“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard: December 21, 2003

Friday, December 26, 2003

I have it! Proof positive that there IS, in fact, a God!

That's right, you heard it here first. Didn't you sort of figure that this was the place you'd get first news of the existence of divinity? I allways suspected that I'd be the medium for this message. Actually, I think I met God once before, durring that medical mishap of mine and my subsequent near death experience, but I was on a LOT of drugs, so I can't really swear to anything that happened except that God has a great place and Jesus shakes one hell of a martini.

But that has nothing to do with this. No, I had a Christmas miracle! Yes, the impossible happened. It was after dinner on Christmas Eve and I excused myself to the restroom. I shall spare you the details of what went on in there, but this is where the miracle happened. I went in. I did what I needed to do. I went out. And in all this time, with four female members of my family in the house, NOBODY KNOCKED ON THE FUCKING DOOR!

Now, my female readers (I think I can legitimately pluralize that) are doubting the validity of my claim, but the men have all found new faith in God as they all know what I'm talking about. I'm amazed that I can pinch a loaf at all without having to answer questions through a goddamn door.

Monday, December 22, 2003

So because I know some of you fuckers go into Rain Man type psychoses whenever I miss a day or two, here's today's post.

I went to the mall today. Those of you who know me know how I feel about the mall. It sorta falls between 'painful discharge' and 'Puff Daddy' on my annoyance scale (Puff Daddy being the LOWER end of the meter).

Yes, the mall sucks. Especially Vienna's wonderful Grand Central Mall. It sucks balls. Anywhere between November 1st and January 2nd or 3rd it's infinitely worse. We're talking Dante's Inferno bad. Apparently it's the ring that annoying baggy-panted sk8r punks, wanna-be gang-bangers and screaming infants get sent to.

While I'm ranting I should point out that I myself used to skateboard. Well, I tried to anyway. I sorta spent more time painting boards than riding them, but that made me more of a skateboarder than these assholes. I've seen them in the parking lots. Listening to bad music and wearing whatever rebellious fashions that MTV tells them they should be wearing that week. Apparently you're hot shit if you can ride for five feet and jump off the board, because that's all they ever seem to do. That and bitch about people hassling them, which nobody actually DOES because said 'sk8rs' are too pathetic for anyone to be the least bit concerned.

As for the gang-bangers, remember the movie 'Malibu's Most Wanted'? Alright, remember the TRAILERS for 'Malibu's Most Wanted'? (I'm pretty sure that's all anybody saw of that fucking thing.) That sums up our gang members here. I can't see a fucking red or blue bandana without hearing 'Pretty Fly (For a White Guy)' by the Offspring. See, Parkersburg has no turf wars because all the turf in Parkersburg is equally worthless. Here's your average 'gang' exchange:

Gang Member #1: You from South Side? South Side Sucks!

Gang Member #2: Yeah? Well so does North End!

Gang Member #1: Yeah, it does... Wanna go skateboarding in the mall parking lot?

And then there's the motherfucking screaming fucking babies...

Here's the deal. I know that babies sometimes feel the need to cry and they don't give a shit if they're in public. I also know that one must deal with such behavior tactfully. What I don't understand is why the bloody, motherfucking deuce someone would take an infant into the goddamn mall a week before Christmas!?!

The second thing about screaming children in public that bothers me is that parents no longer make ANY FUCKING EFFORT WHAT-SO-FUCKING-EVER to get that kid to stop. Yeah, I know, there's not much you can do with an infant. Might I suggest taking them the fuck HOME? Or at the very least OUTSIDE? Let them inhale some second-hand nicotine, that'll shut them the fuck up...

What vexed me however were the kids that were not the stroller-bound type, but the ones walking on their own and frequently head-butting my crotch. Kids just wander around fucking screaming. And not like every so often either. I'm talking "Scream!-*inhale*-Scream!-*inhale*-Scream! Ex-fucking-Cetera!

You know, when I was a kid I would have had the living shit beat out of me for doing crap like that. That's the problem with our country these days. Kids don't know that there are lines that, if crossed, have serious repercussions on the other side. "But I won't hit my kids! It's unnecessary and brutal and cruel!" Fine, don't beat your kids. I'm gonna beat mine. In fact, I'm gonna smack 'em around a little fucking extra to make up for the beatings you're not handing your fucking kids. That way in the future when your kids are in prison being anally violated with mop handles and my kids are laughing at them mine will be on the OUTSIDE of the damn cells. Shut the fuck up and go buy your kid that fucking skateboard they keep whining about.

Anyways, back to the fucking mall. I kinda had to be there, and since I was there with my mother and younger sister, who are, after all, women, I knew I wouldn't be getting out of there any time soon. To try and make it more bearable I ducked out of the overcrowded hallway and into one of the few places the mall harbors that I can stand: Spencers Gifts.

For those of you not familiar with Spencers it's where Goth kids go when your mall doesn't have a Hot Topic.

The scene within was horrific. It was packed. And this is the store that people tried to keep out of the mall because they sell, amongst other things, VIBRATORS!!! Yes, even the place where the moral high ground is farthest away was packed to overflowing with sk8rs and gang-bangers and screaming-fucking-babies, oh my!

You know, I studied martial arts for 3 years and in all that time I didn't duck as many thrown elbows or sustain as much groinal trauma as I did in one lap through that damn store.

So the score is:

The Mall: Sucks

Giftmas (Christmas): Sucks

Sk8ers: Suck

Gang-Bangers: Suck

Screaming Babies: Suck

The parents of Screaming Babies in Public Places: Will be the first up against the wall when the revolution comes.

And I assure you, it's coming. It's coming...



I'm outta here. I'm gonna go push screaming babies in front of punks on skateboards.

See you in hell.