They Go To Ireland

Last night my Death Cab For Cutie cover band played the coolest show ever. I mean ,,cool,, in the sense that everybody there smoked cigarettes and all the girls, jeans were riding way too high up and there was a ton of leather and irony in the room. It was in the second story living room of a house that is really close to my apartment. I was told that it was supposed to start at seven thirty and when we showed up a little after eight there were two people there on the porch that told us that nobody was inside.

We walked back to my apartment and watched a Swedish skate video that doesn,t have any skating but it has a lot of spinning instead. We went back to the cool-girls-with-dumb-haircuts-and-faces house a little after nine to find that there were now three or four more people there. I figured that nobody would play any music and it would just be people drinking cheap beer and smoking expensive cigarettes. Boy was I almost right. We played and people didn,t care but they at least stood in the room we were playing in.

Colossamite - All Lingo,s Clamor
My favorite part of the night was when I was carrying some heavy stuff out of the house back to my car. I am clearly a very malnourished, sickly person who cannot carry anything for more than a few seconds without having a debilitating asthma attack or having my bones shatter from the strain. Lord knows that my atrophied ,,muscles,, aren,t doing anything to help. Anybody can see that. The cool girls on the porch didn,t mind though and they continued to hand each other cigarettes making a veritable Berlin wall of track marked, emaciated arms as I tried to walk passed them. It was alright though. They were loud and wore neat handmade shorts over fishnet stockings and bizarre fish shoes so they had carte blanche.

The queen of the evening was a girl that my roommate referred to as a ,,fat monster,,. It is a short but fitting description. When I first saw her I thought she was my friend Charles and that he had gained a significant amount of weight and had boiling oil thrown in his face. She had a sucker in her mouth as an accessory. She sort of looked like a dead minor league umpire. I do give her some respect for owning her look though. She knows that she looks like a horrendous ghoul and she does nothing to hide the fact. Actually, she does the opposite. Her clothing choices and general demeanor only serve to further accentuate her foul looks. Her hair was made of straw and her her bones were as thick as gorilla thighs. She was course in every sense of the word. She is the spokesperson for the far too underutilized term ,,Rode hard and put away wet,,.

A Set Of Handsome Lines

I changed the password to my Netflix account last night because I have given it to too many people and sometimes I can't watch something online because two other people are doing it simultaneously. I barely ever watch stuff on there on my computer so I,m guessing over two hundred people are using my account for that to have happened more than once. But much more importantly than that, somebody has been watching a lot of movies in the past few days that are rated less than two stars. The kind of people that take the time to rate movies on Netflix that are classified as ,,Teen Comedies,, or ,,Romantic Dramas,, are generally not too discerning so it is sort of a big deal when they are rated one point one star.

Will Ferrell and Hugh Grant have been getting a lot of play recently. I also see that somebody watched the highly acclaimed Alice In Wonderland starring everything on a computer. I hope me changing the password stops this from happening. I really don,t remember who I have given it out to. What if a hacker has it and he,s such a good hacker that he can figure out my new one right away? What if this hacker really likes Romantic Comedies and the work of Julia Roberts?

The Beastie Boys - Polly Wog Stew
I,m an idiot though. As soon as I changed it I told five people what it was. My roommate doesn,t count though because I can just walk to his room and tell him to stop watching something if it means that I can,t watch my stories (Man v Food). So five people have it but one of them lives with me, one of them has their own account and one of them says he doesn,t use it. I guess that,s not too bad. One of the people I gave it to needs it or he,ll go crazy. I think he normally uses it between two and six in the morning anyway which are not my peak hours.

I have written three paragraphs about a Netflix password. I didn,t take a shower this morning and my gums are bleeding and I keep getting told I have bad breath and everything about me stinks and people shutter when I touch them or even get near them and I am dying. That,s the moral of this story. I write about Netflix in order to cope with the realization of my disgusting mortality.

Ricky Gervais

Last night I drove deep into the hills. It was strange being able to see the stars at night and not hearing a bunch of homeless people arguing about who was going to stand guard while one of them jerked off outside of my apartment. I went out there because I was invited to a small get together. It was nice to drive too fast on a dirt road again. You forget how American it is to lose control of a vehicle when you,re only going thirty miles per hour. I made it though. I didn,t even die or anything.

It was mostly real adults there. Adults with kids and drinking problems and property and bills in the triple digits. There were plenty of cowboy hats around. Lord knows I got my hands on one as soon as I could. The plentiful bounty of beer was served in the bucket of a green tractor. Somebody described somebody else as ,,The man cutting meat,,. Lots of plaid. Very new country music was played for several hours until Miley Cyrus, ,,Party In The USA,, came on. There was a weird domesticated skunk wondering around. The grill was made of industrial-grade pig iron and was surely manufactured by the capable hands of one of the adults, kids in their Agricultural Mechanics class at the local high school. It had the words ,,COUNTRY COOKIN,, welded to the top.

Tera Melos - Echo On The Hills Of Knebworth
The house it was at was really cool even though there are a bunch of dumb animals around. All the cowboys there were nice and I didn,t see a single Obama effigy. I kept pressuring my friend to drink more than he had planned because I wanted him to get weird. I told him I wanted him to start a fist fight with some old guy or piss on the tractor or roll down a big rocky hill or puke really loudly and obnoxiously in front of a bunch of people. Almost nobody there knew him so if he made a fool of himself it would be an excellent and lasting first impression.

He drank plenty of free tractor beers, and although he didn,t get too weird, he did end up asking some girl with nice shoes and cool teeth for her phone number. My accomplishment was talking to a pretty girl with hairy legs and a weird laugh. It wasn,t exciting but I did get to make an excuse to leave the conversation. That was nice. It,s so often the other way around.

You Are Now Disinterested

Recently, a house across the street from mine has filled up with yelling people. They sleep through most of the day but when the sun goes down they rise up from their Four Loko induced slumber, put on giant nightgown-style white shirts and stand in a cluster right outside of their front door to shout weird noises at people. They're usually out there when I come home at night from anything. There are five to ten of them at any given time after Nine PM. It,s mostly guys but occasionally there is a confused, frightened female or two (pregnant). I have never heard them speak any language but they are almost constantly making noise.

Sometimes I can,t park directly in front of my apartment and run in as fast as I can. I often have to park down the street and walk several hundred feet to reach the safety of my bug filled apartment. An earwig crawled out of my computer the other morning while I was using it. The group of giant shirts would never miss an opportunity to shout something at a moving person like myself. But, like I said, it isn,t any kind of language. It,s generally a loud organic beeping. It,s a shrill ,,Yeep!,, or ,,Wheep!,, or ,,Shee!,,. It,s very bizarre and I can,t figure out what they mean by it. I think it is some sort of Hispanic echolocation. They,re just pinging me to see if I am a wounded fish or slow rodent.

One of the inhabitants of the hive is sometimes outside in the daylight. He wears the longest, whitest nightgown of them all. Here is an artist,s rendering of what his type may look like in case you ever run into one in the field.

Tammy Wynette - Your Good Girl,s Gonna Go Bad
He is the worker ant. He scouts around the hive looking for remnants of beer left to boil in the bottom of bottles and cans so he can add it to the hive,s reserves. He works quickly and carefully to ensure that the rest of ,,The Family,, has enough fuel to continue their nocturnal existence. Under his soft cloth shell he has numerous inflatable bladders which he can fill with his findings (hot beer, spit scotch, coffee grounds, blunt wrapper packages and those weird Mexican suckers that have a scorpion or lizard tail in them).

I think he also serves as a sort of guard. I almost always see him marching briskly on the same two blocks. I think I read somewhere that he can, at any time, turn the contents of his storage bladders into an intensely pressurized acid that he will use to defend his home or mark his territory. I hope he doesn,t take all of the filthy shoes we have thrown over a power line as a sign of aggression and attack me. It,s a good thing I carry a cool knife sometimes.

Constant Medicine

Last night I went to a grown up pizza party. It actually ended up not being very grown up. There were some fancy pizzas being made which made it seem sort of grown up but there were also big fat guys walking around with their eyes closed and talking really loudly and me making jokes about weed that didn,t make sense. There was also a girl there that kept wishing people a happy birthday. It was somebody,s birthday but that didn,t give her the right to say it to so many other people.

I brought some weird beers there because I thought it would be the adult thing to do. They looked fancy enough and they had a cool picture on them so I went for it. Everything was going fine until some nerd grabbed one, opened it up, and took a deep whiff with his eyes closed. He was really trying to capture the aroma and study the fullness of the brew,s bouquet. He was also trying to prove that he knew how to use his nose. I had met the nerd once before and he spent much of the evening talking about all of the great breweries he had been to and why whatever somebody else liked sucked compared to his favorite beer. All of his clothes were stoner brown which means they were once a crisp black but he has owned/worn them for so long that they have mellowed into a nice, bleach spotted brown-gray. He looked like he really liked reading Thrasher Magazine in 1999 and never grew out of it. His wide leg Dickies were torn to shreds at the bottom of each leg from him being a bit too chill to pull his pants up if they were dragging. He wouldn,t even pull them up if it were raining outside. He would let his pant legs slowly absorb more and more water and any bystander would be able to watch this progress as the slightly darker black crept up the back of his legs.

Cliff Carlisle - Kountry Kind
Somebody eventually put some music on that was way too loud. Some of the songs were by Afro American Man but most of the songs were by a music making program with little or no human input. Somebody got tired of hearing this stuff so they started playing music from their iPod. I think they accidentally played all the same songs we had already listened to. They just wanted to show off that they had an iPod. I decided that I am going to start DJing parties using two iPads.

All of my bizarre, unfunny weed jokes started to give me a headache and I decided to leave. Plus, a strange group of grown Mexican toddlers showed up wearing giant black shirts and pants that were shaped like shorts and the girl was pregnant with razor sharp eyebrows. She started doing drugs. The other adult toddlers stood around her in a circle and blew weed smoke at her belly button in an attempt to hot box her womb. It may have been an ancient Mayan tradition.