City, city, city, city, city, city, shitty.
Shitty, city, shitty, shitty, city, city, shitty.
Hall, hall, hall, hall, hall, hall, hall, hall.
People inside me are askin' me to smoke up City Hall,
'Cause no one here is talkin'.
People inside me are askin' me to blow up City Hall,
'Cause no one here is rockin'.
People inside me are askin' me to blow up City Hall,
'Cause everyone is Rock-'em Sock-'em Robots.
Everyone is Rock-'em Sock-'em Robots.
Everyone is Rock-'em Sock-'em GO! OH!
Excerpt from City Hall
by Tenacious D
So as previously noted I spent last week at Sham and Macheal’s place while they were away. This was cool as they had central air and it’s been hotter than the inside of a cow on fucking fire out here. They also have a cable modem and X-box live, both of which I took full advantage of.
Unfortunately though they only have MSN messenger, so if any of you missed me on Yahoo, ICQ, or AOL last week now you know why. Sure, I could have downloaded a program and uninstalled it before I left, but Sham’s computer is miraculously virus/spyware free and I didn’t want to ruin that.
So over the week several things happened.
Wednesday night I finally played Halo 2 against Mistress Victoria on X-box live. When we were on the same team I did pretty good. One might say I have a special talent for covering her ass. Her luxuriously toned ass… But when we played one-on-one in a slayer duel, well, it wasn’t pretty. To say I was owned would be quite the understatement. She DESTROYED me. I am happy to report though that I have still never been shut out. I have never, in any game, had a zero score. Now I could point out that she did have choice of venue and weapons and rules, and that I was kinda tired and had a headache and was actually sick (more on that in a minute), but I don’t think that even under optimal conditions I could have scored more than two or three more kills than I did.
For the record, it’s Mistress Victoria: 10, Ford: 1. I think I actually had two kills, but I had an accidental suicide which deducted one point from my score. And yes, it’s an important goddamn distinction goddammit.
Thursday night I had to go to the hospital for one of the recurring infections that I complained to the disability people about. While waiting in the aptly named ‘waiting room’ I opened a letter from the disability people explaining to me why they’ve denied my disability claim because I didn’t have any infections when I applied. They also went on to say that since my bowel was repaired they basically don’t know what I’m complaining about. The letter doesn’t mention the hernia at all. I think this has a lot to do with the fact that the goddamn doctor didn’t look at the goddamn hernia. Oh yeah, they also basically told me to fuck off because I’m so young (nice to hear even under these circumstances) and educated that I should be able to find another job. Yes, I’m only 30, and yes I am college educated, but I’ve applied to a couple dozen jobs and I can’t even get a call back from fucking Hollywood Video. Anyways, I got some really groovy IV drugs and a prescription and went back to Sham and Macheal’s where I attempted to play some more Halo 2, but my blood was pounding in my head and the furniture was talking to me so I bowed out early. Early being about 4 AM. Sorry Victoria.
Friday night I went out to dinner with my sister, her friend Liz and my pal Jeremy the Kung-Fu-Jew. It was my sister’s idea and she covered me as I am now financially, as well as morally, bankrupt. Then I went back to Sham and Macheal’s and ate Cheeto’s in front of the TV, all the while trying not to think about the possibility of poltergeist activity and completely avoiding the basement so that the ghost of the landlord I killed couldn’t trap me in his freaky-deaky, hidden, sex room under the stairs. I didn’t mention the freaky-deaky, hidden, sex room under the stairs? Yeah, it’s kind of a long story. See, after George died they found a freaky-deaky, hidden sex room under his stairs.
Ok, maybe it’s not a long story.
By the way Skippy, if you want I can draw you a blueprint. I’m sure some of the ideas will come in handy for whatever sex-chamber you’re currently throwing together.
Saturday I tore through Sham and Macheal’s making sure all the living things they left me tending were still alive. I’m pretty sure they are. Even the ones they don’t particularly like. Those being the Guinea Pigs. Guinea Pigs are some pretty useless goddamn animals, but not as useless as the Manatee. Fuck the Manatee. Why are they on the endangered species list? What function do they perform? They’re useless and ugly and I think they’d be fun to feed M80’s to. I want to know what a Manatee goddamn tastes like. I’m talking grilled, blown-up, boat propeller tenderized, Manatee steak, baby. Someone get on that.
Where was I? Oh yeah, somehow all the pets and plants survived the week. I took nate to work, went to my brother’s place where I enjoyed the pool and some burgers, went back to Sham and Macheal’s and ended up over at Ryan and Raychel’s with my sister, Jeremy the Atomic Jew, Big John, regular Chris, and of course, Ryan and Raychel. A good time was had by all and no Manatee’s were harmed.
Sometime Saturday night Sham, Macheal and the kids returned home.
Sunday I went out to my Mom’s, burning about $8 worth of gas, to do some odd jobs around her house to make myself feel better about ‘borrowing’ money to pay my bills. I got some work accomplished, but in the end it didn’t do a whole lot to make me feel better about the money as she had to give me gas money so I’d make it back home, but I’ve never turned down a self-defeating task yet. That night the neighbor’s 13-year-old Derek came in and we watched movies and played video games till dawn, because sometimes I just need to be around someone on my emotional development level.
And today, I drove back out to Wirt County, burning another $8 in gas to start on a painting job. Yes, a job. Yes, me. I’m sure not all of you know I put myself through the first four years of my seven-year college career by building and painting signs. The money was good, but not constant, as is the case with this job. It’s a simple one, maybe 3 days work, for $150 tax-free dollars. It would have only been two days, but we didn’t have all the paint we needed today, so I just got some of the prep work out of the way. In the end, after the expense of the paint and the gas to and from I should just about break even. I’m figuring $30 for materials and $120 in gas.
And don’t you fuckers give me that “Well you know with inflation and cost of living increases gasoline isn’t any more expensive than it’s ever been” bullshit. Since my income is currently $50 a week, and it’s not changing any time soon, every increase in the cost of gas is a big kick in my nuts.
Fuck you OPEC!!!
So anyway, I think the government has finally fucked me to the point where one of the Social Security lawyers here in town can get me some fucking money. And on the light side I now don’t have to wait till August 4th to find out if they’re going to fuck me or not.
The government I mean. I KNOW the lawyers are going to fuck me. That's what they do. When you hire a lawyer you're basically saying "I hate you so much that I'm bringing a severe ass-fucking upon myself in the hopes that this lawyer will ass-fuck you a little bit harder and a little bit longer than he fucks me." And that's how I feel towards the government right now.
My life is just one big fucking, fucked up merry-go-round that just gets more and more fucked up with each revolution. Fortunately I have the steadfast determination of a man running headlong into a wall, and enough psychological disorders to find it all sickly funny.
I’m sure I’ve forgotten some shit, but that’s it for now. I’ll leave you with some more song lyrics that kinda fit my mood right now. If you don’t know this song, FIND IT. It’s one of my personal favorites.
Bring It On
By Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
This garden that I built for you
That you sit in now and yearn
I will never leave it, dear
I could not bear to return
And find it all untended
With the trees all bended low
This garden is our home, dear
And I got nowhere else to go
So bring it on
Bring it on
Every little tear
Bring it on
Every useless fear
Bring it on
All your shattered dreams
And I'll scatter them into the sea
Into the sea
The geraniums on your window sill
The carnations, dear, and the daffodil
Well, they're ordinary flowers
But they long for the light of your touch
And of your trembling will
Ah, you're trembling still
And I am trembling too
To be perfectly honest I don't know
Quite what else to do
So bring it on
Bring it on
Every neglected dream
Bring it on
Every little scheme
Bring it on
Every little fear
And I'll make them disappear
So bring it on, bring it on
Bring it on
Every little thing
Bring it on
Every tiny fear
Bring it on
Every shattered dream
And I'll scatter them into the sea
Shitty, city, shitty, shitty, city, city, shitty.
Hall, hall, hall, hall, hall, hall, hall, hall.
People inside me are askin' me to smoke up City Hall,
'Cause no one here is talkin'.
People inside me are askin' me to blow up City Hall,
'Cause no one here is rockin'.
People inside me are askin' me to blow up City Hall,
'Cause everyone is Rock-'em Sock-'em Robots.
Everyone is Rock-'em Sock-'em Robots.
Everyone is Rock-'em Sock-'em GO! OH!
Excerpt from City Hall
by Tenacious D
So as previously noted I spent last week at Sham and Macheal’s place while they were away. This was cool as they had central air and it’s been hotter than the inside of a cow on fucking fire out here. They also have a cable modem and X-box live, both of which I took full advantage of.
Unfortunately though they only have MSN messenger, so if any of you missed me on Yahoo, ICQ, or AOL last week now you know why. Sure, I could have downloaded a program and uninstalled it before I left, but Sham’s computer is miraculously virus/spyware free and I didn’t want to ruin that.
So over the week several things happened.
Wednesday night I finally played Halo 2 against Mistress Victoria on X-box live. When we were on the same team I did pretty good. One might say I have a special talent for covering her ass. Her luxuriously toned ass… But when we played one-on-one in a slayer duel, well, it wasn’t pretty. To say I was owned would be quite the understatement. She DESTROYED me. I am happy to report though that I have still never been shut out. I have never, in any game, had a zero score. Now I could point out that she did have choice of venue and weapons and rules, and that I was kinda tired and had a headache and was actually sick (more on that in a minute), but I don’t think that even under optimal conditions I could have scored more than two or three more kills than I did.
For the record, it’s Mistress Victoria: 10, Ford: 1. I think I actually had two kills, but I had an accidental suicide which deducted one point from my score. And yes, it’s an important goddamn distinction goddammit.
Thursday night I had to go to the hospital for one of the recurring infections that I complained to the disability people about. While waiting in the aptly named ‘waiting room’ I opened a letter from the disability people explaining to me why they’ve denied my disability claim because I didn’t have any infections when I applied. They also went on to say that since my bowel was repaired they basically don’t know what I’m complaining about. The letter doesn’t mention the hernia at all. I think this has a lot to do with the fact that the goddamn doctor didn’t look at the goddamn hernia. Oh yeah, they also basically told me to fuck off because I’m so young (nice to hear even under these circumstances) and educated that I should be able to find another job. Yes, I’m only 30, and yes I am college educated, but I’ve applied to a couple dozen jobs and I can’t even get a call back from fucking Hollywood Video. Anyways, I got some really groovy IV drugs and a prescription and went back to Sham and Macheal’s where I attempted to play some more Halo 2, but my blood was pounding in my head and the furniture was talking to me so I bowed out early. Early being about 4 AM. Sorry Victoria.
Friday night I went out to dinner with my sister, her friend Liz and my pal Jeremy the Kung-Fu-Jew. It was my sister’s idea and she covered me as I am now financially, as well as morally, bankrupt. Then I went back to Sham and Macheal’s and ate Cheeto’s in front of the TV, all the while trying not to think about the possibility of poltergeist activity and completely avoiding the basement so that the ghost of the landlord I killed couldn’t trap me in his freaky-deaky, hidden, sex room under the stairs. I didn’t mention the freaky-deaky, hidden, sex room under the stairs? Yeah, it’s kind of a long story. See, after George died they found a freaky-deaky, hidden sex room under his stairs.
Ok, maybe it’s not a long story.
By the way Skippy, if you want I can draw you a blueprint. I’m sure some of the ideas will come in handy for whatever sex-chamber you’re currently throwing together.
Saturday I tore through Sham and Macheal’s making sure all the living things they left me tending were still alive. I’m pretty sure they are. Even the ones they don’t particularly like. Those being the Guinea Pigs. Guinea Pigs are some pretty useless goddamn animals, but not as useless as the Manatee. Fuck the Manatee. Why are they on the endangered species list? What function do they perform? They’re useless and ugly and I think they’d be fun to feed M80’s to. I want to know what a Manatee goddamn tastes like. I’m talking grilled, blown-up, boat propeller tenderized, Manatee steak, baby. Someone get on that.
Where was I? Oh yeah, somehow all the pets and plants survived the week. I took nate to work, went to my brother’s place where I enjoyed the pool and some burgers, went back to Sham and Macheal’s and ended up over at Ryan and Raychel’s with my sister, Jeremy the Atomic Jew, Big John, regular Chris, and of course, Ryan and Raychel. A good time was had by all and no Manatee’s were harmed.
Sometime Saturday night Sham, Macheal and the kids returned home.
Sunday I went out to my Mom’s, burning about $8 worth of gas, to do some odd jobs around her house to make myself feel better about ‘borrowing’ money to pay my bills. I got some work accomplished, but in the end it didn’t do a whole lot to make me feel better about the money as she had to give me gas money so I’d make it back home, but I’ve never turned down a self-defeating task yet. That night the neighbor’s 13-year-old Derek came in and we watched movies and played video games till dawn, because sometimes I just need to be around someone on my emotional development level.
And today, I drove back out to Wirt County, burning another $8 in gas to start on a painting job. Yes, a job. Yes, me. I’m sure not all of you know I put myself through the first four years of my seven-year college career by building and painting signs. The money was good, but not constant, as is the case with this job. It’s a simple one, maybe 3 days work, for $150 tax-free dollars. It would have only been two days, but we didn’t have all the paint we needed today, so I just got some of the prep work out of the way. In the end, after the expense of the paint and the gas to and from I should just about break even. I’m figuring $30 for materials and $120 in gas.
And don’t you fuckers give me that “Well you know with inflation and cost of living increases gasoline isn’t any more expensive than it’s ever been” bullshit. Since my income is currently $50 a week, and it’s not changing any time soon, every increase in the cost of gas is a big kick in my nuts.
Fuck you OPEC!!!
So anyway, I think the government has finally fucked me to the point where one of the Social Security lawyers here in town can get me some fucking money. And on the light side I now don’t have to wait till August 4th to find out if they’re going to fuck me or not.
The government I mean. I KNOW the lawyers are going to fuck me. That's what they do. When you hire a lawyer you're basically saying "I hate you so much that I'm bringing a severe ass-fucking upon myself in the hopes that this lawyer will ass-fuck you a little bit harder and a little bit longer than he fucks me." And that's how I feel towards the government right now.
My life is just one big fucking, fucked up merry-go-round that just gets more and more fucked up with each revolution. Fortunately I have the steadfast determination of a man running headlong into a wall, and enough psychological disorders to find it all sickly funny.
I’m sure I’ve forgotten some shit, but that’s it for now. I’ll leave you with some more song lyrics that kinda fit my mood right now. If you don’t know this song, FIND IT. It’s one of my personal favorites.
Bring It On
By Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
This garden that I built for you
That you sit in now and yearn
I will never leave it, dear
I could not bear to return
And find it all untended
With the trees all bended low
This garden is our home, dear
And I got nowhere else to go
So bring it on
Bring it on
Every little tear
Bring it on
Every useless fear
Bring it on
All your shattered dreams
And I'll scatter them into the sea
Into the sea
The geraniums on your window sill
The carnations, dear, and the daffodil
Well, they're ordinary flowers
But they long for the light of your touch
And of your trembling will
Ah, you're trembling still
And I am trembling too
To be perfectly honest I don't know
Quite what else to do
So bring it on
Bring it on
Every neglected dream
Bring it on
Every little scheme
Bring it on
Every little fear
And I'll make them disappear
So bring it on, bring it on
Bring it on
Every little thing
Bring it on
Every tiny fear
Bring it on
Every shattered dream
And I'll scatter them into the sea
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