out. It's worth your while, especialy if you're involved with the website we've been dilly-dallying about lately.

Breaking News From The Front Lines!

This just in; After five consecutive days of California's infamous Meg Embargo, an accord was finally reached today between the leaders of both sides. The following is a transcript of their historic conference.


Lord J. Knucklehead: We, the free peoples of The Land Of Poop, do hereby request that you cease your moronic with-holding of our queen.

Governor Arnold: Doy-uh, what's in it for us?

Lord J. Knucklehead: (heaves a dramatic sigh, contemplates for a moment) Very well, I shall, in my infinite wisdom, balance thy budget for thee. This, and when your people inevitably turn on you as they did on The Lord Davis, I shall grant thee sanctuary in my realm. What say you to this?

Governor Arnold: You sure do talk funny.

Lord J. Knucklehead: Yes, that's wonderful, you giant child, you. Do you accept my terms?

Governor Arnold: Hold on. (whispers briefly with his chief of staff, treasurer, and wet-nurse) We have a deal.


So, as you can see, all is right again in The Land Of Poop. In other news; Lord Knucklehead himself would like to personally thank and congratulate The Lord DoBell of The Realm of The Dead on a job well done. "Many thanks to you, good sir knight, on the shiny and pretty new format."

Tune in next time when Lord Knucklehead requests the aid of good Lord Dobell and his zombie horde in all out war on California. I will have my vengeance, Schwarzenegger!

It's been a strange day.

I was already exhausted when I got home last night from Brian's somewhere near 1ish in the am. I stumbled in to do my ususal pre-bedtime rounds on the good ol' WWW.

I sat down and noticed that my "D drive" (a 40 gig drive) had only 111 megs of free space left. Those of you who, like me, are into completely stomping all over the rules set forth by the DMCA will know the perils of a full harddrive only too well. I had just downloaded a handful of movies, and some videogames, and now there was room for nothing else. So, the only course of action was to burn a bunch of shit to CD to make more room, because my appetite for piracy can never be satiated.

My frigging CD burner wasn't burning, and I spent a half hour futzing around with it before I finally noticed that I never told it to use the Samsung CDR drive. It turns out it had been creating ISO's and saving them on my hardrive the whole *&%$ time. That done, I started burning a CD, and it took 25 minutes to burn! Halfway through I noticed that it was set to burn at a rate of 4x, not the 40x that is standard for my burner.*

*NOTE: I have just formatted and reinstalled everything, and it appears that I missed a few details of configuring. DAMN.

So, now my settings are all fine, i've only burned three &^$# CD's and it's almost 5 am.

Get up at 11 am, go work out, beat the hell out of myself with a half hour of cardio (OH YEAH!) and come home. Make egg, potato, cheese, and onion burrito. Mmmm. Sit down to write and maybe storyboard a little... monstrous headache sets in.

Damn it all.

My eyes become hyper-sensitive to light, and my skull becomes hyper-sensitive to just about everything except lying prone on the couch with a blanket over my face.

Half hour nap later and the headache is gone, but I feel all nautious and groggy. I wonder if it's something I ate, or if I'm fighting off a little something. Meh. Either way, I feel like poop.

A moment of shame.

Tonight at Volleyball, there was a car accident on the freeway about 200 yards from where we were playing. My immediate response in my head was "go, run, see if they need any help." I stood there in shock for a second. Yeah, okay, fine a second or two to assimilate the data, THEN run, right? Nope.

I stood there like a schmuck for a second and then asked aloud. "Should we go see if htey need any help?" Somebody said yes, and I was off running just like that. But why not sooner, and why did I seem to need permission?

We got there and everybody was fine. No serious injuries, and everybody was conscious and cell phones were calling authorities, and it was fine. Some small fantasizing part of me was actually the tiniest bit disappointed that I couldn't help. As I ran over there, hero fantasies were playing in my head. In my head I'm holding someone's hand and putting pressure on a bleeding wound and telling them it's all going to be okay. In my head I'm puking because someone just died in my arms. In my head the worst case scenario is coming to life, and then I get there and find I'm completely useless and now winded and in pain from sprinting on a slightly twisted ankle. Immediately after feeling this disappointment all I had to do was remind myself that this outcome is much better for all involved, and i was fine again, but still.

I'm sure as you read this you're saying "dude, it's human nature, you reacted like most people would." I agree, but that doesn't make me any less ashamed. And don't worry, it's not that horrible, sullying shame that causes people to throw themselves from great heights. It's just.... well... I guess, it's just one of those things.

Hate to get political again, but that's all I seem to hear about in the news lately, so it's a big chunk of what I think about each day.

John Kerry is not the man I want for president, and now that I am pretty sure I'll have to chose between him and &$%# Bush, I'm pretty upset.

You see, when I finally got into paying attention to this whole race about a month ago, I had never heard of Kerry, but I made it my business to know at least something about all the other Democratic choices. Kerry came to my attention after succeeding in all these early polls and primaries and whatnot. So, I had to look into him too.

I did not like what I saw.

My main motivation in gettting involved is I want Bush out. And the main reasons I want Bush out, are the same reasons most people want him out:

1 The farce of a war on a country that we crippled 10 years ago. I read an interview with that Kay guy and he said, after extensive searching, even if we had lifted all the sanctions from the last war on Iraq TODAY, they would not be a serious threat for at least 5 more years. That's IF we lifted them, which we weren't about to do, by any means.

2 The DMCA and Patriot Acts that Bush supported that seriously limit my rights as a citizen in general.

3 His insistance on fighting state legislation, and threatening to make ammendments on gay marriage; an issue that hurts nobody. Even if you believe that gays are going to hell, they're still hurting nobody but themselves.

4 He has always come across, even from his early campaign days in the first election, as just an all around fucking moron.

Now, the biggest reasons are obviously 1 and 2. I just looked into Kerry and found out that as a senetor he supported them both.

SO WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!?!

Why should I vote for either of them? Answer: Kerry shows himself to be ever-so-slightly the lesser of two evils by supporting gay rights. So, begrudgingly, he gets my useless goddamn vote.

I must apologize to you, my loyal readers, for yesterday I flagrantly lied to you. You may remember me saying something to the effect that.... OH HELL, just scroll down and read yesterday, I'm not only a liar but lazy.

So, anyway. I went back to Homestar immediately upon waking the next day and finished the last leg of the StrongBad Emails that we didn't manage to get through the previous night.

I'm sharing this with you because one of them had me fall out of my chair laughing for about ten minutes.

To see this cartoon; take the link below and scroll down to an email called "Anything" It's not too far down. But when you watch it, make sure to wait for a while after the paper comes down at the end. It's worth the wait.

Strong Bad

Jeeze, I hope Official Gurg's funny police don't find out about me illegally importing funny. If you care, please keep this on the DL. Think of the children. :(

Watched Strong Bad emails for a mind-numbingly long time to night. I think we spent at least two hours watching them back-to-back-to-back-to.... well, I think you get it.

Not that it wasn't fun and funny, but man, I think it's going to be a few days before I can go to HomeStarRunner.com again. Oye.

Ho hum. Tried my damnedest to work on storyboards today for the histories. I got about 2/3 of one done. I can't seem to keep myself focuse all alone in this apartment when I've got things like books, and movies, and cd's and video games to distract me. I'll try harder tomorrow. Tomorrow is a weight day too. A light day, but nevertheless, i focus better after starting with a good workout.

Bizarre dreams this morning

I had this series of dreams that were kinda like a saga. I hit snooze a couple of times and each time I went back to sleep it was the same dream sequence. Here goes

I'm driving through downtown Phoenix looking desperately for the intersection of 7th and Washington and it wasn't like I was lost, because I was constantly on the right track, but it was just way further than I was sure it should be.* In reality it's not that far from where I live, but in the dream it just seemed to get farther and farther. In the car with me was my brother and his woman and/or David. I say and/or because it kept changing. I needed to get where I was going for an appointment of some kind, but I can't remember what kind of an appointment. I think while I was driving it was a Dr's appointment, but once I found the place it was actually to see my agent.

And I remember that for the most part I was driving from the driver's seat, but suddenly I looked down to see that Im sitting in the back seat, reaching around with an arm on either side of the seat in front of me to grab the wheel. The pedals became unneccassary I guess. And when I was in the driver's seat it was front left, but when I was reaching around the driver's seat the wheel was on the front right seat, European style.

ALARM GOES OFF. I hit snooze.

After the blurry and unfortunately forgotten run through the offices in the building, it's back to the car. Then I drive (by myself this time) to my old house on Kiowa. I know that I don't live there anymore, but I just know that my key still works. I let myself in and head right for the kitchen, and my old room, and the garage to round up my stuff that I left from when we moved out. There' s a lot of it too. Some dishes, my pool cue, some paintings, etc. As I'm about to leave, the family that lives there now drives up. I start to panic, because I'm not supposed to be there. They walk in the front door with me standing in the middle of their living room, so I decide to play casual. I start to pull the key off my ring to give it to them. Surprisingly, they walk in and say "Oh, hey Joey. What's up?" Then they ask me to paint this wall and fix this and that. Apparently I'm their maintenance guy or something so it's normal for me to be there. I apologize for having left my stuff for so long, and take it and leave.

ALARM GOES OFF. I hit snooze.

This last one is hazy. I don't remember how I got there, but I know it was connected to the previous chunks. I remember rows and rows of paintings on long walls, like a gallery. And I remember bags of Doritos. That's about it.

*I should mention that the car dream is a variation on a recurring nightmare I've been having since childhood. It goes like this. My mom drives to some store or something with me and my little brother (both of us very small, no matter our actual age at the time of having the dream) in the back seat. She parks and says something to the effect that she'll be right back, and that we should stay here. After she leaves, the car starts to drive itself away, scaring the hell out of me and my bro. We get out of our little car seats and try to take control of the peddles and wheels, but it doesn't respond. Pretty freaky for us as little kids because not only our we lost from our mommy, but we're speeding along at high speeds, out of control in an beat-up gold station wagon.

This morning's dream started with me and my brother in the old station wagon with a somewhat lost feeling, but this time we weren't little kids, and I could control the car. This time I could read the street signs, and I figured out where we were, and from there a new dream formed.

Day 2:

The only ladies I came across today were the ones working in the office at my complex. Most of these ladies are 40ish and overweight. Though one of them is 20 something and very cute. Lisa? Leeza? Liza? Don't remember, but she was the one who helped me and Meg with our paperwork on moving in. I didn't go up and talk to her today for two good reasons:

A: There was a large glass wall dividing the office from the weight room that I was working out in.

B: I remember her from the lease signing and she seemed too... too... i don't know. Too business-like maybe?

Then I saw Meg. She came home with my favorite dinner and then humped my brains out. Ahhhhhh.

Ladies and gentlemen, I do believe we have a winner.

Damn. Never got around to getting a more interesting item on that list done. Oh well. Today's should be a complete waste of time as you're supposed to look at everyone you see and wonder if they are your soul-mate. First off, I'm pretty damn sure it's Meg, and secondly the only other people I will see today are my male friends. While they are attractive and sensitive young men, they are, unfortunately, the wrong sex for my personal preference. Ho hum.

DAY 1: This Book Will Change Your Life.

So, I started this book called (see above) Each day you do some kinda crazy activity, and it's got a year's worth. Today's was the first and they start you off nice and easy. Today they gave me a list of some simple things and you pick one.

Unfortunately, thus far I have only done the easiest, and most inane of the list and that was triple knotting my shoe laces. Meh. but as I am out the door now, I will attempt to insult a bug between here and the parking lot.

More later......

I don't normally get political here on Poop Shute, but I saw an interesting quote on the BBC website today. It was something I never thought of, but kind of made me say "oh yeah, that's right!" when I read it.


"The conventional wisdom used to be that the left spent and the right reined spending in, says the BBC's North America business correspondent Stephen Evans. "

It's funny too, that Bush's Left Wing predecesor handed him the biggest surplus in U.S. history, and Bush (a right winger) turned it into out biggest deficit in history.

Just thought I'd share that little tidbit.

Also, I'm really pissed off that ALL NPR seems to want to talk about in the domestic news is electin stuff. That's all they talked about before California's recall, and it's all their talking about now before the national election. At least with Cali it was only like a month or two before the Swarzeneger fiasco, but with this we have about NINE MORE MONTHS!!!!!

Lounged late in bed with my baby. Ahhhh. :)

Had a fairly unproductive meeting with ART for Compleat Werks (not a typo). Meh.

Won eleven bucks on the superbowl. Hooray.

Had a fun, albeit short, night of volleyball. **insert exclamation of mixed joy and meh**

That's about it. Me tired. Must go to that soft thing with the other smaller soft things on it.

No, not Meg, silly! Bed.

And Meg too, I suppose. Now that I think of it. :)