may the circle be broken

i did it- i've forcibly removed myself from the little cabal we had going. it was a decent run, but just degenerated over months into some little self supposed culture club. i don't have the energy to maintain appearances anymore. really, i don't fucking care to maintain appearances.

it was fun to be a yuppie for a little while.

you guys have fun with it, give my regards to the pretty people.

i'm sick of atheists

jesus fucking christ you guys are insufferable. i've always thought the jesus freaks were an insecure bunch- but the atheists had to go piss in that punch bowl.

number one- are you "spiritual"? yes? then you're not an atheist, dipshit. don't go qualifying it for people. say it loud, say it proud. why is this so hard to do? it's not, i do it all the time. "i'm an atheist." there's no shame in that, it's not a goddamn AA meeting.

second- quit arguing with the christians. it's like picking on the retarded kid in P.E.- it might be fun for the time being, but you're gonna feel like an asshole sooner or later. plus, you're getting it exactly backwards- the more you have to convince people you're right the weaker your argument looks.

so, please, just shut the fuck up. i mean, welcome to the party, but don't go inviting the whole fucking neighborhood. i don't want to float the keg.

decisions

traded in a testicle for an ipod today. not sure why it took me 30 minutes to make up my mind, as if it was a decision of terrific consequence.

um, um, uuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, give me the silver one.

you can't eat enough toast

ho ho ho. today might as well be the day. the last 11 hours or so have already doled out a surprise or two, so it seems like a good idea to start documenting some of this shit.

first things first- i watched an entire ove glove infomercial yesterday. our ability, as animals, to spend a full 30 minutes fawning over the virtues of a fucking oven mitt is fascinating to me. it would seem as though 99.2% of the things we do and say in our lives is absolutely without purpose or merit.

so i was just tickled shitless when i showed up at the christmas party last night and there was an ove glove laying on the counter. i think it was my reward for the gift of the clapper. last minute gifts from walgreens usually work out to be the best. the glove wasn't any rosetta stone or anything, but you can indeed handle a flaming piece of firewood with it.

how i managed to make it into the kitchen is beyond me. but thank god i puked the 2 gallons of cheap table wine and various spreads, tapenade, and grain products all over the tile floor, instead of the omnipresent white carpet- which now impresses me for the fact that the house is inhabited by a couple of rakes, prone to their own episodes of egestion and sauce induced feats of dexterity. having your friend mop up after you've spewed about 30 bucks worth of calories (that he supplied) all over his kitchen is some sort of indirect act of submission- like laying belly up to the alpha dog. i'm not sure what else i could have done, maybe i should have shown somebody my penis.

this isn't going to be pretty. oh well, it's not pretty on the inside, either. kind of like last night, i guess. anybody have some wine?