The Life of an Assless Man

my life 6 words

2010-02-03T20:36:00.000-08:00

never did manage to understand you

aspie child to prosody proponents foe

Pittsburgh Jew Lacked Much In Faith

Faulting pulchritude did it with guile

Cautious examination leads to strange result

2010-02-01T18:04:00.000-08:00

Rain falling.
Smoke rising.
Suck Blood.

Give nourishment.
Breathe fire.
Live art.
Wail sacrilege.
Make love.
Show scars.
Create beauty.
Destroy yourself.

blah

2010-02-01T17:26:00.000-08:00

during my worst times
Alone and cold
fear jailed
or passing with
whores
life contained a certain
contentment-
I wouldn't call it
happiness-
it was more a grand
balance
that guised

itself as fullness
and it helped in the
cubicle
and when life
collapsed
with the
girls.

Mi primera poema en espanol!!!

2010-01-29T14:38:00.001-08:00

El tiempo es el único retablo familiar, último punto de referencia.

Incluso tu sombra cae sesgadamente aquí, imitándote de manera extraña,

¿Ó eres realmente encorvada y escapas a toda prisa o por la banqueta?

¿Cuándo te volviste tan pequeña?

Es fácil volverse nostálgico. Es algo fácil.

Claramente el tiempo no es un paisaje para construir un hogar.

Tu amado, en cuya querida ciudad tú ahora moras,

está de acuerdo en que uno de ustedes tiene una ventaja.

¿Pero cuál de los dos?

Le haces recordar a tu amado que “morar” proviene del antiguo Castellano,

significando así el “descarriar”, “deambular” le señalas, retorciendo tus llaves entre tus dedos.

Entonces permanece. “Di que permaneces aquí” sugiere tu amado,

recordando demasiado tarde,

que permanecer también significa soportar, tolerar, cargar.

¿Son acaso todas estas palabras para ‘quedarse quieto’ tan problemáticas?

Ambos se asientan en ‘residir’,

libre de interpretaciones erróneas,

balanceando sus piernas sobre el balcón

que tiene vista al parque

a donde a veces van solos, los dos,

para alimentar los pajarillos negros

que te hacen recordar tu hogar de la infancia.

Ni tú ni tu amado sugieren que clamas el vivir aquí.

Secretamente piensas que aquí moras,

te estás enredando,

te estás desenredando

y lo opuesto de lo opuesto

Sólo tu sombra vive aquí,

conservando aún todo lo que siempre ha tenido.

Por que tu cuerpo es su techo.

Porque eres su hogar.

Su hogar sin hogar

a loveless world

2010-01-29T07:40:00.000-08:00

I was fairly drunk when it began

and I took out my bottle and used it

I was working the next day

I did not look pretty, but I brought it off

Finished in Bar Americas

I drank scotch, beer, tequila, vodka

and noticed a nice one sitting next to me

Buck toothed she grinned at me

lovely. and I put my arm around her

and began loading her with bullshit, When I awakened at 10 am the next morning

I was in a strange house

In bed

with this

woman, she was asleep but looked

Familiar

Paulina

2010-01-29T07:25:00.000-08:00

Captivating, Callous

In equal measure

Or perhaps

infinitely so

the hard sun

dancing

so brightly

across the flower bed

beautiful

she looks at me,

or perhaps through me

a rusty shell

battle-wrecked

Drunk from the war

Ha!, and I become

quick with the world

and more so with a cruel word

your gaze beats them back

just like it was meant to do.

In My Dreams

2010-01-29T07:13:00.000-08:00

You approach me quickly

Mouth Agape

with sharp isosceles teeth

Gnawing now

through Muscle, Sinew, Bone

Gorging yourself on the delicate offal of my body

My nightmares are much worse

you're not there at all.

Our Relationship Ended When you Started Crying

2009-05-12T12:50:00.000-07:00

The magnificent violence of a drop of rain,
Enough to carve chasms,
profound as the grand canyon,

expansive as the space between us.

Drawing the jagged coastlines,
and winding rivers
inter coastal highways really.

our worlds shaped. Shattered.

delicate lines,
false permanence endowed by our maps.
The maps will fade, and the lines will erode.

Falling fast by life's wayside

A single drop is the beginning.
The start of our world,
and for us, the start of the end
a single drop magnificent in its violence

grandiose in its semiotics
your tear draws a minimalist painting
that splits our shores forever.
divided for all our history

By the magnificent violence in a drop of rain

They're getting better

2008-12-08T11:01:00.000-08:00

Dwelling in a foreign land. Time is the only familiar
tableau, last locus. Even your shadow falls aslant here,
aping you strangely, or are you really hunched and scurrying
along the sidewalk? When did you grow so much
smaller? It is easy to become nostalgic. One easy thing.
Clearly time is not a landscape to make a home in.
Your beloved, in whose beloved city you now dwell,
agrees one of you has an advantage. But which one?
Remind your beloved that dwell comes from the Old
English, meaning to lead astray, to wander. As ravel
has come to be both unravel and also its opposite, you
point out, twisting your key ring in your fingers.
Abide then, say you abide here, suggests your beloved,
remembering too late that abide also means to endure,
to tolerate, to bear. Are all the words for holding still
so fraught? You both settle on reside, free
of overtones, swinging your legs over the balcony
that overlooks the park where you go sometimes
alone to feed the little black birds that remind you
of your childhood home. Neither you nor your beloved
suggests you claim to live here. Secretly you think
you dwell here, you are raveling, you are unraveling—
becoming opposite, and opposite’s opposite. Only
your shadow lives here, still having everything
it has always had. Because your body is its roof.
Because you are its home. Its homeless home.

Brain Hive

2008-12-04T14:27:00.000-08:00

The secret hives are aligned
near the lianas of heaven,
among the luminous nests.

Gather nectar there, bees of my thoughts,
little bees winged with sound
within the pregnant cloud of silence;
laden yourself with resin
perfumed with stars and wind:
we will seal all the gaps
communicating with the tumult of life.

Laden yourself also with stellar pollen
for the prairies of the earth;
and tomorrow, when there will be wreathed
the wild roses of my poems,
we will have celestial rose hips
and sidereal seeds.

2008-07-02T09:58:00.000-07:00

coffee shiop amsterdam
1. hot tub
2. steelers
3. beer?
4. dj?
5. breakfast
6. lunch
7. chris sandy roy

On my sunday

2008-06-23T12:34:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about what makes me want to be a writer, and what I've come to realize is, it's the other writers. So many people I read are able to establish connections with both the fictional (or fictionalized real person) characters they write about, and relate this connection with the people who read it (for me anyway). So I figured if it's the writers then they must be reflected in my writing. So I pulled out my dog eared copy of poems by blake and got to reading. He was not angry, and was not especially sad. I say this knowing almost nothing of who he was. However the fact he's so good made me angry, and thus I desecrated a bunch of my older writing is inferior. I now greatly regret this. If I've ever given you a poem, I kept a copy. I no longer have these copies. If you have a copy, and you see it's not on my site please send it over to me as I now have no back catalog, and want to vomit over my drunken destructive stupidity. That's the last fucking time I try to read and abuse drugs at the same time.

Why I write the way I do

2008-06-23T07:18:00.000-07:00

Because I can be better than this dip shit

A Supermarket in California
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whit-
man, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees
with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.
In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images,
I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of
your enumerations!
What peaches and what penumbras! Whole fam-
ilies shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives
in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!--and you,
Garcнa Lorca, what were you doing down by the
watermelons?

I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old
grubber, poking among the meats in the refrigerator
and eyeing the grocery boys.
I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed
the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my
Angel?
I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of
cans following you, and followed in my imagination
by the store detective.
We strode down the open corridors together in
our solitary fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every
frozen delicacy, and never passing the cashier.
Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors
close in an hour. Which way does your beard point
tonight?
(I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the
supermarket and feel absurd.)
Will we walk all night through solitary streets?
The trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses,
we'll both be lonely.
Will we stroll dreaming ofthe lost America of love
past blue automobiles in driveways, home to our silent
cottage?
Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-
teacher, what America did you have when Charon quit
poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank
and stood watching the boat disappear on the black
waters of Lethe?

Allen Ginsberg

Why I Don't Write in any rhyming schemes

2008-06-23T07:01:00.000-07:00

Because I'll never be as good (or close) to those who came before me
Poison Tree

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

William Blake

Invalidation (I don't know why this didn't post right the first time)

2008-06-16T11:00:00.001-07:00

Invalidation

The snapping intensifies
my senses aroused
I know she's trying to get my attention

*Slap*

Perhaps a bit more than physical

She gives in to her qualms
I give in to my idiocy
I can't help the coward within

She lashes
I wilt

Well this isn't the sort of S&M I had in mind
No leather
No whips

Just myself

Beaten red
no release
no satisfaction

(unsure if this needs more lines. Does it get the point across? I mean what it says. The expectation of one kind of give and take of pain, and the reception of something else. I'm just not sure if that gets across.)

For Liz part Deux (written with her words)

2008-06-12T13:11:00.000-07:00

I believe

soulmates who eat sunshine.

butterflies and babies;

finally at peace.

giggling because I've found her,

finally found her,

I found her.

alone and decrepit.

Cerebrally vacant.
Metaphysically evil,
but

vivacious in body
My perfect soul mate.

Written right after I came back from Amsterdam with Chris Bill and Dough

2008-06-11T14:01:00.000-07:00

Amsterdamnit

How agreeable it is to be touring Amsterdam this winter,
wandering her streets and ascending her breakneck stairs.
A pleasure to cruise these local, familiar streets,
fully grasping the meaning of every road sign and billboard
the sudden hand gestures of my compatriots.

There are no abbeys here, no crumbling frescoes or famous
domes and there is no need to memorize a succession
of kings or tour the dripping corners of a dungeon.
No need to stand around a sarcophagus, see Napoleon's
little bed on Elba, or view the bones of a saint under glass.

How much better to command the simple precinct of home
than be dwarfed by pillar, arch, and basilica.
Why hide my head in phrase books and wrinkled maps?
Why feed scenery into a hungry, one-eyes camera
eager to eat the world one monument at a time?

Instead of slouching in a café ignorant of the word for ice,
I will head down to the coffee shop and the waitress
known as Dot. I will slide into the flow of the morning
paper, all language barriers down,
rivers of idiom running freely, eggs over easy on the way.

And after breakfast, I will not have to find someone
willing to photograph me with my arm around the owner.
I will not puzzle over the bill or record in a journal
what I had to eat and how the sun came in the window.
It is enough to light a joint and smile

more fucked up shit I wrote after molly dumped me.

2008-06-11T13:45:00.000-07:00

Suicide Note
If I die
It will be by my own hand
The rest of you will be left to wonder
why I
was trying to get away from
me.

Wow I was depressed when I wrote this (but it's pretty well constructed)

2008-06-11T13:41:00.000-07:00

Ending

flaccid seated upon the couch,
midnight, lapping cheap vodka
from a cup, Jesus, have I come
to this?
I once battled at parties
for a laugh.
now I'm not laughing.
I swallow joylessly and wonder,
How much time will be asked from me?
how many days?
my soul is empty and
a stupefying clarity rests in my brain.
things arrive; they pass
they go to nothing.
I understand the fall of cities, of
nations.
Light shimmers on the cock pit
of a large crane.
I look towards it as if it made sense to
look upward. it's true, the sky has rotted:
it won't be long for any of
us.

Another one along the same lines. This is the worst shit ever.

2008-06-11T13:38:00.000-07:00

Do you think of me
When the music of morning
First begins to sound,
When his barks and their horns
stir your world with their singing?

Do you think of me
As the sun lengthens shadows,
Until all the world
Fades into one big shadow,
And the night music begins?

Do you think of me
As your eyes close, and the night
Folds in around you,
Like the arms of a lover,
To hold you until morning?

You are in my mind
During all of these moments.
You are the music
Of my life, but I wonder,
Do you ever think of me?

The Hunt (correction this is about a bad first date that ends in sex (possible all first dates that end this way are bad))

2008-06-11T13:37:00.000-07:00

To cleave through the night
Like an butchers knife
Carving this very second
Exposing the bone

To sprinkle on it
That which fills my ears
The electric clink of silver on teeth
The boiling, brimming murmur between
Launching myself like a ship to sea
Through the aroma clouds
Stinging, clinging molecules
Of beer and ash

Dipping it into this glass
Ensuring my platitudes with the burn
That rolls down my throat, molasses-like,
Flesh-numbing, happy

Finally framing it with the walls
The corners of this stinking place
So it would never powder in palms
Clenched, losing

Then I would have you

Invalidation

2008-06-11T13:17:00.000-07:00

fucking the dog

2008-06-10T10:10:00.000-07:00

All you have to do is walk this way
around the bend and just past the point of no return
you, simply,
open your mouth and remove all filters
say what you want
liberate your ideas.

Do not spare feelings,
Do not parse words
Do not hold your tongue

This path of openess
is mostly a route to your pettiness
revel in your inability to express
do not revile your ability to upset

Own your shit
You will make people mad
They will hate you
Or at least think you odd

You will be well on your way
to that glorious place
where you've fucked the dog.

oops the for liz post was supposed to read this

2008-06-04T12:23:00.000-07:00

Boom
My head explodes
Your face is coated.
It's strangely erotic

This look, you covered in my gunk.
Fascinating
beautiful young woman
Thoughtful and kind
Covered in me

You were the cause of the head explosion
It's your own fault you're covered in my ick
If only it weren't my big head you'd made burst
"Women exist to serve men"
Ugh

Off the top of the dome (be kind about spelling as I had no spell check and am totally reliant)

2008-06-02T20:35:00.000-07:00

Conversations I have with myself and others all the time. In free flow writing poetry edition

Word Vomit
If I don't spew something I might die
I will force these words

Uninspired dribble

Unintelligible, Unrelated

Worst of all unfeeling

Still, they are guided
they are forced to surface
They will not be drowned
their air was almost up.

That's it.
The build up of toxic gases killed it's reason
The nascence of a mush brained poem

I wanted to right this for so long
it would not be written.
It could not be righted.

I can't believe this is the poem I dreamt about. Fuck I'm such a loser.

I'm a liar, but this isn't a lie. I hope
Hi have we met?
My name's Max.
If we've met, I've lied to you

The compulsion propels

A viscous cycle
too sticky to escape

I tried being honest with people
it turned my interactions...

It grated my relationships.
People hated me
Narrator included.

I tried telling you. I'm dull,
I'm nervous,
I'm happiest when I'm alone,

It didn't matter.

you were only happy with me: aggressor.

I made bad jokes,
I spoke brusquely,
I was sexually aggressive with all the wrong girls.

I was emotional.
I was weird.
I was the center of attention.

This is the man I'm known as.
This is part of the man I am

I am my own actions,
I own my reality,

and yet

I am vacant.
I am lost.
I don't have a fucking clue how it ended this way. Why do I insist on making a fool of myself?

Oh yeah the pussy.

Floods and Droughts
Allow me to introduce myself
I am mustache Max
hiding something behind a thin vail
Like a gay man with... well... a mustache.
I am a creator of bad words, and a provocateur of hair brained schemes
I am the impetus behind an entire school of thought.
Maxian: Posturing is victory
Learned in the ways of savage beasts
I spit soap box philosophy Enlightening a minority
I will change your life

Or not

I'm really a self important loser with a big nose

I'm out of shape, and out of my mind

I don't know why people are impressed with me.

NOTICE to readers It's A Sham.

My confidence is so tied to others
not just their liking me,
but their agreance.
Tacit, or other. In my mythology

I am a legend, or I want to kill myself.

I just wish I had a middle speed.

I don't think anyone else does this (all assholes do this)
I am unique.
A precious, precocious snowflake.
No don't look that way,
I'm original.

My jokes? I came up with those
Oh you'd heard it before?

Shit.

Why I use drugs
Because.
They.
Make.
Me.
Cool.
no lie.

Is That Right?
Her smooth skin glistens
a light sheen of sweet sweat upon my lips

The flow from the left foot
to the left hip
along her shapely side

Enticing

Her right side buried
At peace

Her back rhythmically pumping
Up and down
Gentle reminders of her exhaustion

Lucky me.

Witness to sated beauty.

Her body tells me she wants to be held

I just want her to go

Please leave
I've got a lot of work to do tomorrow.
I really need a good nights sleep.

I stay silent.

I move to the couch.

Nice Blind Date is on.

Things I Think While Depressed

2008-05-27T09:29:00.000-07:00

I wish I wasn't me,
But I don't want to be anyone else.
How can you appreciate when
The only thing you dislike more than yourself
is everyone else.

Lonesome Thompson Gunner

2008-05-27T09:06:00.000-07:00

Warren Zevon
The soundtrack to my travels
my travails
have a much less poignant ambience.

On reading poetry

2008-05-26T08:33:00.000-07:00

I'm posting this mostly as a reminder to myself (well only erik actually looks at this site)
1. Read with the grammar not the structure
2. Finish the poem if you can, and if you can't either it's garbage, or you're an idiot
3. They don't have to make sense to touch on reality. So don't dodge the topic because it's a big fucking quagmire.

Lemon(lime)/LSD (poem found written in highschool while tripping)

2008-05-26T08:16:00.000-07:00

The acid spews delicious
It's flavor jump from the pallet

Absorbed in paper and citrus
They hue my life
Flavors and realities

One an altered state.
The other alters taste.
The effect is striking,

Only in its similarity.
Cerebral changes emerge,
They are beaten back.

Only to renew its nascence.
So easy to forget,
Tastes and sensations.

This feeling,
Pleasurable, Indescribable.
Is it from a good meal, or the six tabs I swallowed?

On intimacy and other ununderstandables

2008-05-22T09:34:00.000-07:00

Intimate moments
The light touches the skin pressed,
the words unleashed...
Spewed un-edited un-filtered full of life

Most of life you live behind a shield
A spiked wall ready to bash.
Turning your friends and family to tikka
Your words unsaid metal skewers bisecting your relationships

These moments of intimacy.
Brief glimpses into my own humanity.
glances into what I think I am.

Isn't it odd.
Strange. Weird. Or at least somewhat unusual.
That all my most intimate moments are with strangers?

What it Means to be a Man

2008-04-17T09:50:00.001-07:00

-Maxwell R. Davis

Starting a Fist Fight with an Oncoming Train

2008-04-16T16:58:00.000-07:00

These tides they are a same-in.
A new day dawns to reach the old sunset
nature´s turns are circles
spinning endless.

Elitism, A pox on your house
A feckless insult landing squarely on all shoulders.
A faultless man could never reach these heights
Elitist all, decent none
Stop telling me what to do.

I hear the beast a dancin',
It's screams and wails reverberating
Ah yes he says just like Ghengis,
Just like Caesar,
Just like Bush.

I want to scream
"It's all falsehood"
"Every word drips lies"
"just look at the trail. That goo is unmistakable"

I swing my fists
Landing air
laughter erupts.
"Can't he see? We're fixing the world."
Maybe they are, but only for them.

Fuck your world.
Fuck your petty causes.
Fuck health care.
Fuck Social Security.
Their endless eating has stripped my bones.

They see, They know
They can't help themselves.
They can't stop themselves from laughing,
"What could be funnier than a boxing Skeleton?"

Three ditties from the airplane

2008-04-07T08:01:00.000-07:00

Three Chimes on the Hour

Ding, Ding, Dong
Rough acoustics startle
Dreary eyes widen
A day like all others
Singular as part of the infinitum
Three more hours
Nine more chimes
A day alike,
But for one last thing
Today the songs are inaudible

The crescent of an orchid

Vulvic jutting
a flower grown wild
Hanging from the wall
Its openness pornographic
No shame, no fear
Is this the way we should live?
adrift in sensuality?
Its earthy aroma calls
Sweet, and yet tinged with naivety
Does it know how easily it could be crushed?
does it matter?
A flower, a woman the questions are the same.

Music Defines my Relationships

The stones ripple across blown speakers
her mouth moves, but her words evasive
a serpentine nature.
They sound of meaning that I cannot grasp
Curling around I want to ask
"what is the point?"
"Why are we waiting?"
Instead I nod.
My agreance is preordained
My cowardice is a learned habit
I tell myself there is strength in this.
That my passivity is grease
These rails need lubrication
If only
If only
If only
Each held word is itself an ends.
The warble now stronger.
More distinct
Less able to understand
never able to interpret

Why Crowds Scare Me (the commonality of the holocaust and a knicks game)

2007-12-06T09:42:00.000-08:00

The crowd as MSG
is Moved uniformly

A spirit of worthlessness
Which infuriates them

All exciting in the detail
of the endless chase

The blooming of error
the flash of genius

All to no end save beauty
the only eternal

So in detail they, the crowd
embody beauty

for this

to be warned against

saluted and defied --

It is alive, and stinking

it snarls glumly

its words cut --

The flashy child with his

mother, gets it --

The Jew gets it straight -- it

is deadly, terrifying --

It is the Inquisition, the

Shoah, the Palace Revolution

It is beauty itself

that lives

day by day in them

idly, fervently --

This is

the power of their faces

This is the power
To move the world

Unthinking, Unblinking
Amock with its anger

Whole Sale Decimation (on throwing out moldy lunch meat)

2007-12-06T09:39:00.000-08:00

It was an icy day.

We buried this life

Then left out the trash

The world set fire to it

The mold that escaped

both plastic and fire

lived on in the cold

Why I'm an asshole

2007-10-04T11:26:00.000-07:00

Ok so I just read over some of my posts and they all seem to be about how shitty women are. They are not. I am silly and overly dramatic in my proclamations. I am a terrifically flawed being, and I want very much to not come off as someone who hates women. I do not. I think they are great like sunshine and lollipops.

Anoucha Brown Sanders and Why She Got What She Deserved

2007-10-04T08:08:00.000-07:00

Anoucha Brown Sanders was almost certainly not sexually harassed. Her basic claim is that she was routinely referred to as a bitch. Mind you there is no evidence that this was how she was exclusively referred to, but rather that she was at times referred to in this manner. If this is true so the fuck what? I work in a high pressure environment. People get frustrated, and sometimes personal insults are exchanged (particularly if you're an unpleasant person). A week ago my boss threatened to slit my throat. I didn't think of this as him attempting to kill me. Our environment is fast paced and people say stupid shit. Her claim that Isiah propositioned her seems ludicrous as he's isiah thomas and she's massively unattractive. Girls get over on this shit all the time, but you can't say shit, or you're a chauvinist. In a sports environment masculinity rules. There is no way around this. She knew she was working for a sports team a certain amount of more limited decorum while unfortunate is certainly not sexual harassment. Shit damn you women folk sure do abuse a history of repression don't you? I mean she may have been harassed, but just because she's a woman, and they're men doesn't make it sexual. The case came down to Isiah's word vs hers of course she wins. This is actually true in rape cases also. A women's word bizarrely carries more weight than a man's. I hate this.

Dark Alleys

2007-09-18T12:19:00.001-07:00

Blah... So the last two days at work I have been moving like a sloth. I had been making about 60 calls a day in the three weeks prior to this. The last two days? 15 total. Now I get calls and emails and do other things, but mostly I've come to work read about sports (and oddly enough a lot of economics), and left. You'd think these would have been two of the best days in the history of employment. Incorrect good sir. These days have sucked. They've sucked so much I put two blog posts up in one day (ok I've done this before). They've sucked mostly because I had been in a good flow on the phone, and I completely killed my momentum. Also I have to show some production this month as last month I did really well, and I've only booked one deal this month. Ok on to the funny. So I had an interesting thing happen to me last evening. I went out with a girl I've been talking with for a bit. She's super new york. Distressingly so. She regularly regals me with tails of her 600 dolce pumps. slap. I hate this girl. She is the antithesis of almost everything I like in women. She's not the least bit independent. Her parents pay for all her bills includiong 2K for rent! She is exclusively concerned with the superficial. I have meaningful conversations with strangers I meet on the train, but I can't get her to tell me anything valuable about herself. Why do I spend time with her? She's hot. She has a fantastic body with big boobs and a great ass. She's blond and tall (5'9) and has these amazing green/grey eyes that sort of glow. I've found that if you have wonderful eyes (and don't look bad elsewhere) I can listen to insipid prattle for sickeningly long periods. She may be the most attractive person who I've ever dated. So last nigth we got dinner, and I wanted to punch myself in the face the entire time. I figured if I had a concussion I wouldn't be bothered as much by the things she was saying. The dinner ends. We go back to her place and start hooking up. She goes down on me for about 2 minutes then suddenly stops. She looks up at me with those great eyes, and I'm thinking she's about to say something exciting like insert sexual fantasy here. I was mistaken. Instead she says "you know what I'm thinking about" I choke back "apparently not sucking cock" she starts talking I go soft. Ten minutes later I'm out the door. I just wish I wasn't so fucking pathetic. If I wasn't I'd avoid these situations in their nascence, and not have to deal with ridiculo9us situations like this one

2007-09-18T11:21:00.000-07:00

I'm tired of everyone butchering the power rankings. He's a set worthy of my greatness.
1. New England Patriots. easiest placement. fuck Tom Brady
2. Indianapolis Colts. Why didn't they blow that titans team out?
3. Pittsburgh Steelers. Weak opponents, but impressive victories.
4. Dallas Cowboys. It pains me to put them here. The offense is so potent that in this small segment romo made all nashvilles women pregnant
5. Chicago Bears. Introducing your week four starting QB Brian Griese.
6. Denver Broncos. Defense flies, the running game is great, and I know a girl who says Cutler is hung like a horse.
7. Washington Redskins. Portis is healthy. Jason Campbell isn't awful. Santana Moss I hope dies in a fire
8. Baltimore Ravens. Defense is still top notch. Kyle Boller could win the mayorship of pittsburgh for all he's done for my steelers
9. Cincinnati Bengals. Giving up 51 points was an anomaly. You know it.
10. San Diego Chargers. This was almost unthinkable in preseason
11. Green Bay Packers. Yeah I know.... Brett Farve just inked a deal with depends. Aj Hawk kind of reminds me of AC Slater
12. Houston Texans. Oh my god how did this happen?
13. Tampa Bay Bucs. Mark it down they are the 6th seed out of the NFC
14. Seattle Seahawks. I guess QB's who look like accountants just don't bring enough to the table. Also that Super Bowl win was no fluke. The D is soft and the O is softer
15. San Francisco 49ers. Wah? weren't they supposed to suck on defense?
16. Detroit Lions. Very dangerous wide outs. Also Jon Kitna is my second cousin, and he tells me that he saw Calvin Johnson walk on water
17. Philadelphia Eagles. I thought the eagles addressed their wideout issues two years ago? Oh. That didn't turn out well? My bad.
18. New Orleans Saints. Reggie Bush just announced he'll be a contestant on dancing with the stars. run to the light young man.
19. Carolina Panthers. Steve Smith is good. The rest of the team? They resemble my toilet the morning after 30 beers.
20. Jacksonville Jaguars. David Garard, good move guys
21. Arizona Cardinals. Larry Fitz is my Bill Brasky
22. Tennessee Titans. Forget about them trust me.
23. New York Jets. Is there anyone in the country who was shocked when they cheered pennington's injury?
24. Cleveland Browns. Thanks for the help brownies.
25. Miami Dolphins. Joey Porter looks like he has a little left in the tank
26. New York Giants. week ten headline. Introducing Interim Head Coach Kevin Gilbride. (if they pull Bill Cower out of retirement next year I'm killing someone)
27. St. Louis Rams. No pace equals last place.
28. Oakland Raiders. Is JaMarcus starting yet?
29. Minnesota Vikings. Wow they are really bad. Tavaris Jackson plays qb like he can't wait to be benched
30. Buffalo Bills. 1 first down in the first half...yikes.... What's the over under on the number of fingers that cripple can move? I put it at 3
31. Kansas City Chiefs. At least we know their players have active poll dancing futures
32. Atlanta Falcons. The D would be better if it had a couple of vick's pit bulls on the field. Also Joey Harrington is a gay icon

What Frustrates Me About Mike Vick

2007-09-06T09:42:00.000-07:00

Ok so I don't care about dog fighting. Not even a little bit. In fact if anything I"m pro-dog fighting. This may sound odd especially because I have owned dogs my whole life, and I would never want any of them to be involved in dog fighting. Sure it's somewhat gross, and the animals are mistreated. This happens to lots of dogs. Have you ever been to a dog shelter? Those places are shit holes filled with dogs people bought, and then cruelly abandoned. They torture these dogs by leaving them in cages in a room full of dogs. A higher stress dog environment almost couldn't exist. How about racing dogs? they have a useful track life of about 2 years. The very cream of the crop (maybe a percent, but I have no proof of this) are bred. The rest are usually sold to places that do medical experiments on them until they die. Culturally, we don't value the lives of dogs very highly. Nor should we they are animals just like cows (though cuter and less delicious). Onto Mike Vick. So the dude fought dogs? He didn't molest children. He didn't get caught with an illegal firearm. He just made one animal fight another animal. So what. We kill lots of animals every day. Just look at your shoes. Animals are all over those bitches. Somehow because many of us have owned dogs this guy gets crucified. His going to jail is a joke. He owned those dogs, the property he fought them on, and he harmed no person with his actions. Leonard Little a defensive player with the rams killed a bitch while driving drunk. He never missed a season. After killing the bitch he then got another dui. Still no suspension, or even sizable jail sentence. Yet somehow Mike Vick gets black listed by the NFL, and a hefty jail sentence? Oh did I mention that the dogs they took from Mike Vick are all being put down? they are.

One of my many flaws

2007-09-05T12:25:00.000-07:00

I don't deal well with dumb people. I just struggle with it. Why? I'm impatient? I hate teaching if there isn't sex involved? I'm not detailed oriented enough? I'm not coddling? I wish I knew why, because I deal with these people every day. Every day I become silly amounts of frustrated by various peoples inability to accomplish the simplest of tasks. Yeah, I get your argument that I wouldn't be very smart in a hunter gatherer group, or whatever tribal nonsense you throw my way. I disagree I'd invent motherfucking fire. Beyond that disagreement I don't care about those lives. In a modern office environment I could do every job excepting c-level positions and accounting stuff. These things require unique skills that I don't have. However, if I give you something to input in a database it should almost never get fucked up. This is the crux of why I don't deal well with dumb people. If I know that I can do something without a problem, and I'm greener than central park, then you should be able to as well. I don't understand why this isn't the case.

Women you think are attractive, but are not

2007-09-04T13:57:00.001-07:00

It drives me insane. Why can't everyone simply realize that my universal standard of beauty is correct? First I'm going to give you a handful of celebs who fit this classification, and then I'll break them into archetypes we're all familiar with.

The Obvious (and famous)
1. Paris Hilton
I know that she's universally reviled so this barely is worth mentioning, but she's not very good looking. I mean she has that petite head, and a decent body, but I saw that she wears a size 14 womens shoe once, and that terrifies me
2. The Olsen Twins
Oh how the mighty have fallen. These two at the age of 16 held the hearts of men everywhere. I started college at Allegheny, a little nothing school that was good for drinking. My freshman year a fake website went around the campus like wildfire. This website was supposedly an article in the NY times saying the Olsen Twins were coming to my school. It set the campus on fire. Now I wouldn't fuck them with Harry's dick.
3. Salma Hayek
Ok so I hate Frida Kahlo. I hate that a depressed person who did almost exclusively shitty self portraits is almost certainly the most famous women painter how about Okeefe or Morisot? They are both miles better, and they don't suck. Oh she's also famous for being a commie. More to the point Salma is not a good looking lady. Very gangly hardly any proper curves, and a face that only Sandy could love. Who's Sandy? He's the zoo keeper, and king of all zuss.
4. Keira Knightley
Having sex with her would be like banging Skeletor
5. Anyone on Desperate Housewives not married to Tony Parker
Ok, Eva is hot. The rest of these cougars? not so much. I mean I can practically see Teri Hatcher's Labia (they've become conscious hence the proper noun) coming out of her Capri pants.

The Archetypes
1. Rich Girls with too much time and money
stop with the $400 facials, and the more expensive accessories. If you weren't so fucking ugly you wouldn't spend all that time trying to make yourself look like you belong in Star magazine. You don't. Yes your bag is nice, and yes you still must develope a personality
2. Petite Jewish Girls
Hey! Now that's what I want in a partner, whiny. Also you looked better with curly hair, and no anorexia.
3. Skinny Tall Blond Girl I see everyday
You have no ass, no tits, and an ehh face. I see you every day, and because I'm desperate and pathetic I usually smile and say hello. You never do back. I hate you. Also if Jon tells me how hot you are again I'll lose control over my bowels.
4. Most Slanted Asians (this means koreans, north western chinese, and japanese. I don't know many others)
Ok so you win the hair and skin battle. You lose the ass, tits, personality, and most every other battle. Also I always found it really odd how the asian kids I knew hung out only with other asian kids. I try to avoid jews from sq. hill (or do they avoid me?) why can't we be a melting pot? ok enough of that. You are almost universally over rated. We're talking Chris Benson territory here. Also you all look the same.
5. Most Every Latin Girl I know
So you've got some curves. Good for you. You still aren't very pretty, and you really could stand to lose about 25 lbs worth of those curves. Nice tits though

of vitriol and the world of blogs

2007-09-04T13:50:00.001-07:00

This is a first. In fact, this is several firsts. I am currently at work, and not working. This is not one of the firsts. The first, first is I've never written a blog post before. This may be surprising to some of you as conversations with me often seem like prolonged blog posts. I tend to make numerous losely connected, and usually unsupported arguments, and then bring them to the table as truth. In this blog I will do this exactly. I endeavor to make as many shit jokes as possible and somehow weave them into a cogent enough tale that even my friends will be able to make sense of them.