Too Many Weeks

I,m looking up stuff about vasectomies right now. I have wanted to get myself a big gift for a while and I figure that this would be the best gift of all - the ability to smash guilt-free home runs into some poor girl's womb. It would also be a gift for any drugged out girl that accidentally had sex with me. I,m sure no sane person would ever want to be stuck with raising anything that sprung from my loins. I know I wouldn,t. I was reading that some doctors make it difficult for people my age to get the procedure done because they think I would regret it. What a bunch of fools. I would be doing them a favor by having it done. Not only would I be handing them over a big fat bag of one hundred dollar bills, I would be saving them the trouble of

1. Performing an abortion at some later date

2. Having to deliver a ghoul-child

3. Looking at my weird body on an operating table after a failed suicide attempt

4. Looking at some horrible girl's weird body on an operating table after a failed murder attempt

It would be way easier for me if they just let me clip the old wiener wires while I,ve got a few extra dollars sitting around. There is nothing else I would rather spend my tax return on. That,s how Uncle Sam would want things too.

You have to go to at least one counseling session to make sure that you are not out of your mind. I think the key is to tell them how selfish you think having kids is when there are so many colored babies rotting away in urban orphanages. That will probably be the card that I play. I will study up on the role of guy-that-really-likes-to-adopt-stuff. I,ll tell them that I have a bunch of turtles that I adopted. Turtles are probably the closest analogue to babies. What am I thinking? That is so far from the truth. I should say that I have adopted a bunch of autistic diarrhea apes that can,t stop screaming and vomiting because of some weird condition with their voice box. Voice box seems like a pretty archaic term. The doctor might not like that. It,s called a larynx. That will show them that I mean business about the whole thing.

Land Of Talk - Some Are Lakes
You,re supposed to wait twelve weeks or twenty squirts before you blast in a girl without her needing to eat weird hormone pills. Is that the normal rate of sex and/or masturbation for guys? I should probably be embarrassed. Whatever, I,ve got nothing else to do.

I haven,t jerked off at work. I was talking to a friend of mine and I guess it,s weird that I haven,t. A lot of people do it. It probably has to do with the fact that I don,t like my wiener so I don,t want to give it the satisfaction of seeing any new places. The dark, smelly confines of my stained, unwashed underwear is exactly where it deserves to be. It,s clean though. I mean, it doesn,t have any diseases that I know about. Not having sex keeps it that way but every once in a blue moon I meet some girl with really bad judgment or a big charitable heart and she blacks out so I can get to know her a little better. Luckily, I can get the little gnarled oak twig checked out for free thanks to the state of California and Planned Parenthood.

I went there a little over a week ago and I talked to the nice young woman with the bad haircut about how much she gets harassed for working there while she drained my blood to see if I had HIV. She was a sweetheart and I think we really hit it off. I like to think that she was happy for me when she found out that I wasn,t going to die from a dick disease yet. I filled my piss cup to the very top for her. This is going to be a pretty big waste of money.

I Really Like That Picture

I have been using the word ,,gimmick,, a lot lately. Actually, I have been misusing it. I have been telling people that ______ is their new gimmick but instead of citing a real gimmick, I just mention a characteristic about them or something that they are doing right then. My roommate combs his hair so his new gimmick is combing his hair. I am attracted to fat girls so that,s my new gimmick. My other roommate has a sharp nose and wears black and got some free bread at three this morning because he went to a bread factory to get a job and apparently he gets paid in hot dog buns so that,s his new gimmick. My new gimmick is saying, ,,Your new gimmick,,. How annoying is this to read? I can,t even imagine how bad it is for people that have to live in the same filthy box as me.

There is a dead worm stuck to the bathroom floor right now. I saw it worming around the other morning on the windowsill before I took a shower. That worm saw my worm. That,s its new gimmick. I don,t understand how a worm could make it six feet up a wall and crawl through a tiny hole in a window. The only reasonable scenario I have come up with is that it was a tree-worm that got blown off of its branch home and landed perfectly on our bathroom window. The only problem is that I don,t think there is such thing as tree-worms. Apparently there is such thing as a Christmas Tree Worm but those look nothing like the one dried to my disgusting, pube covered bathroom floor.

Metronomy - The English Riviera
Another gimmick I have been dealing with lately is the toilet,s new gimmick of being covered in pubic hair all of the time. This is actually a very old gimmick. I know that it isn,t from me because I have been wearing the military cut down there for some time now (high and tight). My fake roommate says it,s not him because he ,,manscapes,,. I think he just likes saying that word. That,s his new gimmick. I believe him though because he is always having sex with pretty girls that seem like they like a trimmed rose. His penis is a rose. His hair is the leaves. My real roommate says that it isn,t him but it totally is. I don,t know why he won,t admit it. There is no shame in having a natural, tangled, greasy pile of curly hairs engulfing your wiener. Lord knows I,ve been there before.

Sharing Shirts

The other night I spent some Q.T. (quality time) with some Eastern Weed Brothers. For those of you that don,t know, an Eastern Weed Brother (EWB) is somebody from the east coast with a funny accent that really likes weed and is a boy. It was an enlightening experience. They all looked and smelled exactly how they should have.

I went over to some girl,s house because I heard a rumor that she was fat. It turns out she,s not really fat but it was still pretty. It was just her and two of my friends and seven or eight of the EWB. They were all wearing black shirts that were all in the process of fading to a rich, bleach spotty brown-gray. Many of them had pubic beards that sat low on their acne scarred chins and wore salt stained hats or beanies over their matted down, greasy locks. They all said the F word a whole lot.

Slim Whitman - The Very Best Of Slim Whitman
They were all masters of conversation and spoke on such topics as the crisis in Japan, film theory, music, and the pros and cons of smoking weed in a van. Many of them agreed that they should stop smoking cigarettes in their van because it smelled really bad in there. However, the thought of not smoking weed in the van was blasphemous. The discussion was never really finalized though because it was interrupted by one of the EWB asking, ,,Does anybody want to take a trip to space?,, while holding a small glass pipe in the air. He then announced that there would be a weed-based business meeting outside in a few minutes if any associates wanted to join him. Most everybody did.

To conclude such an intellectually stimulating evening, we all watched a horrible movie. The girl that lived there had a ton of movies. Unfortunately, many of them were duplicate copies of the 1993 Disney feature Hocus Pocus starring Bette Midler. The highlight of the night was when I accidentally touched her hand for a second when I was readjusting myself. That was the most physical contact I have had with anybody in months and will probably be the last for a long time to come. Even though she recoiled in horror at the touch of my cold, bony hand I was more than satisfied. She had fat hands.

Get Well Soon

I went to a punker show last night and looked at some cute girl with fake red hair. I think that,s as far as I,ve ever gotten with a girl on a first date. We didn,t talk or introduce ourselves or anything but I looked at her a couple of times. It was a great success. She had a fat face which was fine by me. Her friends were pretty ugly though which makes me think that she is an idiot. No self-respecting young woman would ever be friends with a troupe of horrific ghouls. I tired to be an optimist about it and thought that maybe she was just putting in some face time with them for charity reasons but she appeared to enjoy their company so now I don't know what to think.

My Death Cad For Cutie cover band is supposed to play a show tonight up in the hills. I grew up in those very same hills. Every so often my dad will ask me if I am doing anything with my life and instead of telling him the truth I pretend that playing awful ,,music,, is something that matters to me and that I take it seriously. I don,t want to break his fat old heart and tell him that I am just sitting in a motionless pool of my own waste and loneliness instead of having a good job or going to school or forming meaningful relationships. Each time I see him he asks me if I have any performances coming up. I usually don,t so I am off the hook. Even when I do, I try not to mention it because I embarrass myself enough without him witnessing how terrible I am. I don,t want my dad thinking I am any gayer than he already does. I suggested he come tonight though because it,ll be near home and I might as well get his shame and disappointment out of the way. I,ve been feeling pretty okay lately, it would be good for me if he knocked me down a couple of pegs.

Chapelier Fou - 613
I,m worried that people that I knew in school will be there. It,s not that I don,t want to see them, I just don,t want to see them right now or for a very long time. I don,t want to pretend like I am friends with them now just like I had to do when I was younger. Maybe I,ll see some girl I went to school with that was cool and pretty back then and now she is fat but still kind of pretty and has drastically lowered her standards and I can spend the night looking at her without trying to approach her. That would be fine.

Another fun scenario could be that of the ugly duckling. The ugly, smart girl that loved horses and had hair that was way too long finally realized that a horse penis may feel good but can never provide the disrespect and insults that a man can so she has turned her eye from the stable to bedroom. She cut off that incredibly long, wispy hair and has come to understand that you don,t need to wear your aunt,s faded jeans everyday. Now she wears nice sweaters and smokes weed occasionally but isn,t really into it and listens to a lot of Brazilian funk from the seventies. That,s her thing. She knows a ton about Brazilian funk and has a few tapes in her car that she really want,s to play for you after the show. Then you two go to Taco Bell for a fourth meal but it,s already closed because it,s in the hills and it,s after Nine PM. So you just sit in her car in the parking lot of Taco Bell with weird funk playing quietly on a warped tape and neither of you want to make out but you do it anyway with the hope that moving your mouth will trick your brain into think that you are eating and you won,t feel so hungry anymore. Maybe that,ll happen tonight.

I Promised

I used to work at a liquor store with my friends. It was great. I could eat all the candy I wanted and smash beer bottles in the back to release my teenage rage. We got away with everything there because the cameras didn,t work and there were no records of sales or accounts or anything. There will never be a job that great again.

It was very cool working with all of my friends too. Everyday was an eight hour dance party. We made up a code to tell each other if we thought a girl was pretty while they were in the store without them noticing. We wanted to be jerks to their faces without them realizing how insulting we were. It worked really well. There were two main categories - Shake and Slice.

Cex - Bataille Royale
Shake was short for Shake a hat. Somebody thought that in the olden days you would shake your hat at a lady you were interested in. I don't think that ever happened. If somebody was a shake then not only would you be willing to have sex with her, but you would not be embarrassed if anybody knew about it. You might even be proud of it. There were variations on the Shake too. You could shake a top hat which meant that you thought she could be dating material and had some class to her. You could also shake a a box of hats which meant you were really, really into her.

Slice wasn,t short for anything, it was just a word we picked. A slice was somebody that you guessed was sort of okay and you might have sex with them on a Tuesday night if you had nothing better to do and nobody ever found out. Those were usually sort of shameful to admit. That was the fun of the Slice though. When some girl would come in with no pockets on the back of her ripped, faded, flair jeans, pulling her 2 year old son by the hand, buying 4 cans of Sparks energy alcohol for her work day and couldn,t figure out how to give exact change, it was always nice to ask the person you were working with if they were a slice and hope that you weren,t the only one with such debased standards and ethics.

It was always kind of a bummer when somebody was a slice in your head and nobody else agreed. Then you knew you were the worst of them all. You were the only one that would ever even think about looking at that middle aged bleach-blond woman with two cigarettes in her mouth and a crescent of white, veiny meat hanging out above her belt. You were a disgusting human being and now everybody knew it.