mechanicalcrab

Here's something interesting. It a blog by someone who is believed to be a famous hollywood type actor(George Clooney or Owen Wilson are some of the guesses) who is using an anonymous blog to rant humorously about hollywood type crap. Hints to their identity include the fact that they are "bored by Shakespeare and this summer's Troy, and they admire Joan Rivers." My guess is that it's Joan Rivers.

So I was at home with my girl watching Tin Cup the other day. She totally hit the motherload with me, didn't she? I mean, that is one lucky lady. Like, I don't want to say I'm God's gift to women or anything because there is no God. I'm just saying if there was a God who gave gifts, and he was very cheap, God's gift right here.

Anyway, there was this scene at the 19th hole where the golphers are drinking and acting macho. And Don Johnson gets in Kevin Kostnert. So, Don ends making a bet that Kev can't make a trick shot out the window, over the pond, off the elderly black caddy's head, and up the pelican's ass. And he makes the shot and voila, superior machismo asserted.

And I'm sure that men being men in competition, that stuff like that really happens, like that scene is probably accurate. But to me machismo paired with golf is like getting all macho and going, "Check it out. I can make this yo-yo walk the dog?"

Muthafucka

So my job consists almost entirely of paperwork. It's hectic at work right now, folks are a little stressed. Long story short:

I just got in an argument with a co-worker over a piece of paper. A motherfucking piece of motherfucking paper. No shit. How petty can you--I bring you this piece of paper because I'm pretty sure it's your turn to get it, and then you tell me its not your turn and you're not taking it and that's not my problem, I just pass out the paper, then I'm mad? Over a piece of fucking paper. Fuck me.

Addendum to the post below(you might want read it before reading the following.):

I've been thinking, and I realize that the conclusions below might be a little shaky. On the one hand, the whole god is gay thing is probably trite, on the other, just dismissing him as a big, dumb, ignorant, prick is not fair.

I'm sure if he is a prick about this stuff, it most likely comes from some wierd experience he had/ Like, he was hanging out in the locker room with Odin and Vishnu and what not, and this swan came floating in, and he picked it up to say hi because technically all the animals are his pets, and the thing started nuzzling and nipping at his genitals, and it turned out to be horny old bi-curious Zeus, and it totally freaked him out. This is not to excuse God's being a big dumb ignorant, moronic, prick. It's just to say I understand that there may be more to it than that.
©

Cutting Christians some slack.

So the first gay marriages have taken place in MA. Unfortunately, the local christian groups are having trouble applying the love, understanding, and compassion christians are famous for because apparently, God hates Fags. This puts a real crimp in their doctrine,the whole love people part I mean, but they continue the struggle anyway. They don't call'em christian soldiers for nothing.

Now, assuming there really is a God (speaking of crimps in the doctrine, I don't know how they get past that one. Stubborn little buggers.)then the question becomes: Why does he hate gay people, and why would he call them fags? You would think that by now God would at the very least have learned some tact. You don't hear him using the N word very often anymore, and he is totally racist. Except against latin peoples. He knows his demographic. But I digress.

So God's a big homophobe. Most powerful being in the universe, can't deal with guy-on-guy frenching. Just doesn't make sense. I have to think maybe there is something deeper to God's homophobia than just plain ignorance, honestly. I mean, he's so vehement about it. So I stepped back and thought about the Goddster and his anti-gay rhetoric for a moment, moment and a half tops.

Here's a guy who had a child through a surrogate mother, has been living as a confirmed bachelor for thousands of years, loves pomp and circumstance, dresses all in white, lives in a white and gold castle in the sky . . . Ah-hah. God doesn't hate fags. God is a fag. Now I get it. Self-hatred is the most difficult hatred to overcome after the hatred of others. Come out of the closet GdashD. Love yourself because we already do. No matter what.

Well, it's either that or he's a dumb prick . . .
©

Oh my job, like many, is awful. Tiresome, tedious, will-sapping. On the bright side, it's also mind-numbing and low-paying. So what do I do? Where do I turn for inspiration? Or at least a break from the soul-choking drabness? I am lost.

But then, I surfed over to blogspot to log into my blog and not write anything again, when lo and behold, a choir of angels doth sings. Blogspot has a brand new look! A whole new easy-to-use set up. Can you fucking believe it? My head is spinning and I can't catch my breath. Thanks blogspot. The face of my dreary world is once again flush with color. Rosy cheeked! I am eternally grateful Mr./Ms. blogspot, whoever you are.

I wanna blog.

Blog!

I want to blog.

Blog!

First off lessee . . . The Swan. Gross gross show, for so many reasons. Women who need plastic tits for their self-respect because they're not supposed to feel good otherwise. Not to excuse these people for their own shallowness.

Like that women in the commercial who, when the new her is revealed sobs,

"Ohh I'm so beautiful!"

Don't worry. Underneath you're still the same ugly chick you always were.