Here’s a handy tool for business.


“Status-quo? More like Status I-don’t-think-so! Am I right? Right?”

Everyone hates made up busy work and buzz-words. And even worse, top-down motivational paradigm shifts. Things don’t change. But in order to look like they do, and somehow desperately plead to be recognized and validated, dumb fuckingbullshit gets made up and thrust upon us. 


Next time you have to use some fucking word or phrase your boss or company made up/stole from some “self-help” business book, just use the following. Plug in whatever it is- “SYNERGY” or “PRONOVATION” or whatthefuckever where I’ve labeled (CORPORATE FUCKING JARGON). 

 Just copy and paste the following with whatever (CORPORATE FUCKING JARGON) your company wants you to use, slap your name on the top, and let the compliments from the higher-ups ROLL IN!  It will not inspire anyone and will make you look like an asshole– but really, it’s what every ineffective fucker wants so he can try to justify his job, so why not get recognized for it!!! 


___Start Here___


By (Your Name)

(Your Fucking Department or Whatever)

(The date)



(CORPORATE FUCKING JARGON)s are not easy. They are not sane. They may not even be attainable.

And that’s kind of the point.

This gives us numerous examples of (CORPORATE FUCKING JARGON)s in corporate America, and serves to outline precisely what a (CORPORATE FUCKING JARGON) is. The most compelling part of the discussion was that of the nature of

(CORPORATE FUCKING JARGON)s: they have to be something that is exciting, motivating, and compelling in a self evident way. That is to say, the (CORPORATE FUCKING JARGON) should instantly be recognized as such. They are meant to illicit a response that separates the meek from the awesome. Those without great internal drive and ambition will see a (CORPORATE FUCKING JARGON) as lunacy: the truly great will be inspired by the sheer audacity and hubris, and will be monumentally motivated by this.

This (BULLSHIT) is my favorite thus far. It delves in to the mentality of those companies who we have established are Visionary, and breaks down the thinking behind truly AUDACIOUS goals.

After reading this paragraph, I wanted to expand my understanding of (CORPORATE FUCKING JARGON)’s. The first thing I discovered was of interest; an alternate definition of “Audacious” reads;extremely original; without restriction to prior ideas; highly inventive: an audacious vision of the city’s bright future.

This is directly from the dictionary, and it’s insightful and interesting that VISION is specifically mentioned in it as the prime example.

The (CORPORATE FUCKING JARGON) serves as both the carrot and the whip: it motivates by placing a seemingly unattainable finish line in front while simultaneously motivating by insisting, constantly “what could be”. This feeling of “what is possible” causes not only positive movement, but inherently evokes introspection: “How can I do this? Is it even possible? Am I good enough?” These are the kinds of questions those who truly achieve more and are vaulted to the highest levels of success constantly barrage themselves with. By setting goals- in particular those that seem nearly ridiculous and unattainable- a challenge is issued, accepted, and internalized. (CORPORATE FUCKING JARGON)’s are vital.

Impossible is no thing.

If there was only one item from this chapter that you could remember and implement what would

it be?

I really like the idea that a (CORPORATE FUCKING JARGON) doesn’t come with instructions, and introduction, or a primer.

You see a (CORPORATE FUCKING JARGON) and you know it, and it’s awesome.


I like ridiculous things. Especially when they are highly motivational and have direct causality to success and achievement.


so tired and content and succulent

joyfully detached. I watch my body.. lumber about in a meandering purpose less gait. Slumping here and there. loose and jellybodied and slack spined. and I see my mind, my thoughts, they come so slow and deliberate like real maple sap from the bark hole sweet and sticky and satisfying.  just happy and complacency and pseudo zen plorping all over the ground in big luscious globs of easy. Image and these words come out from the observer, enjoying the marshmallow brained caterpillar walking numb headed, seeing lucidly with enjoyment the spectacle laid out in front of it.

I bought sixty Apple i-macs once.



(imagine some really sweet atmospheric techno playing while viewing the picture above. Or drink a bottle of Robitussin. Your call.)

About six years ago, I purchased 60 i-mac computers. Why? Because I needed them. This high school way up on the other side of town was getting new equipment in their lab and wanted to get rid of them all. So for two hundred dollars, I loaded up my father’s primer grey van with these beautiful multi-colored easter egg looking relics. The truck had a tough time reaching 40 mph. It was surreal. The only thing I could think of the entire half hour drive home was 

“What if I get in a car wreck and die?”

I kept imagining the scene: the street absolutely littered with ten year old candy colored shattered plastic shrapnel. Just old boards and non-working CD drives and busted Cathode Ray Tubes all the fuck over. Liek some kind of dystopian uprising against our friendly painted oppressors had just taken place.

I felt like i was a Coyote, smuggling illegals over the border. These strange gleeful boxes loaded with Oregon trail and Number Crunchers. I was the underground technology railroad carting these poor souls to freedom. Then I realized-

What would that say about me? What would my legacy be? Would I be on the news? I don’t even like Apple products.

Because, really, what the fuck would people think? I very rarely care about other’s opinions. If i died and my extensive BDSM porn collection and more bizarre writing was exposed, I’d be fine with that. Happy, even, as it is a pretty accurate depiction of me as a human.

But what in god’s name would people think? I had.. Quite literally no reason to buy these fucking things. I thought about making aquariums, or subwoofer boxes, or new i-pad docks. 

And they’ve been sitting in what was once my father’s workshop in what is now an abandoned house that I grew up in. Time capsule to 1992. With the collective computing power of that smartphone you tossed on your bedside table. To sit there and slowly decay into shards of whimsically colored plastic waste for a thousand years.

Pillow Talk

A film about sex and love and talking. Co-Written by me. So, know, expect a bunch of the usual bullshit you normally see on here.

mephest no more.

An hour before, she had read my palms

and was surprised at 

how emotionally asymmetrical

they were

and then 

That look on her face

The situation

became apparent

and the force of her feeling

betrayed and confused

and crushed

hit me in the chest

i i had nothing to say

words didn’t come

like the moment of silence

just after a car crash

i was numb

and she walked out


because of my carelessness

my selfish 


black bile of speech

i’m cruel and mean


and she was gone

another little angel

with a tender fractured heart

who needed but love

but instead

i stomped on

and all she deserves

is someone 

to show her



how amazingly


her palms are





She’s the knowing sly smile

at the thought of her

the flirtatious kind you’d give to a stranger 

but when you’re alone 

and winking to yourself

her bouncy up to see you when you come home

when she wraps her arms around you

and pulls her body against yours

gropes you like a horny old man 

and squeels just to be near

when she feels your rigid response

she pretends to be confused

because this is our game

 she spills out of that white halter

and she bubbles out of those cheerleader type shorts

 she pucker for a kiss

when your lips meet she makes a fart noise in to your mouth

and giggles and runs away

that’s the thoughts

that have come to replace

the dank rot of malaise

and i know that

forever isn’t a threat


Releasing a short film I co-wrote and acted in next week…

Releasing a short film I co-wrote and acted in next week...

It’s kind of weird and kind of funny. I’ll keep you posted.



If you told me this morning, I’d be fighting a bear before the day was over I would have been skeptical. If you told me he would be a skilled mixed martial artists, I would have believed you slightly even less. But here I am, face down, palms on the floor. I’m keeping on hand, at least, down so that I’m considered a “downed opponent” and the bear can not knee me in the face. This is a fairly bold assumption, I realize, that the bear has the capabilities to throw knees. But hear me out: This bear is beating me in the clinch. His clinch work is really solid. The way he utilized underhooks makes me think he had some college wrestling, if it’s indeed a thing that bears go to college and are allowed to compete in sports. And let me tell you, the Thai Plum hes been utilizing is killer. I’m not certain where a bear picked up Muay Thai techniques- they’re not innate to the bear species, I don’t think.

Here’s some things I do know: Last night was bad. Really bad. Laura and I had a fight that I don’t know that we will recover from. It started out regularly enough- we went out for dinner. Thai food, interestingly enough. I had Peanut Chicken Skewers and seven martinis. Somehow, our conversation turned to politics, and she admitted to me she was a republican. She didn’t have any compelling reasons why, and didn’t know key points on numerous issues. But there it was: I was in a three year relationship with a Republican woman. A Hispanic, 22 year old woman Republican. At home I finished the better part of an eighteen pack of Steel Reserve Malt Liquor, and from there things get a little foggy. I do know I destroyed out entertainment center in a fit of rage. An entire bookshelf was thrown from the living room to the kitchen, and the kitchen table is broken. The glass decorative bowl of marbles that was on top of the bookcase spilled everywhere. The floor is just coated with words and marbles and tears. 

I woke up- this was before the bear, of course- and my hand was broken. I know it’s a re-fracture of a boxing injury. I know the engagement ring is not on Laura’s finger and it’s somewhere among the books and marbles. I know I reserved a U-Haul for her and told her she could have all the furniture we bought together. That’s really all we had to show, despite making a combined six figures a year. A shitty car with a ridiculously high interest rate and some moderately nice furniture. I’d be in an empty apartment. I told her to take it all. I just wanted her gone.

Now this bear, he’s got me down, and it’s become pretty apparent he’s got some fairly solid ground game. I would guess he has done some judo and catch-wrestling and possibly some Sambo. Which would probably make sense if he was a Russian bear. Perhaps an escaped Russian Circus bear who traveled the continent learning Sambo and Muay Thai and from the throat strike that initially took me down some Krav Maga. He’s got me in full mount and has a pretty strong key lock on my right arm. Shit. I’m going to have to shoot this bear.

So now I have a big dead bear carcass and an otherwise completely empty apartment and a hangover. I guess I’ll sit on the floor and read and drink leftover warm beer. I guess you don’t really know when “rock bottom” is but I know, unfortunately, It’s not a place you only have to visit once. I’ve built and destroyed empires and lived entire lives. My decade is a century. I’ll rebuild, yet again.

And really.. Who the fuck taught this bear to fight? 


This is twelve years old.


Our Sun is small, actually tiny in size and output when compared to the power of the great giants of our Universe. When our star dies, it will do so magnificently, destroying everything in this system. Yet this is nothing but a firefly to the bonfire that is the death of some white dwarves: the stars having a maximum mass analogous to the Chandrasekhar limit of 1.4 Solar Masses. When a giant star dies, it must either eject enough matter to stay beneath the limit or it will invert forcibly. The resulting butt hole is an implosion of a star so powerful and complete it punctures and fractures space time itself. This implosion and subsequent tear comes from the death of a white dwarf star, one that is equal three solar masses or more.


In addition to the event horizon and the apparent horizon, the anatomy of a butt hole includes the accretion disk. This is a collection of material formed as it falls into the high gravitational center of the butt hole. A rule of movement called the conservation of angular momentum cause the particles to spin as the get pulled inward. This force is coupled with centrifugal force, causing the spiral shape indicative of a butt hole. This disk is hot enough to produce X-rays just before entering the event horizon. This is the only outwardly recognizable physical part of the butt hole, and those formed from a quasar can give off more radiation than a galaxy of stars. Even though the butt hole gives off no visible light, it still exerts the same gravitational pull on neighboring stellar objects as it did before its collapse. For instance, in the unlikely event our Sun became a butt hole, without a loss of mass, our planetary system would still orbit in the same manner it does now. It is theorized that the closer you get to the singularity the more distorted timespace becomes. In theory, an observer who went into the butt hole could speed his watch until hitting the center. This is because of general relativity, where time can be viewed subjectively. This comes into opposition as we explore newer forms of physics.


There is constant new theory in the field of physics that force the reassessment of recently held ideas. This is obvious when the theories behind the demise, or perhaps relocation, of a butt hole are explored. To better understand the newer hypothesis behind butt hole deterioration and eventual end, some historical and perhaps new alternative theories can be observed. The commonly held proof behind light absorbing stellar objects was originated by Karl Schwarzschild in 1916. He showed that if a strong enough gravitational pull could be produced, even light could not escape. This is bound by the event horizon, or the region of the anomaly that appears flat but is actually only observable by the matter being drawn inexorably to the center “Hawking 2001 page.111”.  The more mass a butt hole has, the more space it takes up. The Schwarzschild radius, which is the radius of the horizon, and the mass are directly proportionate. A butt whole with a mass the same as our Sun would have a radius of only three kilometers. The hypothetically typical ten solar mass butt hole would have a radius of thirty kilometers. And a truly huge million solar mass butt hole at the center of the galaxy would be around three million kilometers in radius. This gives a relative sizing to these destructive forces, when compared with the 700,000 kilometer size of our Sun.


The term ‘butt hole’ was first used by John Wheeler in 1969. This was his term for collapsed matter, which was very wildly doubted at the time. He also hypothesized that butt holes could in fact be described by the Schwarzshilds’s solution. This allowed for much more hard physical evidence to be discovered. Using these new methods in conjunction with Einstein’s theory of relativity, modern physics started its new era of butt hole discovery. One such idea was that of a ‘dark matter’, or the opposite of regular matter, existed throughout the universe. This level of hypothetical science necessitated the invention of new genre of theoretic: string theory. This united the ideas of both quantum mechanics and general relativity by stating that energy moved on a wave form instead of just the traditionally held quanta format. With the addition of string theory, that of entropy was brought about. This stated that the information or matter than gets enveloped by the butt hole is stored in a random way, then ‘replayed’ as the butt hole dies. This information would look precisely the same to an outside observer in terms of mass, rotation, and charge, but on the interior and great number of states could exist. The entropy is equal to the horizon of the butt hole.


When the butt hole incorporates enough matter, it hypothetically reaches a singularity. Penrose said this happened by gravity becoming so strong as to form an apparent horizon, pulling until a singularity exists”. This is thought to be the point where space-time curvature ceases and time supposedly grinds to a halt. This was later deemed unlikely and current arguments propose the only singularity to have existed was that of the big bang. If a butt hole singularity does exist, it is unlikely to be apparent with older theories. The newest form of theory, however, takes into account not only all five current string theories, but also supergravity. This is done by uniting these by their common correct inferences- although it is not wholly obvious how. Called M-Theory, it is used to define singularities by Quantum Physics, and proposes the interior of a butt hole to be made of a Quantum Foam. The smallest unit M-Theory is the Planck constant. The size of one is determined by multiplying the uncertainty of the position, the uncertainty of the velocity, and the mass of the particle. This size is thought to be as small as a millimeter divided by a hundred thousand billion billion billion. This is Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Equation and the result can equal no smaller than Planck’s constant “Hawking 2001 page.43”.


The Universe as we know it can be perceived by mankind’s terrestrial brain in four known dimensions. Our knowledge is limited to those things we can easily see. But the ever progressing field of physics begs for more answers. There may be an all encompassing theory of the universe: the Theory of Everything. Or the M-theory, the great unification between modern theories, may be the final answer. Our past discoveries imply that there is much out there we do not know, or may never be able to observe without vast leaps in thinking and method. One such leap forward is the particle accelerator, a huge device used to smash and obliterate objects into tiny pieces. Unfortunately, in order to reduce subatomic particles to the size of the Planck length, we would need an accelerator the size of our solar system. So, the only way to possible observe such small particles is in the context of a butt hole.


Butt holes are theorized to be the bridge between universes. They cross between one dimension and the next. It is hypothesized that there not only the traditionally thought of five or six dimensions, but eleven. If you look at a butt hole, or rather the observable qualities of a butt hole, it is only perceivable by height and width, but demonstrates no thickness. It is thought to exist in all the other eleven subsequently, but is simply not perceivable by those existing outside as nothing more than something with the thickness of a human hair. We would only have to probe a short distance with a very high energy probe to reveal that space time is ten or eleven dimensional. There are some ideas that one or some of these could be infinite. Large extra dimensions could imply we live in something called a brane world, which is a four dimensional surface (or perhaps string) that exists as part of a much larger and multi-dimensional system. Non-gravitational and electric energies would not be allowed to pass through from one brane set of dimensions to another, and atomic state would be highly variable. Comparatively, curved space gravity would easily go throughout one dimension to another, but since it would spread out vastly in many directions, it would dissipate more quickly. If we did in fact have a brane world, there would be a corresponding ‘shadow’ brane. Since light would be confined to its originating brane, we would not be able to see our shadow. It is conceivable that a universe like ours, but in complete opposition, exists. Although it sounds like the basis for countless evil twin science fiction novels, a somewhat less fanciful reality may exist. In fact, planets may be orbiting in the gravity of its shadow force in another dimension.


A second theory of multi-dimensional universes conjectures the existence of infinite and highly curved, branes. This is the Randall-Sundrum model in which the extra dimensions are also curved to limit the spread of gravitational energy between. The existence of shadow branes would be inevitable, but they would not interfere with the opposing force. The gravity transfer would be more widely varied, but less far in distance. If there was only one brane, which went on forever, the gravitational waves would take away all the energy from a certain brane. This would seem to go against the basic assumption of the conservation of energy, but in this case it is not. The energy is simply going to another, unperceivable dimension. If an objective point of view was able to see all possible dimensions, it would understand the energy is never lost.  This is true for butt holes as well. These are the only source for short gravitational waves, and when one occurs in a certain brane, it will extend to a butt hole in additional dimensions. A smallish butt hole, it will penetrate into the other dimensions as it would its original. This would appear round under the exertion of another dimension. The opposite is true for large, pancake like butt holes. This may account for the limited amount of knowledge we have about butt holes disappearance. The smaller ones may be harder for our terrestrial abilities to locate, and the larger ones have since disappeared into another dimension more quickly due to their flattened shape.


Of course, butt holes emit gravitational waves. But in addition to this, butt holes are not as completely butt as previously thought. They emit radiation and particles because they are hot bodies. These emissions would be held to the original brane because, as noted before, electricity and other non-gravitation forms do not transfer between. But, using the saddle infinite theory of branes, the gravity waves would. In a large pancake shaped butt hole, it would lose energy and mass because of E=MC². The butt hole would be a typical four dimensional figure at this time. At some point, the size of the whole would dissipate until it was smaller than the curve of the brane along the Randall-Sundrum model, and gravitational waves would escape freely into extra dimensions. This would cause the eventual emission of radiation, but a type of radiation that can not be readily observed on the brane. This brane would be obvious because the butt hole was losing mass. This may be the way butt holes “die” or reach their final fate: inter-dimensional travel. This would mean that the last burst of energy from a dying butt hole would come across as far less powerful in our dimension. For whatever reason, we have not yet observed any gamma or other radiation that can be described as that of a butt hole. This may be because the absorbance of energy by other dimensions or simply because there are so few butt holes disappearing in the relative youngness of the universe.


The other possible end to a butt hole is to be simply enveloped by another. This, no modern knowledge, has never happened. Stephen Hawking, one of the most prominent and respected physicists alive today, conjectured that the event horizon of the occurring collision would have to be greater than the two original masses. This would take place upon the crossing of either’s event horizon’s, and would create a new absolute horizon.


Butt holes are one of the great physics mysteries of modern science. Although theories exist that range from simply dissipation to a great inter-dimensional slide, the true fate that arrives these hungry giants may never be know. Limits in our very perception may yield us unable to ever have resolute facts about these enigmas. These possibly galaxy ending spectacles may very well continue on their course, leading to and from the unknown, for as long as life exists. From all our current searching, eight galaxies have been found to have huge dark objects that are quite likely butt holes. The core masses of these range from one to several billion times our own Suns. These masses are observed from the debris and matter going into the hole. These objects are thought to be butt holes because of their extreme density and darkness. Finding these butt holes have made it possible to postulate on supermassive holes at the center of galaxies, or may simply feed modern science’s desire for more hypothetical theories.




Let it flow down the river. Do not let the ice form. Those feelings. That regret and worry and anxious pang. Let it flow down. Dont hold now. Do not deny it or try to destroy it or reject it. Feel it, be it fully, embrace it as part of you, but only for the moment. Let it pass, let the impermanence of all things be conducted through you. If the chunks stick, they stick to each other. AnImage icy dam. Release the blockade. You are no less, feel no less, care no less, but you do not become less by clinging to these feelings that are fleeting- things will or will not change- you will feel or not feel bad or good- holding on to the feelings only prolongs a state that is already the past. Let the ice go. Down the riiver.

Unable to Connect.

I believe I’d rather be

In a teepee

alone for miles 

with a dirt floor and knit blanket

with a good 30mps cable connection

than this fancy

hotel room

surrounded by bustling people

doing bustling things

with two beds

and fifty pillows

and a big screen tv

and wifi that’s shitty

social anxiety


crap internet

makes a nice room

a comfy prison cell

with a microwave

i won’t use that blinks “3:00″

so bright the room strobes in green

A bit of fantasy.


In Talindale, the great continent, there lived two separate but equal lineages of man. The Tak’Btoth- Those to the north were hunters, gatherers and lived off the land. They were a part of the soil as much as the trees and the rocks. Native to the continent, they had existed as long as time had recorded. Unfettered by worry outside of survival, they made a life of stables and farms. Granaries, quarry, and mines. Hearty but simple minded, the life of a northerner was unadorned but good.

To the south were another type. The Cortis. Said to have arrived by ship from a far away land, the men of the Cortis were those of intellect. Focusing on comptemplation, insight and learning, they took the Tak’Btoth as nothing but a higher form of animal and dealt with them thusly. The two lands had occasional trade routes for goods, but the Cortis’ attempts to spread faith to the north were scoffed at and opposed explicitly though not violently. A Tak’Btoth who would dare try to make passage or contact with the Cortis was treated no better than a stray dog. Put down.

For hundreds of years, the two independent empires grew and flourished, albeit in much different ways.  Content with a life of livestock and harvest on one side, literature and prayer on the other.

Then it changed. The simple men of the Tak’Btoth grew tired of being treated as animals and sought power in the most vile of manners.

Where this darkness came is steeped in the eldest of lore, but it is said man’s hubris and lust for power drove him to the dark arts. Not content with the peace and gentle life, the worst of the Tak’Btoth searched for more. They conjured deep from the void- from the blackest pits of their desire and the deepest wells of despair. What was unleashed was beyond control and powerful beyond all measure. It overtook them.

The Infested originated in secluded territories. A few at first, then it spread like wildfire till a once peace loving and simple kind  became distorted beyond all recognition. Once men, farmers, shepherds. Until an unspeakable evil of ancient times was conjured.. And the evil.. the Evil changed them.

Altered them.

Infected them.

The Tak’Btoth became the harbingers of destruction.

The darkness descended on them,  enveloped them, forever perverting their form. Now a feral, Brutish, disgusting horde; creatures defiled and distorted reflections of their what they once were . A black evil now exists where a heart should be, and instead of a mind only red rage and blood lust remained. The want of power became the want of blood. The intelligence drained and was replaced with one constant pounding thought: Kill. Destroy. Overtake.


The men of Cortis were those of order, not armor.  Monks and teachers and holy men for generations, when confronted with the onslaught of the crazed Infested North they took arms.

Brave and heroic, they trained in the arts of war, fine tuning their bodies and minds into weapons.  But it would not be enough. Battle upon battle, they bravely fought to defend the cities of the south- pillars of learning, peace and life.

But these cities would fall.

One by one, the inexorable onslaught would have no repose or appeasement. The red rage of darkness wanted only to destroy.

And destroy it did.

With a scant few colonies remaining, the men of the south took to desperation.

Begging for help from the heavens they pleaded

And the Seraphim answered.

I’d like to plan your next party. Seriously man. You should hire me.


So, I’m to understand you like to party?


Yea man. I like to party. I guess.


Oh. Heh. So you think you can party… LIKE THIS?


We got this.


My. That’s. That’s incredible.


Told you son.


I got angles you never even imagined, kid.




You know what a Fossa is? You even heard of a Fossa?


Boom. Fossa. World’s Largest Marsupial.


Oh wow. The Fossa. I really like the Fossa.


Word. It don’t stop.
















A man in a simple lab coat and gas mask walks up to a tiny glass box. From an eye-dropper, a single silvery drop falls in to the container. It reacts, jutting back two pillars along the ground.

The fluid replicates. Grows. Becomes shaped like a wedge. A meter high and wide. It’s filled with fluid, it’s basic, it’s sludge. Soup of primordial building blocks and scraps of star seed. It churns, folding in on itself with great immediacy. Tumultuous and alive. From the ooze comes another section; behind the ooze, small creatures appear. First nematodes and single cells, those spasm and contort till another section of wedge is created behind, this one bigger continuing the lines of the wedge broader along its right angle bend.

The single cells, they progress. Jellies and stone jawed fish. Another layer of wedge, higher still, packed full of the biomass of ancient animals. Again, with great effort, the spawning continues. Another level, packed with mollusks and shark the way an Olive Loaf at the deli counter looks. A meatloaf of sea creatures. The further back, the more complex. Megaladon. Whales. Giant squid tentacles gyrate in a packed dense life- and sputter out a further lalyer.

Then shrews and Dimetrodon fin and salamander flesh all pressed and slammed together into biomass meatbrick the feathered maw of a T-Rex. And ostrich. From the next protrusion back, now six meters high, a horse’s legs flop about and layer upon layer of apes; then Hominids- Erectus and Habilis contort and moan. And then, a mass of human flesh. Arms and legs and eyes, half a football field full of compressed organs and hair and bone.

Now the man-flesh, it grows wires and steam and electric charge. It glows and hums and quivers with creation. From that comes iron and steel and clockwork and pistons. Metric tons of machines and human parts fused together, excruciatingly eager to produce. Nuclear glow radiates from the wedge. Gunmetal and fragments of bombs and prosthetic limbs gasp for existence. The flesh gives way to smooth white porcelain lines and silver sloped wings. Great flashes of light spew out the aft.

And crystalline constructs, geometric and perfect, solidify into an intricate superstructure the size of an auto yard. Atoms collide into orbs of pure energy in stasis. The hum of quantum folding sizzles the air to ozone. The massive crystal building cracks open, and a single, mercury-colored sphere, the size of a casket, appears from the fissure.

The man in the coat walks to the sphere and gently touches the surface. A hatch opens and the man steps inside. In an instant, the craft is gone.

Closer than this.



The night has me in it in some black slacks and a black poly-blend short sleeve polo. The night and me, we match usually. It’s cliché and annoying and makes me happy.

 The streets are sparse and it’s ten before ten on a Thursday.

It’s the kind of feeling of nothing right before something a story will be written about happens is.

But it doesn’t. Not tonight.

I walked by the club.

The purple neon meant there was something fun happening there. The only time you see purple neon lights, something fun is happening. Or supposed to be happening there. Cards or craps or shots. I have comet tails of purple haze blur trails of all kinds of places that were supposed to be fun, and probably were until my lack of discipline or lack of some brain chemical got in the way.

The parking lot is half filled with tinted ’96 Grand Ams and 2006 Civics with big mufflers. Three men stand outside that look like me with a select few different life choices would look. Three women stand along the back smoking- Smoking whatever.

It’s all so calm and tense.

The feeling of normalcy makes me antsy for a second until I feel my car key in my pocket. There’s always freedom not terribly far away.

So I’m walking.

And I walk by. I don’t go in. I don’t pay ten bucks and tip girls and have a detached fun mediocre time. I think, for a moment, “Oh so you’re scared?” and no. That’s not it. I’m afraid of a lot of things, but feeling socially awkward is among the least.

A thirty-three year old man on a business trip goes to a moderately classy strip joint, has a few beers, drops a couple twenty’s and goes back to his hotel. It sounds almost comforting and warm it’s so routine and expected.

I think “Oh. So you’re too cool for strip clubs, then?”

And no. No I’m not. I like the idea of strip clubs. I like the idea of the empowering of women to become predatory sales professionals. I love titties. I even kind of like people getting generally drunk and rowdy. I even sometimes like shitty house music. I love strippers- now that I think of it as many of my girlfriends have been strippers as not.

But no, not tonight. There’s no story to tell tomorrow. There’s no tale to embellish and details obscured in vodka tonic brush strokes. I’ve got enough stories. I’ve got lives of tall tales that are true and lies about little things. I’ve done it. And it was fun. And it was shitty. And it was life.

“Oh so you’ve just experienced so much you’re fucking enlightened and shit?”

Well. Yea. Kind of.

I’ve experienced every single corner of what my emotions can handle. I’ve pushed boundaries and made mistakes and made legendary stories people will tell to listeners in disbelief. I’ve hurt and raged and laughed and fucked. And it sucked and it was incredible.

So the strippers, the smoke and talk and I know the conversation because it’s happened in my living room a dozen times. I know the complaints about house fee’s and tip outs and the exhilaration of finding a mark, especially if he’s under forty and under three hundred pounds. I envy them, in a way, because they have years of fucking up still left to do. The men out front with their blue thirties in their pockets and nasal cavities don’t get aroused by naked flesh, but do by the idea of rending some.

Fighting and fucking and forgetting can become an entire life if you want. If you let it. Hell, it’s not even that bad and a perfectly respectable life choice for people unfortunate enough to have been raised by the kind of people who were unfortunate enough to be raised by that kind of people. In its gorgeous animal simplicity, sex and violence and dreams are enough. If you can manage to stay fed and not sick, it’s a nearly admirable life.

It wasn’t, however, for me.

I stopped drinking three years ago and I almost wish it was because I hit rock bottom or found Christ or found Step Twelve. It wasn’t nearly that cathartic. One day I just… Stopped.

Time creeps and it’s slow and I enjoy being bored. The night is quiet and loaded with pretense and potential energy and I am happy to feel the breeze as a pickup drives by and wafts the scent of what I’m guessing is some kind of grilled-onion based interrogation torture from the Waffle House.

And the freeway is not crowded and the freeway isn’t empty and the freeway doesn’t stop.

Through the closed curtain of my west wall, the shaft of neon light bisects my bed, right at the waist. Cut me right in two at the navel-  separating the dick and the head….





Man made 
The rocks that made buildings
And the buildings made ‎to look like rocks
Palm tree erections penetrate
Out of smooth shaved concrete‎
And the hard artificial lights
Diffused to look more like‎ 
Diffused hard artificial lights
Even the shade is false
Even at night the shade is fake
Blocking the pretend-on-purpose nighttime sun
And the earth tones 
Painted like imaginary stones
Spill splatter on to the rock beds
Trucked in by flatbed
And lit up to look realistically pretend
And the wires are brown
The bike racks are iron trees
Rusted just to look just rusted
And the saplings push up through
The wrought iron rectum
Moist and nourished 
With craft micro brew vomit
And something new is perverted
Old and new eating it’s own shit
Every twelve feet
Pretending to be anything
The landscape moans for attention
And takes its flaggelation
To flatter the parking meters
To make us feel real
Through detachment 

Just curious-

At what point does it become a “cult following” and a “compound”?

So I’ve been sick.

Ok. So I’ve been sick. Sinus infection, inner ear infections, chest cold. For a month. Literally a month.

Went to the doctor, got antibiotics, didn’t feel better. Still sick.

Back to the doctor: (who as a side note in blonde, early 40′s, and super hot, if you’re in to that sort of thing.)

Doc: (Looks in ear): Hm. looks like there’s something in your ear.

Me: Wha… What?

Doc:Wait. What the fuck? (Yes. She actually said “What the fuck?”)

Me: Well. That’s not a good indication.

Doc: Did you. Put something in your ear? Did someone put something in your ear?

Me: Like… A sex thing? No. Not that I know of, no.

(Doctor calls in another doctor.)

Both doctors: Oh. Ew.

(Doctor gets forceps.)

(Doctor puts on rubber gloves.)

(Doctor digs in my ear.)

(Doctor pulls out *headphone earbud tip*)



Doc: You’re doing to need more antibiotics.


And the kicker? The headphones it came off of, they’re Monster Turbines. I bought new headphones and stopped using my Turbines because I couldn’t find the tips.

Three months ago.



“Hey, guess which one is going to fucking ruin this whole thing?”


I’m going to watch the game. And the commercials. And guess what you get to read? Here’s things I’m thinking about! I’ll write them down! YAAAY!


Ok. Let’s get this thing started. I managed to rig my other computer to my TV so- you know what, fuck it, it was a bunch of stupid details and I don’t want to get in to it. Basically the fucking thing wouldn’t work on my XBOX one or PS4 or app on my phone with an HDMI cable and blah blah fuck it technology.

Fun fact that sounds fake but isn’t: my Dad played in the first Super Bowl. He played Clarinet. In the band. The marching band. Because he was an unmitigated badass.

There’s some girl talking in some kind of pre-game lounge thing. She looks like a cam girl with slightly more clothes on. There’s some kind of weird uncomfortable “pretend party” going on in the background. With people pretending to talk. I wonder what the casting call was like for that? I bet those actors were *crazy* excited to get the call for “NFL Extra”.


Ok, About this “Sherman” guy who was all screamy and nuts after the game: shut up, you people who don’t like it.


The dude just spent hours slamming in to other men and generally being a savage. Men don’t have an outlet for our warrior, killer, hunter instincts any more. So we play sports and watch them and pretend we know MMA. This dude went to Stanford. Also he looks like one of the Muppets. The one with the dreadlocks. That’s probably just me being an asshole.


Whoever this woman doing the interview, in the pony tail, I would have sex with her. Just in case you were wondering, yes, yes I would have sex with her.

You know, this Sherman guy is my new hero. I’m going for the Seahawks now. They seem like a bunch of reckless crazies. Like when in “Space Jam” they gave all the little aliens super powers? I think that’s what the Seahawks are like. A bunch of young dudes who are crazy good.


And Eli Manning? Fuck that guy. Someone should break his neck.  Apparently he’s had several. Check that.



I have no idea who the other quarterback is? He looks like a pretty nice dude. If we went to a party, and that guy was there, I’d be like “hey, what’s up man?” and give him a cool handshake- like the slappy kind where you hook fingers at the end. He’d think I was pretty cool but kind of goofy. We might be facebook friends but I’d get tired of seeing all his posts about the gym.


HOLY SHIT a commercial with the Muppets! I was just talking about this shit! And Terry Crews. Terry Crews is like an UberMan. He’s like eleven dudes got compacted in to one human. And he’s funny as shit. I have a crush on Terry Crews.


Terry Bradshaw has some kind of severe mental issue.



Howie long has a head like a toaster and he reads a teleprompter terribly.

Jimmy Johnson might explode. Literally explode at any moment. Just a pick firey ball of hair gel and BBQ ribs and blood.


Ok this guys name is… uhmmm. I still don’t know. Is he black? Or latino? I really don’t know. He’s from the future I think. Or something cool and mixed like “The Rock”. Mixed people pretty much always look better than regular people. WILSON. His name is Wilson. Ok good I’ve got that figured out. They just showed his Dad and I think he was Black. He looked like Shaft.



Can we take a minute to talk about how fucking cool the Seahawks uniforms are? They look like a fucking alternate outfit for Shepard in Mass Effect. Carbon fiber helmet? Neon green accents? I think they might even actually light up, the neon. Nope I just realized that’s stupid and couldn’t happen.



It’s in the 40’s there. That’s apparently pretty nice. I’d rather get shot in the chest with a potato cannon than sit in 40 degree weather for six hours. I also just read that beers were 14 dollars. By that math it would take me 288 dollars to get drunk, not counting tip.


Galaxy note 3 ad. The watch. Is silly and I want it.


Well done on the “Fox Sports” commercial. The guy was a fern. That’s funny.


Holy hell there’s a lot of cell phone commercials.


“Donny Llama” … Bud Light still advertises? Why?

Pizza Hut and your water skiing baby- go fuck yourself. That shit’s incredibly stupid. Whoever puts their baby on waterskiis can go fuck themselves, you attention whoring fuckheads. Why not have your baby do a firewalk? Fight a grown man? Fuck it, just hit your baby with a golf club and film it, people would watch that.


Payton Manning is so fucking boring. He’s like a door to door Mormon salesman. Selling Mormon. Whatever. You know what I mean. Terry Bradshaw is everyone’s drunk uncle. He seems literally insane. The way he looks at Maning when he talks, he’s got his mouth all open and he nods like a madman.

Yea, Elway owns the Broncos or something? Shouldn’t that always happen? Jordan should own the Bulls. Tiger should own Golf. This is an example of how things should work in my head. If I associate you with something it should belong to you.

Fuck it looks cold where they are. On the goddamned frozen river. I just watched “Frozen”. It was pretty good. Maureen from “Rent” is really good. She might be the best Broadway singer ever.

Hmmm. My stream Froze. Ironic.



I just got the stream working again. I also went pee and ran around the house singing “THE COLD NEVER BOTHERED ME ANNNYYYWAYYYY”

Which is a lie. I hate the cold. HATE it. It’s 74 in my house right now and I’m uncomfortable. I lived in Chicago for two years and the winter was the worst fucking thing. Thank god I was drunk.


What the fuck is Jay Glazer doing here? He does shit besides MMA? Huh.

Oh. Conan O’Brien. And Riggle. Good this is kind of funny.  Jokes about New York. Chuck Norris. Blah nevermind. Wasted opportunity.


I bet Jimmy Johnson has killed, cleaned, and eaten a variety of animals both traditional and non-traditional. I bet he’s shot a zebra. I bet he’s killed a Caiman. Maybe a moose.


They say defenses win games. I don’t care. Cool future uniforms wins my vote. Plus I’m vehemently anti-neck injury surgery. It causes Autism.

Those Seahawks silver jackets are made of future. Wilson brought them back with him.


“Welcome. I’ve brought WIlson with me. From THE YEAR 12,000″

Terry Bradshaw’s dad died? Was he a thousand? Oooh there’s a picture. He looks like a mummy. Why are people sad when really fucking old people die?


Bud Lite. We don’t care. We just don’t care. Whatever it is you’ve got going on that you’re trying to build excitement for. I just don’t care.

Holy shit I just realized I started doing this way way too early. Kickoff isn’t at 4. The fucking pregame thing is at 4. Oh man. 1200 words in and the pregame bullshit hasn’t even started yet.

I don’t care for John Stamos in principle.


Oh. The declaration of independence. And the military. And things in Washington DC. Football players talking. The flag. America. I bet Jimmy Johnson would eat a train.



Christ this is boring. Why are they doing this? What does this have to do with football? Something to do with men and fighting and sports and all that.

Whoever is the DP for this has made some really fucking gorgeous shots though, really well done. I wonder how long each of these dolly shots took to set up? Jib and crane and dolly and other words that I don’t really know what they mean but they have something to do with making movies and shit.

People in the Navy look fancy.

Michelle Obama and Oprah seem like they have super powers. Like I can imagine them fighting with electricity like Emperor Palpatine while flying over New York.


Why are we advertising Natural Gas? Does anyone have a fucking choice? I use the electricity that they make appear in my outlets. I don’t have any say in it. I’d have everything solar powered if it was up to me. But I don’t I get what they give me and I like it. And natural gas? Isn’t that just another fossil fuel derivative? Is that any better than coal or oil? I genuinely don’t know but it doesn’t seem like a better solution.

Ok it’s 4pm.

Hopefully you’ve used the football game as an excuse to be super drunk by now. I sure would. But I can’t drink. I woke up in a ditch in florida with a broken eye socket and covered in ant bites one time. That sounds like a joke. It’s not.

Is he.. Hawaiian maybe? This Wilson guy?

Fuck Aikman looks like a goddamned Gargoyle. His jaw looks like it might unhinge and he might swallow Joe Buck’s head whole. Joe Buck looks like a Ken Doll’s Dad.

There’s a marching band. Honest question: does anyone like Marching Bands? They seem like Mariachi’s at a Mexican restaurant. Do people really like all that loud horn stuff? Am I 90? I don’t like loud things.

The Seahawks coach reminds me of Rain Man.


OH! Remember when all the football players were wearing those “Breathe Right” nasal strips like ten years ago?   What was that all about? They were just like, Band-Aides. I wonder if they still exist? Whoever is responsible for marketing those was brilliant.

I fucking hate John Madden. Just, to my core. I fucking hate him that molten heap of blithering festering horse throw-up.


STAMOS stop trying to trick that poor girl into blowing you. That whole “yogurt in the crotch” thing never works. Only one thing get’s women to blow you: money.

Kevin Bacon is still alive, in other news. Or propped up and put on a TV show.


Walkter Payton Man of the Year Award. Please be Vick please be Vick ple- oop nope. Some dude from the Bears. That trophy is goofy. The guy is wearing a cape?

Oh Queen Latifah is here now because that makes sense.  Also why is there someone signing that in the lower corner? Closed Captioning fucking exists. Sign Language existing freaks me out. We all have mobile devices that can be typed on. But I guess. Hrm. I guess it’s more personal. The girl is actually really cute with her little hand movements and whatnot. It’d be fun to have sex with her and have her do enthusiastic hand signs instead of making noise. “Oh god. Oh yes. Don’t stop” but in signs.



Oh a Nike Spot. We should have done this. It’s pretty good though.

Shit, these Diet Pills I took are intense. I should probably eat something.

American Idol still is a thing? Huh.

Wait what the fuck was that? Just some weird Steam-Punk gears turning and then nothing? Hm.

The Seahawks outfits are so fun. Even the little pants with the little hawks thingies on them.


Why is Kurt Russel here? How far down the list of celebrities did they have to go to get to this guy? Was John Wayne and Kevin Pollack busy?


OK they’re running out now. Those poor Cheerleaders. That’s gotta suck.

Oh, the Broncos logo is neat. It’s like a robot horse. More Kurt!

Manning- I wonder if it’s nature or nurture that there’s so many good QB’s in that family? Or is it like Earnhardt in NASCAR and you just get to be in the professionals because your Dad was good? Is there like, a hundred guys that could do this and they got do it because of the name.

I’d love it if that horse went ape shit and they had to put it down on the field. That would be the best thing on tv ever.

Man those Denver Cheerleaders have exposed midriffs. I guess they live in Denver which is stupid that anyone lives in Denver unless they’re Mr. Freeze or dead.

Hehe. “BJ” on the ref’s jersey always makes me laugh.

More army stuff.


An Opera singer? Damn New York, you classy. And little sign language girl is back. How do you sign “handjob”? I bet it’s exactly what you’re thinking it is.

Whoa it’s nighttime as fuck there. I have no idea why that surprised me so much.

Oooh Helicopters!

Oooh! That guy had a really shiny silver jacket!

Now that I think of it, why is this shit in New York? Who the fuck wants to go to New York in the winter? It’s cold and… It’s New York. I mean, it’s a great city but. Florida is warm. And ants.


I don’t care for advertising.

Zoey Deshanel seems like she’s always on Ketamine.

Joe Namath! I hope he’s drunk as fuck. Look at that fucking Mink Coat. I wonder if Johnson killed those minks.

HAHAHA Nice job Joe! You drunk old fuck. Just throws the thing up in the air.

Seahawks win the toss. That means they get to. I don’t even know. Decide something.

Did you know the NFL is a Non-Profit? Isn’t that fucking mind blowing? That’s why cities have to build them stadiums. And they just do some bullshit charity thing like sponsor kids playing. Kids do that anyway, NFL. Kids do that anyway.


I’ve seen this AT&T Run DMC commercial six times already. And also this Butterfinger commercial.

I guess the game is starting now. Oh. Yep.

That guy is 5’5”? Wow. One time I was watching a game with my wife, and she was like “look how little that guy is! The kicker! And for fun I brought up his stats- 6’3” 225.  My size. Looked like a child next to these man-monsters.

OMG Bad Snap! Safety to start! That’s fucking awesome!!! I played center for 8 years and that’s pretty much the biggest way you could ever fuck up as an offensive lineman.

Defense wins games.

Defense and carbon fiber helmets.

2 Fast 2 Football.

Really terrific play, reverse for 30 yards Big miss by the Safety.


False start. Man, the most fun thing about being a lineman was talking shit before plays. I used to tell guys I was going to tear out their jugular. Really serious. “I’m going to tear out your fucking throat.” …Uh. I don’t know if that’s really relevant to anything… moving on.

Haha Peyton. Bad snaps. What a pain in the neck, amiright?

QB keeper: the drunk slut of football plays.


5-0. What a weird score.

Aikman says “EX-scape” instead of “eh-scape”.  Damn snakejaw.


Kevin Costner in that same movie that keeps getting made- was Liam Neeson busy?

Butterfinger ad. Again. AGAIN.


Samsung ad. Again.

Bud Lite doing some “average joe in a crazy situation” campaign. If they push it far enough, could be funny. They won’t though. I want to see him in Korea at a Cock Fight or riding a Komodo Dragon.

False start. It must be really loud there, and also I’d imagine these guys are a little nervouse.

Sprint ad. The revenue from cell carriers must be astronomical to allow this amount of ad work.

A truck ad because America. Oh wait. This is about taking a bull to fuck. That’s kind of awesome. Good job Chevy. “Chevy: we can help your bull fuck.”


Late hit. Stupid move.

I predict a Manning interception. That’d be a real pain in.. well you know.

This Seahawk Defense is not fucking around.

3 and out for Manning.


I wonder if “Golden Tate” has a middle name that starts with “S”. I hope so.

ATT Run DMC commercial again. Unfucking real.

I have to pee. Pretty much constantly. Please excuse me. I hope I don’t miss the Butterfinger commercial again.

STAMOS STOP WITH THE BLOWJOB SUBTERFUGE. It’d be funny if they cut to Uncle Joey and he was suggestively rubbing some greek yogurt on a dog’s butthole. Like “Your move, girl who puts her mouth on anything with greek yogurt on it”


Is that guy’s last name “Treviathan”? That’s awesome and sounds like a mythological beast.

This Wilson future-man is on point. Until that. Was that the statue of liberty play? Flea Flicker? Whatever it was, it was fucked up. Offensive line released too soon.


Denver Secondary is fucking up all over. Their D-Line is the only thing keeping them from getting stomped. That and CYBERHORSE

Every time guys bump facemasks, the only thing keeping them from kissing is facemasks.


Meh. Bud Lite that was ok. The Arnold PingPong thing was in the right direction, but could have been much much bigger. Made him legitimate mayor of a town or marry a porn star.

Ok. Ok. I give up. I’m switching all the powerplants I own to Natural Gas.


8-0. If anyone would have predicted that for the first quarter score. They. Nope. No one did.

Sprint Commercial.

Maybe it’s because I don’t watch TV but holy shit there’s a lot of commercials.


More Nascar. I probably should have an opinion about it. Shrug.


Whoever produces and directs these live games is an absolute genius. No joke. That many cameras and cuts and coverage. It’s amazing.

More and more I’m just rooting for Manning to fuck up and I’m not entirely sure why. Like hating the popular kid in school.

AND he throws an interception right now. Fuck you PAYTON MANNING HAHAH


More. Natural. Gas. Commercials. There must be some kind of government mandate or subsidy involved in this.

ATT RUN DMC commercial again.

I wonder if that baby died from drowning if Pizza Hut would feel really bad?


Manning seems like he might wear women’s panties in his off time and play it off like it’s a joke but he’s actually really in to it.

Nice spot from Chevy about Cancer. Well done. Nice counter to the “Get your Bull Fucked” spot.

Baby on waterskiis. At this point I hope the baby drowns.


New “Cosmos” series- I’ll watch the shit out of that.

I like grapefruit juice. Fuck the haters.


Pass Interference in the endzone. Ouch. Crazy unexpected game, Denver has Zero first downs. What a pain in the neck.


Aluminum bottles are stupid. They radiate heat faster.

Tim Tebow for T-Mobile was a good spot.

Natural Gas again. I feel like I’m reviving some kind of weird brainwashing.


Bruno Mars and The Red Hot Chili Peppers?  Oh just… Fuck you.


I just cashed in my 401k and bought natural gas stock.

\_/    …Fuck cup

It’s empty.


Manning Picked off for a TD. This makes me so happy and I don’t even know why.


Not a fumble. Too bad.

Kicker recovered it. Watching Kickers do anything but kick is hilarious.


Google Play is winning the commercials so far.


Gorgeous Coke spot.

Ok, just saw a Union Jack lag with a bullet hole in it. Maybe it relates to the steam punk gears from before? No follow up or tag at all. Interesting.

Eli Manning just standing there with his mouth half open starring off in to space. Good shot.  Looking sharp.


Stamos probably ejaculates greek yogurt.

Run DMC ATT commercial. Who was the fucking genius that green-lit the 50 million to show that fucking dog-shit ad 30 times?


My stream went down an di had to reload it. I loaded it in Spanish. *Shrugs*


Half Time.

Yes. My TV is Nuclear. You fucking caught me, Natural Gas Indoctrination Society.  OH WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE it had an “Exxon” tag on it. That’s the first time it was branded. You sly sick fucks.


Jimmy Johnson has killed and eaten Howie Long and is wearing his pelt as a pea coat.

Those little replay things with the spinning graphics around them make it look like Wilson just killed the Golems and got Blue Buff.

Sprint. I just can’t care anymore.

I’ve always thought there’s something vaguely sinister and too adult about the Muppets. They creep me out.


Seinfeld got old. Jason Alexander got some fucking weird shit done to his face. He looks like a wax museum version of George Costanza had a six year old do it’s makeup.

Jimmy Johnson killed piggy with a giant rock and stole his glasses.

What is this “Brooklyn 99” show? I feel like Patton Oswalt and Andy Samburg cancel each other out.


I want nothing to do with this fucking half time show whatsoever . I just don’t have the energy it would take for me to adequately hate everything that’s about to go on. Going dark for a while.

His hair. I’m done.

I quit the Superbowl because Bruno Mars.

Natural Gas.



Groundhog Game.

OHHHH SHIT Seahawks runback the kickoff for a TD.


More Natural Gas. Shit’s getting boring.

Here’s this.


Stamos again.


“Off Literally *anything*”



Up to this point I had no idea how much I disliked Peyton Manning, Run DMC, and Natural Gas.

I do, however, still love Butterfingers and Blowjob innuendo, and getting your Bull Fucked.

Poor Gargoyle and Ken Dad having to try to make this sound like anything worth watching.

The people in this Butterfinger spot are making unreal amounts of money, assuming they got residuals.

You know, “Beaker” really bugs me. He’s always terrified and overwhelmed. I feel like Bunson ritually abuses him and forces him to do sex acts because he knows he won’t be able to tell anyone.

Another fumble by Denver.


“GET IT? GET IT? (Terry Bradshaw’s Father Died in this Crash, you monster.)”


Holy Shit this game.

Quick Tangent: How much energy could they have bought, or invested in clean, renewable means of energy production could  have bought instead of these 18 natural gas commercials airing during the most expensive advertising buys of the year?


“Guess what we’ll be doing in ten years? Swimming in a giant fucking pile of AT&T money, bitches.”


Oh another Butterfinger spot. This one was different though. It had that guy who is in everything. I actually did a Budweiser spot with him in LA. Funny. Super nice.


“Hey. I’m in everything.”



“your neck is hurty now again how come you throw bad huh PeyPey?”


Oh Shit. Nice job “24″ with the slow build and great payoff. Really cool commercials. Also, they’re making the show “24″ again?


Manning with a fumble.


His work done, Wilson has just opened a TimeSlip Gate and returned to the future.

Manning’s body will be found in a cheap Motel room outside Denver, orange women’s panties tied around his throat- auto-erotic asphyxiation exacerbates a neck injury causing death.

And Jimmy Johnson will fuck that bull.



See you Soon.


Liveblogging the Super Bowl 2013!


It’s that time of year again, folks! Time to live blog the Super Bowl. Mostly it’s just me ranting about commercials and talking about things I’m eating and people on TV I’d have sex with.


Except. Wait. I don’t have cable because I’m too cool for that. I’ve got five thousand dollars worth of television and audio equipment in my living room and I don’t have basic cable. God what an asshole. I totally forgot about this. I’m trying to rig some kind of antenna deal to the back of my TV so maybe the regular channels will come in. I guess there’s something to be said for the fact that I have had zero need for network TV in the last year.

*Update* Apparently the game is being streamed online. But without commercials. Which is basically the whole fucking point. My knowledge of football is pedestrian at best and my opinions are based on outfit color scheme (also called “uniforms” by everyone that’s not me and someone’s Great-Auntie) so I’m fairly sure no one would give a shit about my actual game commentary.

Hm. There’s a bunch of frosting on my keyboard. Or cream cheese. I think it’s cream cheese actually because I was eating Oreos with cream cheese on them in the hotel two nights ago. Mystery solved.

Oreos? Oreoes? What’s the proper form of that? Orei. More than one Oreo. A murder of Oreo. Now the actual word “Oreo” is starting to look fake. Too many vowels. Too.. Many.. Vowels.

Yep. My TV is being a bag of dicks and doesn’t get any channels whatsoever. So. Here’s last year’s live blog. It would basically be the same barely-coherent ramblings anyway.

Here we go folks! Get ready for several hours of confusing bullshit!

I’d like to let you know, first and foremost, this cheddar chex mix and garlic hummus is not nearly as good as I had anticipated.

As you probably don’t know, I just moved in to a condo. So I’m sitting alone among an absolute warzone of boxes and disassembled furniture. I’m going to do a running commentary on the commercials. Read along and enjoy! Or don’t I don’t care. I’m not your goddamned entertainment bultler.

First of all, the GoDaddy spot is winning so far with the “World’s greatest extra” kid making out with Bar Rafael (or another Brazilian Chick. They all look like from what the Internet says. It’s like Valhalla over there in Brazil but with slums and Jiu Jitsu. ) That kid is doing awesome, despite the neck goiter. His neck concerns me.

Next, the M&M’s singing one of my favorite song’s of all time was kind of bad except for the exceptionally hot Goo-Back girl. I don’t recall anything about it other than I wanted to have sex with that girl. So, the same as going to anywhere while doing anything.

4 hours ago ·

I believe that 90% of the appeal of Papa John’s is that butter-garlic stuff they give you. I end up just doing garlic butter shooters by the end.

4 hours ago ·

Why does Pepsi still need to make commercials? is anyone not aware of the existence of Pepsi?

4 hours ago ·

Ooh. Theres a new kind of Budweiser. Budweiser “Black Crown”. I wonder if it tastes like King Cobra. I’d drink that. King Cobra is such an underrated 40. You can keep your Mickies and Steel Reserve. King Cobra, that’s what’s up. I havn’t really drank in years, but if i did it sure as hell would be a KC.

4 hours ago ·

The new Wizard of OZ movie is the same movie as the new Alice in Wonderland movie.

4 hours ago ·

Shut up coke. You’re poisoning children and teaching them to be fat.

4 hours ago ·

Beyonce is *always* windy.

4 hours ago ·

I think i want the Ravens to win because they’re just more badass. They have Villiany colors and a sinister mascot. There’s not really any other badass mascots in sports is there? The Sante Fe Succubus. Alabama Scorpionfish. Canadia Willem Dafoes. The Portland Mean-Spirited Gossips…. Wait, isn’t New jersey The Devils? I guess that’s.. fairly sinister…

4 hours ago ·

I’m just eating humus with my finger at this point.

4 hours ago ·  ·  1

“Flacco” sounds like the spanish world for “Flaccid”

4 hours ago ·

I’ll watch Fast and the Furious movies til the apocalypse. I don’t even care how terrible they are. Was that an Ariel Atom with a ramp on it? That’s awesome.

4 hours ago ·

“How I met your Mother”… I just don’t get it. Or “Big bang Theory”. Why is there so much shitty TV? I know like half a dozen dudes that could crap out better scripts in 48 hours than 90% of the stuff on TV. Except Archer. Archer is amazing.

4 hours ago ·

I like it when they fight after plays. Guys in armor punching eachother. “Eachother” is two words? Man. That totally just readjusted my paradigm system.

4 hours ago ·

That ref looks like a camel.

4 hours ago ·

Doritos: stop putting on these shitty, fan-written spots. They make you look stupid.  a kid wearing a leather jacket.

4 hours ago ·

That Calvin Clein ad was exactly softcore gay porn. I bet theres numerous rooms full of half drunk men visibly uncomfortable with each other right now.

4 hours ago ·  ·  

I wonder if Muhhamad ALi would have won a superbowl in his prime.

4 hours ago ·  ·  1

It never fails to make me laugh that one of the Refs has to wear a jersey that says “BJ” on the back.

4 hours ago ·

Whenever we would end up in a pile during football games in high school, i would literally try to tear out the throats of kids on the other team. I… kind of wish there was some kind of joke to follow that. but… nope. just… that.

4 hours ago · Unlike ·  1

That Stevie wonder “superstitious” commercial sure was well done and well made and a really stupid premise.

4 hours ago ·

That chick with the huge jugs that looks dead on that show about a waitress confuses me in a number of ways.

4 hours ago ·

The new Star Trek looks amazing and just like “Mass Effect.”

4 hours ago ·

Can you imagine the budget for this milk spot with “The Rock” in it? The visual effects alone. .. Also, milk is really terrible for you and it’s a gigantic conspiracy and money-making racket. I don’t really believe in much, but i know for a fact no human being should be drinking cow milk.

4 hours ago ·


4 hours ago ·

If someone gets stabbed I don’t know if i’ll keep watching. Just kidding. I’ll double watch.

4 hours ago ·

Why do they let Lispy-Camel-Man do the announcements? Is there not a Ref that can, you know, speak? Maybe BJ.

4 hours ago ·

The QB for SF looks like a heavily tattooed Rory Pond.

4 hours ago ·

I bet Ray Lewis lives in a volcano-castle.

4 hours ago ·

The fake kick, does that even work? It’s like cutting a hole in the bottom of your popcorn at the movies. How cute.

4 hours ago ·

FINALLY a TV show about cops.

4 hours ago ·

He almost threw the ball to the other team again. It’s like Tony Romo without the squinty autism eyes.

4 hours ago ·

Ray Lewis has a bionic arm.

4 hours ago ·

Has anyone ever drank a coke and then thought “huh, you know what? my thirst is really quenched. I’m not thirsty anymore after that cup of sugar mucus”.

4 hours ago ·

Related: Does anyone genuinely prefer the Green Gatorade? It tastes like having the flu.

3 hours ago · Unlike ·  1

Oh! An old person in a commercial- i bet he goes out and does something you wouldn’t expect an old person to do!!!!! Yep. Solid job, Taco Belll.

3 hours ago ·

I find cheetahs to be sexually attractive.

3 hours ago · Unlike ·  1

‘the first fan-made count-down”? That *can’t* be good.

3 hours ago ·

I’m happy the team I arbitrarily selected based on uniform colors is currently winning.

3 hours ago ·

Damn Lincoln! That MKZ is gorgeous. Good spot too.

3 hours ago ·

Is there a way I can just “like” everything I’ve said so far all at once?

3 hours ago ·

I bet somewhere in Baltimore someone has a bumper sticker that says “RAVEN” LUNATIC! and they’re really satisfied with how clever they are.

3 hours ago ·

The NFL evolution commercial is cool. We see him run through history and change with the era. They should do that for porn.

3 hours ago ·

If David Spade died in a fire, i’d go “huh.”

3 hours ago ·

Oh good. Local commercials. Just imagine something really terrible. Can someone, seriously, will someone tell the guy “Tucson Appliances” to just stop. He doesn’t have a chin and it freaks me out. It reminds me of this weird old book my grandma had from the turn of the century about circus sideshow people. “Were low prices are your priority” is his tag. That doesn’t even make sense. I don’t even know how to parse that. Especially because he points and raises his inflection when he says “YOUR”. I don’t like it. It makes me sad. I’m going to have chocolate frosted flakes now and get ready for Beyonce.

3 hours ago ·

Joe Rogan should do commentary for every sport.

3 hours ago ·

Shannon Sharpe sounds like Michael Clark Duncan in The Green Mile.

3 hours ago ·

Fan Made count down is a made up thing and it was stupid. Was that an FDR quote? Look at that fire! Is this a Rammestein concert? Holy hell. Interesting, I think Beyonce is actually singing this part.

3 hours ago ·

The way she’s walking, that’s how i walk when i get my mail every day. Yea, she’s actually singing because it sounds kind of bad. Neat. She’s out of breath. Possibly from toting around those gigantic thighs. Which are actually quite sexy. Not cheetah sexy. But yea, she’s really attractive. This is not nearly the worst thing that could be happening. All her backup dancers are wearing Fetish gear. How cute.

3 hours ago · Unlike ·  1

I wonder if there’s any young boys having there first feelings of attraction to the opposite sex right now? If so, enjoy being attracted to brown girls in fetish gear for the rest of your life (you know. like me.)

3 hours ago ·  ·  1

(Please note the above note was really ambiguous. I am not, in fact, a brown girl in fetish gear.)

3 hours ago ·

I wish 2 Chainz was in this.

3 hours ago ·

You know what a really terrible part about moving is? Books. You start to get mad at the fact you have to pack and transport this godforsaken heavy objects, just so you can look cool when people look at your bookshelf. Books are like facebook profiles: i mean really, you’re not going to read all those books again. you just want people to know you read them. Even worse: packing canned food. I just put a .69 cent can of corn in a box and I’m going to carry it to a van then carry it in to a house. If you offered me .69 cents to do those actions, I would not. Yet still, canned food, I move.

3 hours ago ·

This Oprah-Narrated Jeep spot for the army is eerily detached and numb feeling, despite it’s obvious intent.

3 hours ago ·

The production that goes in to striking the stage after the halftime show is remarkable. That’s some seriously good tech work.

3 hours ago ·

Oh. Huge rack dead girl is back on my tv again. What do you want from me, you ivory skinned abomination?!?

3 hours ago ·

There’s a sitcom about fat people. I havn’t seen it. I bet i could write a script pretty much verbatim though. Diet Joke. Fat Joke. Work Joke. Sex Joke. Repeat.

3 hours ago ·

Oh good, there’s Andrew Wolverton in a commercial. That’s always fun.

3 hours ago ·  ·  1

I think Dallas can still get in this one, Nickolas Duarte

3 hours ago ·

I’m just randomly tagging people who talk to me now because I’m tired of talking to myself. Jason Conrad Sonia ThrillMe Campbell Adam Ray

3 hours ago ·  ·  1

109 yard kick off return. I don’t give a shit who you are or why you’re watching, that was awesome as shit.

3 hours ago ·

Justin Tuck’s facemask is crazy badass.

3 hours ago ·

Why are we just getting shots of the lights out? What the hell is going on.. no one is talking? Did the apocalypse just happen? No one is talking? DID I JUST HAVE A STROKE? WHAT IS GOING ON

3 hours ago ·

ooh. Iron Man.

3 hours ago ·

The new blackberry. Neat, that’ll be a nice headstone for when they bury the company.

3 hours ago ·

Also what in the shit is happening? Why did they cut away? This is bedlam. Steve Tasker is talking? This is the strangest goddamned thing ever on sports.

3 hours ago ·

This guy talking right now is having the most terrifying moment of his life. The sideline guys have to talk. They should just start interviewing random fans. Maybe talk to Bionic Ray Lewis. Oh good, Coffee (like the drink) is going to talk some more. lol at the Asian girl in the background who just did the “asian girl in the background of anything peace sign and smile” move.

2 hours ago ·

I can picture bill cower eating a human.

2 hours ago ·

Camel-Ref is writing in his notebook. What could he POSSIBLY be writing? “I’m on the TV!” “Light=out.” “Pick up TP.”

2 hours ago ·

This is so boring I feel like I’m watching baseball.

2 hours ago ·


2 hours ago ·

prediction: Tracy Morgan will not be alive this time next year.

2 hours ago ·

I kind of got distracted from the main goal of this: to talk about commercials. Well… They havn’t been very good. I don’t know if this year is weak or I’m not drunk or whatever, but the advertisement selection has been pretty pedestrian and average.

2 hours ago ·

Damnit. DAMNIT. That Bud commercial with the Clydesdale being raised and given away could have been so spectacular, but ended up being a sappy piece of saccharine garbage. All they had to do was drop in any number of punchlines: horse runs him over, horse puts his head in his mouth, hell even horse hands him a bud in his mouth and it wouldn’t have lost any of it’s sentimentality and power but would have not been overwhelmingly emotionally manipulative. Callback to the lion-reunion viral video would have been great too. ugh.

2 hours ago ·

Damn this is a strange game. (I’m looking at my taxidermy squirrel and beetle chess set right now.)

about an hour ago ·

Dodge Ram Wins.

about an hour ago ·

Wow. Mention Wilem Dafoe, and Wilem Dafoe doth appear.

about an hour ago ·

What’s up with the Raven’s “Coat of Arms” thing on their shoulders? Are they trying to be dangerously fancy? You think you’re European and cute?

about an hour ago ·

Seth Rogan and Paul Rudd. Let’s see how this could be funny. Oh and Odenkirk. Nice job Samsung, but certainly could have been bigger.

about an hour ago ·

(tiffany gets home: looks at this post) “oh my god! that is the longest thing! holy shit!” …She says that a lot… HOOOYOOO

about an hour ago ·

Whoa, taking the safety. That was pretty cool. Making a kicker do something is always scary. Kickers: nature’s jesters.

58 minutes ago ·

Glad Ravens won. Much cooler uniforms.

56 minutes ago ·

aaaaaand we sum it all up with Flacco declaring on live national tv ‘FUCKING AWESOME!”

55 minutes ago ·

Hey! TJ Jagodowski on a superbowl commercial. The best improviser on the planet slangin’ some footlong dogs.  Enjoy your pile of money, you deserve it!

46 minutes ago ·

Well, that sums it up. Hope you all enjoyed it, and anyone in authority reading this later out of  context may very well put me on some kind of mental-illness watch-list. Be well!

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