I Hate Cats So Much

In the last two days I have eaten an ungodly amount of cereal. I love cereal. I used to eat it a ton when I was a kid. It,s the easiest thing in the world to make and everybody knows that I am a disgustingly lazy person. Cereal and I went hand in hand. Back in my prime cereal days, I used to really like Corn Flakes. I would usually just eat them with milk. Sometimes though, I would put a diabetic amount of sugar in there. I would put so much that the top would be completely white and when I would shovel down to the bottom of the bowl I would scoop up a wet, gritty mound of gold to accompany the soggy flakes. It was great.

Now I hate sweet stuff. I don,t eat or drink anything fun anymore. Probably because of those goddamn cereals. Everything I eat and drink is boring. When I want to go really wild I will have a glass of orange juice and think about what chocolate looks like. God, even that is making me wince. I usually just boil some red pepper flakes and half of a turnip in my shoe for dinner. That,s about all of the flavor I can handle.

But this cereal I have been eating the passed two days has been insane. I rarely eat cereal anymore because it is way too expensive for a human being. So when I stumble upon a free, huge bag of Silly Circles brand family oat and fruit flavored cereal style breakfast food, I jump at the opportunity. I poured myself a giant bowl of it yesterday and threw in somebody,s expired vegan milk I found and had myself a party. I knew it was going to be bad but I just tried to muscle it down in honor of my younger self.

The Chap - Well Done Europe
Today I did the same thing but there were no more Silly Circles. Somebody had left half of a box of Frosted Mini Spooners and two unopened gallons of one percent milk. Milk is horrible. I rarely drink it so I don,t know what it is supposed to smell like. I always think it has gone bad. Even the one I just opened. The sell by date is like three weeks from now but I knew it was putrid. That always taints my experience. My distrust in milk all stems from me being a hypochondriac about things that hypochondriacs don,t care about. Milk.

The Spooners tasted like a sweet holocaust in my mouth where the Jews and gays were replaced by my flaccid taste buds and delicate sensibility. Complete annihilation. And I usually love cereal that is in that shape. The shredded wheat-sawdust at the bottom of the box, Oh My God. It,s the best. But this was just a pile of sugary ash. Burnt clowns piled in a bog of lemon-curd and ginger. I ate every bite of it.

Smiling

I just went and hung out in a dumb beach town for two days. It was full of homeless people with deteriorating faces and bad attitudes. I ate nothing but giant burritos and my body is now an uncomfortable diarrhea machine at this point. I love it. I only got called a faggot once which was surprising and I didn't even get beaten up or anything.

My friend got us this rad freetel (that,s the new phrase for free hotel). Of course I stayed up way too late and watched some show about a mean fish and Food Network. That was pretty great. Somebody peed their pants next to the pool like it wasn,t no thang. It wasn,t. We went to the beach and walked around looking at horrible people. They were all sufficiently horrible.

I didn,t want to spend a ton of money on food so my friend and I bought a Tombstone and went to some kid,s house to cook it. They had a surprisingly clean oven for the amount of rabbit poop on the ground. Everybody was barefoot and smoking weed the whole time and didn,t get any of the hilarious jokes I kept telling. Their loss.

J Spaceman - Silent Sound
The next day we didn,t know what to do and we didn,t have a place to be since we had to leave the freetel. We were treated to a free breakfast of hard boiled eggs, tomato juice, and cold oatmeal to start our day. After our feast we drove around aimlessly and ended up hanging out at my favorite Safeway. Then we went back to rabbit poop house and sat in the sun. Later we slept next to a pool while a woman made out of a garbage bag half filled with jellyfish pointed her dumper at us.

That night my dumb band played a show at that house. A bunch of collegers came. You could tell they were collegers by the lighters smashed in between boobs, the overwhelming stink of Axe Body Mist that filled the tiny room, and the way that the girls there tried to sop up spilled beer with their bare feet. It was sufficiently horrible. We played a bunch of Minor Threat songs and I told more hilarious jokes before, during, and after we played but people still didn,t get them. Some girl passed out and smashed her face on a keyboard though. That was pretty good. She maintained that she was just really tired and fell asleep for a second. She sure convulsed a lot for just sleeping but maybe that,s how people do it down there.

Buying An Old Paint Shop

Last night I went grocery shopping at midnight. It was Friday. That meant that the only other people there besides my friend and I were the horrible, middle-aged creatures that were refilling on bottom shelf tequila and Weight Watcher 100 Calorie Packs of cookies. They were beasts; women with blotchy tanned legs sticking out of their terrycloth anal floss, screaming at the tops of their lungs about how Deborah was so drunk that she fell on a pile of bananas and is now bleeding. I hope Deborah is driving you all to the next bar, you pigs. They had all the ingredients for a night of bloody diarrhea, I can tell you that. I,ll have to check the obituaries for them this week.

So Percussion And Matmos - Treasure State
I spotted two amazing gems checking out pizza in the frozen food isle, specifically, the pizza section. He was a hulking, sweaty lower echelon covered in faded tattoos of stars and naked women and weird dermal piercings on his face that looked like a beetle was laying eggs on him covered in a mix of skintight Ed Hardy, Nor Cal and Tapout clothing. She was a 39 year old rape victim with platform sandals, peroxide extensions falling off of her head, and a super cute ankle tattoo of tweety bird or Taz or something. She also had wobbly, tanned skin and a mutant mouth slathered in fuchsia gloss and infected piercings.

They were meant for each other. I wish I had a picture of them so bad. Just imagine any porn star after a car wreck accompanied by the guy that takes most of her money and hits her regularly. But that doesn,t do them justice. They were gods. They were so much better than gods. I just wanted to follow them around and hear the cultured conversation they were sure to have. Discussions about what kind of vodka gets you drunk faster, how glad they were they gave up all three kids to adoption so they could ,,stay young,,, how much more money they have to save to have enough for her second breast enhancement, and how the new kid at the board shop keeps making him look bad because he is friendlier and sells more and is 18 years younger.

Paper

Tattoos are dumb and Kat Von D is a stupid, ugly bitch. That being said, all I ever do anymore is give people tattoos. It,s my calling in life. I,m glad I found it because it is the only thing that has helped pull me out of my suicidal depression. For a minute there, I was really close to chasing Chris Beeman and smoking a bowl with Jesus and Terri Schiavo. I just had to look up if she is dead or not. Just keeping up on current events.

What I mean by all of this is that last night I gave my poor, patient friend a tattoo with a dirty needle that she found for several hundred hours. It was fun. It was mostly just hanging out and watching movies and eating chocolate and braiding each other,s hair. I,m just full of lies today. It wasn,t that fun because I was stabbing her over and over in the same spot and I can,t draw so it looks like somebody like me, with no experience or talent, tattooed somebody. Permanent Body Bummer.

Matmos - The Civil War
I have always hated that everybody that tattoos people has tattoos. There is a reoccurring conversation in my life about this. I have asked a lot of idiots with tattoos if they would ever be willing to get tattooed by somebody that has never had one. Everybody immediately says no. Sometimes, if people aren,t complete wastes, I can add variables to the equation such as - What if he/she has a large, impressive body of work? Or, What if a friend of yours can testify to his/her expertise? A few people might realize that they are idiots for saying no so quickly and succumb to my overwhelming, perfect genius. Most people are total wastes however, and obstinately refuse to accept the idea that a tattoo ,,artist,, with no tattoos can be good at anything.

The most common reasoning for their staunch idiocy is something like, ,,They can,t be good at it if they haven,t experienced it themselves.,, That,s like saying a brain surgeon wouldn,t be good at his job unless he has undergone brain surgery. Or that a cosmetic surgeon wouldn,t be capable unless he had giant, spherical boobs with a large, stretched-out flat area in between them. Luckily, most surgeons must have numerous procedures performed on them before they get their licenses. It,s the rules. The rules of surgery. And they must never be broken.