Death in June of Course (or...is NBC going to keep fucking anything on the air?)

Watch Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip tonight at 9:00c...it's going off the air in fucking June. As with so many of the 9-10 schedual on NBC (Not Broadcast Compitent) with the exception of Medium, Studio 60 dies. We got 18 episodes...I will be buying the DVD.

(((03)))

"...and I will be alone again tonight my dear..."

Alone Again Or
(((03)))

Love Will Tear Us Apart (Again)

Control is a biopic film about the late Ian Curtis (1956-1980), lead singer of the legendary post-punk rock band Joy Division. The screenplay is based on the book Touching From a Distance, by Curtis' wife, Deborah, who is also a co-producer of the film.

The film details the life of the troubled young musician, who forged a new kind of music out of the punk rock scene of 1970's Britain, and the band Joy Division, which he headed from 1977 to 1980. It also deals with his rocky marriage and extramarital affair, as well as his increasingly frequent seizures, which were thought to contribute to the circumstances that lead to his untimely suicide on the eve of Joy Division's first U.S. tour.

The title is a reference to one of Joy Division's more memorable songs, "She's Lost Control", which many feel Ian Curtis wrote as a reference to his own life.

The film premiered at the Cannes Film Festival, on 17 May 2007, where it was received well by the critics.

(((03)))

Caveat lector vs. Random Photos v.2

1) Jon and Jason

2) Matt and Laura

3) Dave and Spiffy

4) Demel and Abby

5) French and Trish

6) Glenda, Jason and Spiffy

7) Mark and Spiffy

(((03)))

Caveat lector vs. Random Photos

1) My girlfriend Laura and Spiffy the Squirrel

2) Matt and Jon (very cool guy I only see once or twice a year)

3) Laura at Obzeet

4) My bro from another mo Walt and Laura

5) Matt and Spiffy the Squirrel

...more on the way

(((03)))

Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain

L'homonyme de ma fille. Mon espoir est pour la magie de la seconde elle est né...

(((03)))

Chalk that one up to bad judgement if you like (or...what the fuck?)

It never stops amazing me...the double standard...the fresh new hell offered up as if to give homage to all that is chaotic and warped. The singular method by which our lives are in constant struggle when all along...had we just given the tiniest little bit of slack...we wouldn't struggle at at all. The time bombs fuse is about to be lit...the earth will shudder, and everyone will look around either with that stupid fucking look of "what just happened?" or..."See, I fucking told you, dumbass". Either way...it will suck. Gather the flock, corrupt the herd. We are about the meet Omega. What a long, strange trip its been. Fucking goodbye.

(((03)))

A bao a qu

Close your eyes, roll back your head...let it take you somewhere else. Of course it's BORIS! Watch the entire movie for maximum results. Or, you can stay in your ignorant and uninformed world. From Mabuta no ura.

(((03))) V.2

MaLA vs. Obzeet

05.15.07

(((03)))

The deepest water (or...no shallow end here, you are in over your head)

...did you really think that you weren't? Did you have the illusion that this was all gonna work? That somehow one or both of you would start to see the other's side? Did you think you were good enough? That somehow you would fit in...that you could compete... or maybe have a place in her life? In her heart? Did you really think you were long term...that she saw herself with you in 5 years? Were you really under the impression that you'd grow old with her? Did you really convince yourself you'd be happy again?

(((03)))

Do you want to live forever? (or...no painting unscathed)

Will our pettiness matter to anyone in 100 years? Is it worth it to continue our hurt? Is it truly hurt, or damaged pride? Shall we continue to leave the door open...to let people in for a brief moment and let them create conflict that might not otherwise be there? Shall we let a momentary lapse of judgement destroy the peace? Shall we allow the silence to overtake us....to see out those little games that really don't help the big picture? It's like a tiny drop of red paint on a timeless, classic work of art that stains history and taints what was once so beautiful...you can still see art for what it is...but it will never be the same again...we know the red drop is there...and it appears there is no willingness to remove it.

(((03)))

I, Mouthbreather (or...a look into the psychology of mongoloid behavior)

With the threat of everyone all of the sudden using their brains well behind us...we can now focus on the con of the idiot.

A) Grew up with parents that didn't bother to teach manners, respect, common sense, cleanliness, decency or for that matter any application self-respect at all, yet in this day and age of mass-communication and the ease by which everyone complains of other people's actions, do nothing to curb their own incessant lack of acceptable social behavior.

B) Use excuses like..."I'm not from here" or indeed rely on others to vomit the phrase "give them a break...they're not from here".

C) Believe themselves to be above pitching in to do anything at all in a social situation (possible exceptions are if helping gets them noticed and therefore leads morons to think they are "nice"). This includes picking up after yourself, picking up what you may not have necessarily done yourself but in trying to help maintain order and cleanliness take 2 seconds out of your day. Cleaning a spill...(this includes water moron...you're the fucking idiot that cries the loudest when you lay your dipshit paperwork in a pool of your own mess near the coffee machine, then spout off about how no one cleans up).

These are but a few of the tid bits of CRAP that I put up with daily...and this is coming from an agoraphobic asshole who will barely step foot outside a few small areas of life...imagine my fucking complaint department if I had to endure the 'burbs.

Fuck off,

(((03)))

No you MAY NOT have a phone call (or...what the fuck is it with you people)

I work in the online assistance field...in other words, I help people with obvious crap. Shit that they should know...shit that the rest of us in the real world remember...usernames, passwords, registration numbers. Shit like that...common sense...jesus...you know you need to worry when your big business leaders and government officials can't remember their password...or indeed whether or not they've even registered with a website or not...and believe me...this happens...some of them can't remember that they've done it already in the last 30 days. A very alarmingly large number of women cannot remember what last name they had when they registered due to triple, quadruple and even quintuple marriages and feeling like they have to have 3 different hyphenated names to feel important...note to you fucking idiots...first name, middle name, last name, PERIOD...douche bags. And these dumb DUMB fucks that write "call me". Fuck you! No I will not call...if you can't understand a step-by-step so easy a fucking 8 yr. old can understand it e-mail...there is no FUCKING way I am going to listen to you ooze stupidity in person. Fuck the fuck off, get a life, write shit down, utilize shit that you can remember. People can't hold your retarded fucking hand your whole life...common sense...it's not just for those of us who give a shit anymore. Assholes.

(((03)))

Destroy what you know about me (or...how to end it all by simply being)

I'm an utter fuck up. I ruin things, push people away, I strive to make my life complicated and completely unlivable. I will never satisfy any inner-peace...I devastate and depress myself into a deeper and darker living nightmare until I've murdered my own soul. I am useless and am simply plugging away at a casual death-like existence. Fuck everything. Just gonna quit. Why not?

(((03)))

World Coming Down (the rise and fall and fall even further)

Ever have one of those fucking days? Everything that can, will go wrong...rent for some reason is higher...people call in the note on you out of the blue...people are distant and vague for reasons you can't imagine...your back hurts, people at work that usually nominally irritate you are now moderatelly doing so and now you find that you have $40 to last you the next two fucking weeks. It all makes you want to stand at the window of your 11th floor office...throw your chair through...and swan dive.

(((03)))

Petrol Holocaust (or...just how far can you go on an empty tank and what dead thing will fuck with you?)

All things considered, my day blew enough yesterday by the time I got off work...but little did I know that it was about to get even worse...oh yes...a lot worse. I get all the way to the bank (pay day yesterday) and due to a big ass misunderstanding, was made to leave and come back...well, brilliant fuck that I am...I didn't bother to put any gas in my tank and, as I left the bank and journeyed home...I ran out of gas on the George W. Bush tollway. After a significant tantrum that would have made Sarah Silverman blush...I hop out of my truck and begin walking...lucky for fucking Matt though...my truck stopped just shy of where the retaining wall butts up against the road...so I had about a foot of space between a 9 ft. wall and the dumbfucks that make up Texas drivers. I was a little miffed and to say the least...fucking terrified. Well, I made it to where the toll booth was and low and behold...I see a dead snake on the "side walk" and think to myself..."I am gonna kick this dead snake..." Why? I have no idea...it was hot and I was tired and drained and wanted to kill something...even if it was already...killed. No sooner does my shoe touch the snake...then it lets me know that not only is it NOT dead...but it's mood was on par with my own and he took a bite of my shoe...as luck would have it...I was wearing my dress shoes from the work day...thick as hell leather that kept my foot safe from the venom of this ill-tempered serpent. Had I been wearing my sneakers...he'd have sank his teeth in...and I have a feeling...that would have sucked....pretty much...REALLY sucked. After taking a giant leap away from that scary piece of shit...I continued on to Wal-Mart to get a gas can and wait for Dave to come to the rescue and take me back to the truck. What's the moral of the story? Things could be worse...or maybe...everything works out in the end? No! The moral is...if you want to abuse a dead snake...find a long stick and make fucking sure it's dead first...or maybe...the moral is...fill your fucking gas tank dumb ass.

(((03)))