12.17.2004

12.15.2004

To quote Li'l Kim: Hey! Uhn uhn uhn uhn uhn uhn uhn uhn!

In case you couldn't glean from the precise emotions expressed in the above quote, allow me to translate: I just booked a Fuse promo (Fuse was to be MTV's nemesis until MTV bought them) in which I will be a "Goth". I can only assume they mean the music-genre-listener stereotype and not the style of architecture, although I am indeed versatile enough to play both...at the same time...AND I'm modest enough to admit it. FINALLY I have something to celebrate at Christmas, thanks Jesus!!
Actually, should I really be thanking Jesus? I mean, I feel like ever since I portrayed Satan, things have been going my way...and I really didn't read that Shark Week contract very closely. Fuck. Well, I guess I really am driving the bus to Hell. Hope you guys like Tiny Tim and me screaming.

12.14.2004

Hey, yeah, that "Which Friends character are you?" quiz is pretty intellectual...

Moron.

mRNA
You are mRNA. You're brilliant, full of important,
interesting information and you're a great
friend to the people you care about. You may
have sides to you that no one understands. But
while you understand more than most people,
you're only half-there most of the time.


Which Biological Molecule Are You?

12.03.2004

I'll Be Your Dogwalker

Working on a tune for the upcoming film "Tall Like Paul", here's what I have so far:
I'll be your dogwalker
if you let me

This isn't a metaphor I really mean it
I'll walk your poodle, chow or pit
And I won't use the dog to start a conversation
I'm not looking for love this is just my vocation
I'm a dogwalker

Whether the weather is snowing or the wind it is blowing
I will walk your dog
That's if the snow doesn't bug me and the dog doesn't tug me
I will walk your dog

(Just kidding, I'll do it anyway)

If you let me into your heart and house
I'll make sure the dog does not get out
and hit by a car
********************
That's what I'm working with at the moment. I have music for all this so far. Think bongos and a happy snappy cute tune that will make people think I'm not as tall as I am.

Also, keep January 22nd fucking open goddamn it. There's party to be had. For my Birthday (which God has so callously arranged to fall on a Tuesday this year) I am having those I consider lovesexy to Pizzeria Uno's (86th and Lex.) for food and drink and then to the pool hall (86th and Lex.) for pool and games and then to my home (not 86th and Lex.) for loud music and angry neighbors. And just so you don't get the wrong idea, here is a list of people who are not lovesexy, but are still invited, and the reason they are invited.

Katy Gentile
(for use as canvas- if drunk and bukaki- if really drunk)

-because although there wll be no drawing on people for her Birthday, I can assure you anyone that passes out at my party will be drawn on and recieve an extra helping of sodomy at the hands and bone of our local homeless man, Toothless Jose, who will gladly put his brown disease into anyone we ask him to. I will NOT be drinking Tequila at this party (for in depth reasoning click here), so no Tequila, please, thank you.

11.16.2004

Today I watched ducks and sang out loud on the subway. I also passsed over a bridge, but that's not as important.

10.08.2004

Je ne suis pas le fromage très grand, je suis le petit écolier

Oui, it's true. I have been "le fromage tres grand" for years until just recently when I was told by my agent that I am in fact "le petit ecolier". So we all know Nabisco (Lorna Doone, Oreo, etc.). Well the French version (as in the most common in France) is a company called Lu Biscuit (pronounced "BIS-qweet") or, for short, Lu. There is a brand of cookie they have called "Le Petit Ecolier" (which means "the little schoolboy"). They are a small shortbread rectangle with a portrait (in chocolate) of a little school boy on it. ANYWAY, about a week ago, I went to an audition where I played one of these cookies. Yes a talking French cookie with a thick French accent and lascivious manner and now...well, look at the subject.
An interesting side note, on the side of the box of Le Petit Ecolier" there is the phrase "Whenever you need one there is always a luscious le petit ecolier to satisfy you". Well world, if you thought you were feeling satisfaction before...you are about to ingest the whole lovesexiness of the Paulitosphere. Open wide, you grimy dandelos for I shall be your little school boy and you will choke upon my girth.

10.01.2004

I found myself on the subway today staring at the word "Guadalajara".

9.30.2004

Gonna ram it ram it ram it ram it up your poop chute...

So I have extracted some jewels and put them in the "Memories" section. Do you remember the things I used to live with? If not you should check out the "Memories" section. Fucking shit.

Sex Nazis

A few years back, the Nazis, or as I like to call them "bad Germans", were running around persecuting and killing gays and gypsies and other biologically inferior groups. That was bad...at least for gays and gypsies and other human dirt that wasn't spawned from the sacred union of the Tiger and the Turtle. Anyhoo, once Mr. Moustache killed himself, there was a calm that, while it was pleasant, was sure to break someday. Well...that day has come. I have here two startling images being circulated by Neo Nazi factions now springing up all over modern day Germany.


Now, at first glance, these look like simple candy wrappers, but once you delve into the twisted, rotting brain case of the Neo Nazi figurehead (one Beverly Parkerschlitz) you begin to see that these are but the merest wisps of insane cotton in the Neo Nazi tapestry of malevolent megalomanical madness. Now, after almost four thousand years, their reign of terror has begun again. While the first Nazis, or Old School Nazis as I like to call them, persecuted those that were different in favor of the blond haired, blue eyed supermen they were trying to spread throughout the world, this time around they have learned from their mistakes and have "flipped the script" on us, one might say. By analyzing these pictures one understands that this time the Nazis are going for the opposite: a world SO tolerant and SO free that even fruits are encouraged to have sexual relations and form new types of fruit through their unholy sweet congress. Once they have blanketed the world with images like these: pigs and peppers, benches and peanut butter, sand and fax machines, blacks and whites, grapes and clams, bears and pasta, Madison and her own offspring, fish and chips (the American chips, not the British ones) the world will be defenseless against the Neo Nazis and ripe for the plucking. This is not the unstoppable killing machine we were once dealing with, no. This is megajuxtopostioning, ultramixology and uberkonfusion. The enemy no longer uses nerve gas and the entirely ugly and angry sounding German language; this time they are using silly string and made up languages like Pig Latin and Puerto Rican. Ladies and gentlemen, this is the dawning of a terrible new age. The Neo Nazi Age of Befuddlement. In the coming years we can expect to see a gay woman as the King of America, an albino as the Emperor of Africa, a pineapple as the President of Australia...we will see President Bush and Harry Potter impaled upon the same pike, Nigel, hip and under a hundred and fifty pounds, Will will marry a girl that is not only in the same hemisphere or continent, but in the same house as he, Prince will do a song with a tree and then eat it, Michael Jackson will masturbate on children and no one will notice, airplanes will become sentient and learn to swim, Tom Jones will soil himself and a small desert, groundhogs will carry razor wire...once these things and more have come to pass, we shall know that the Nazi Age of Befuddlement has engulfed us. After ten thousand years of darkness, confusion and defenestration, all of existence will pause for just one moment and a single blade of grass will turn into Owl Boy and then He shall lead us to a bright, clean place. Until that moment though, we can expect things to get much much worse. So good luck and remember that your genitals may bleed of their own accord. Keep your hands in your pockets or the pockets of someone near you.

9.24.2004

"Weary" defined

So I was out on an audition today and I decided to bring along Johnny Cash "The Man Comes Around" (his last album) with me because I couldn't remeber all the songs on it. He has a cover of "Bridge Over Troubled Water" with Fiona Apple. The first line is "when you're weary..."
To hear Cash say this word "weary" is to FEEL what that word means. Weary isn't, Oh geez, I've been up since 5am. When he says it, you feel every fucking second of his life. This man invented weary. Everyone was sad when Cash died, myself included, but to really HEAR him say the word weary, I felt better about him being dead. He's finally getting some rest. I imagine if someone could channel Cash and ask what he's feeling now or what he's thinking. I have an idea he would just sigh.
Aside from that song, there are a few other jewels on it. His cover of NIN's "Hurt" makes Trent Reznor sound like a five year old with a skinned knee and the last track, Cash and his whole family singing "We'll Meet Again" bring me to tears every time I hear it. There's a lot of other great stuff on it with only two or three REALLY country tracksm but hey that's why Jesus made track skipping buttons. So pick up Cash's "The Man Comes Around" if you are ever feeling too happy or think you've had a bad, tiring day or if you're just in need of some idea of what seventy one hard years on Earth feels like.

8.25.2004

And now it's even sooner...

It’s 1:38 on 8/23
I think the “important thing” I mentioned earlier just happened. I just ate the best sandwich I’ve had in over ten years. Most of you have been to/ leered at in the deli on my corner. I have a “the usual” there. Pepper turkey, Munster cheese, lettuce, tomato and mayonnaise on a “hero” (a nine-inch white roll). It costs four dollars and is usually enough to stop me from bitching about being hungry. It’s a good sandwich. Not earth-shatteringly good, but good. Some days, very good. Some days not. Every once in a while I’ll get a roll that’s a little stale, some bitter lettuce or a bit of unripe tomato etc. nothing holocaustic and never anything squitterific. But today…oh my scrot and nipples…I had the mother of all sandwiches. It was like Doritos to a stoner, a cold beer to a sweaty redneck, erect black cock to Kaitlyn, Popeye’s biscuits to Jade, artsy vintage S&M clothes being given away by David Lynch, Dita Von Teese and Richard Kern to Christina…IT WAS LIKE EATING THE FECES OF GOD. And now it’s gone. In my tummy, soon to be poop clogging the toilet of my dunney hut. Sadly, this sandwich was a razor...and this razor was double-edged. One, by 4 PM I will have forgotten the bliss that was in my mouth and two, I know that I will never have a sandwich like that again. I should really kill myself now…whilst at the peak of happiness and not after I’ve had the first bite of my next sandwich…reminding me of how happy I was and will never be again.
That job does a number on me every time I go in. You should read the stuff I don’t post here. All plans for this weekend are canceled for me. Possibly the Kill Bill-a-thon will remain, but most likely not. Why? Oh ho, if I told you, then you’d know and then none of you would care…BWA HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH!!!! Now kill them Owl Boy, while they are pondering!!!
Also, Denise thanks again for the graphics. You rizzule the schizzool.

8.23.2004

Neapolitan

It’s 7:23 on 8/23
Today is to be an important day. Maybe not for me, but it will be for someone.
It’s my friend Kristin’s Birthday, her first as a married woman. She is the first friend of mine that’s gotten hitched and the last time I talked to her (the day after the wedding) she was gloriously happy so I guess that’s a start. I really dislike weddings. I find them boring and quite depressing.
There are really only two types:
First, the kind where two people meet, fall in love and get married within six months or a year or something. Then after a few months, one gets tired of the other (Since there are really only two types of relationships. 1. The one where you like the other person more than they like you and 2. the one where the other person likes you more than you like them. Some people think that’s bullshit, but really stop and think about it. Even though the shifts might occur several times a day (or even several times in the course of a conversation), and be so minute it seems 50/50, but it never actually is. And soon it’s 51/49, then 54/46 and so on and so on until it’s clear who’s who in the dynamic.) and they either learn stuff about each other that drives them slowly (or quickly) apart, or there’s some huge cataclysmic event that explodes the flimsy-in-today’s-cynical-society bond of marriage. One cheats on the other or turns to drinking or drugs, or the pre-existing problems are intensified and magnified by the sudden insular closeness of the marriage and the drift begins.
The second type of marriage (says the man who has been married five times to three women, written two book on the subject and been lecturing about it for four years) is the kind that happens after years of the people getting to know one another, dating, living together, making surethe other person isn’t a nympho, a crackhead/dealer, boozer etc. They get married and discovered that they know everything about each other. No surprises (or one enormous terrible surprise, like finding a fair collection of semen-stained Polaroids of children crying). Then the cute quirks of the one person become teeny tiny little nuisances and, over time, grow into huge, glaring, atrocious anomalies. Then everything falls apart.
And sitting in that church during that long and meaningless-to-too-many-people ceremony I think, while mouthing some response to an invocation made by the priest (standsitstandsitstandsit), “I wonder who likes who more”, “I wonder how long they knew each other before they got married”, “I wonder if the bride has the groom’s kid inside her right now”, “I wonder if I actually just saw the maid of honor/best man wink/smirk at the bride/groom”.
The wedding I went to about a week or so ago, I found out, cost my uncle (father of the bride) $45,000. By the by, he is the proud father of eight children, four married, four to go (one next June). $45,000. That’s about 2,250 DVD’s. 3,000 plus CD’s. That’s 75 months of rent at my place…and it was spent in three days.
But back to the ceremony…It’s true that the bride and groom often look dazzling/dashing (unless they are an ugly/fat couple who will inevitable spawn ugly/fat offspring), but, while sitting in the we’re-doing-this-more-for-our-parents-than-for-us ceremony, it isn’t too hard to picture the groom getting a boozy blowjob from the stripper that was hired for the bachelor party, nor is it hard to picture the nervous-as-hell bride who had a few to drown the butterflies in her stomach collapsed on the elegant bathroom floor, her $7,000 snow-white dress covered in champagne, bile and partially digested hors d'oeuvres, nor is it hard to picture the bride and groom looking dismayed in bed when they find that marriage doesn’t make the orgasm any better. Then again, I’m sure that it’s super special for all the virgins out there…all five of them.
Seriously, by the time the everybody-is-zoned-out-until-they-hear-the-words-“I do” ceremony I am crying. Why? Because I’ve seen this relationship wither and die in my mind before they’ve even put the a-year-of-my-salary rings on and the fucking wedding becomes more depressing than a funeral! In many ways, a wedding is a lot like a funeral. An emotional funeral, if you will. Or a Funeral for the Future for two special people. Every cloud has a silver lining, except the one that stretches from here to the horizon, on which sits a graveyard with two headstones…in the shapes of hearts.
From somewhere else in my head:
At about 6:34 this morning I was dressing for work. Got everything on but my shoes. I put them on, tied them…then stopped. Untied one, tied it again. Untied it once more, retied it. Then I did the same with the other. I recommend all those who read this (that’s FOUR! Count ‘em FOUR people!!) to do this the next time you are putting on shoes and have a moment to appreciate it. You’re fingers seem to have tiny brains in each tip, that’s great. You’re feet and therefore your whole self feels more secure, that’s great too. And finally, you can look down at your tied shoes and KNOW that you have accomplished something. No mater how the day turns out from this point on, you have accomplished SOMETHING. Sweet, sweet sassisfakshun!
And from yet elsewhere:
The “party” on Saturday. So Kaitlyn, Lisa, Becca, Jen, Natalia, Jade, myself, Todd and his friends showed up over the course of the evening. In all honesty, the high point of the evening was going up to the roof. I was gung ho about the shindig then I wasn’t, then I thought no one would come because the weather was shitty, then a few hours before the event, I was stoked, but which each guest arrived a creeping numbness when had consumed me wholly by the end of the evening. I went to bed feeling dismantled and reassembled improperly.
I’m looking forward to tomorrow, the final season of Futurama comes out on DVD. Then, next Tuesday, the final season of Invader Zim comes out on DVD. Then, eh, I’m sure I’ll find some square peg.
*************************************************************
I made the last entry in the second book of my journal last night or the day before. I’ve been writing in it since seventh grade and I haven’t really written anything worth reading over all that time. I mean, yes I have this on-line journal, but seriously, like I’d ever put the real true feelings about people, places and things here. People who do that are looking for attention or trying to say or do something in a roundabout way. It’s not hard to buy a spiral notebook and confide in that.

8.20.2004

Welcome to the Machine


Here’s a(nother) glimpse of my inner churnings and bubblings…
************************************************************************
It’s 12:33 AM 8/19/04
There’s this security guard here, Arrington (or maybe Herrington) and he is FURIOUS.
The phone rings: “Man, what the fuck!!”, there is a knock at the door, “Shit, what the fuck!?”, Somebody asks him to hand them something, “Nigga, what the fuck?!”
Also, his back hurts. How do I know? I’m NOT…a doctor (but I am a real Worm….) But Mr. Arrington has this subtle manner in which he expresses himself.
Someone says, “What’s up?” “Man, my fuckin’ back hurse!!”, the same phone rings again, “Shit, my fuckin’ back hurse!!”, a panel starts beeping, “Nigga, my fuckin’ back hurse!!
Has he seen a doctor? No. Why? Because “if I see a doctor, they’ll take one look at it and give me muscle relaxants (Note: He did say “muscle relaxers”, but I respect the English language, even if we did turn “aluminium” into “aluminum”, “colour” into “color”, “night” into “nite" etc. It’s better than turning “hurts” into “hurse”, “You’d better leave that shit there” into “Ya bedda led dem shiz dare” and “Hey, what’s up?” into “Gloopy goopy glurp?” and so on… ).” Why hasn’t he gotten muscle relaxants? Because then he’ll have to see a doctor. He’s like a whiny broken record trapped in a Mobius strip. And I am in his orbit. It is pretty interesting though; big, burly black man puling like a bitch with cramps. I can only hope that his continued refusal to go to a doctor and get something to shut him up will result in his spinal cord snapping and him losing all use of his big, burly black cizzock. That’ll fix his wagon.
It’s 3:24 AM, 8/19/04
Walking back to the Hospital from my home, I was assaulted by thousands of crickets and the overwhelming scent of Nature. Walking between the black expanse of Central Park and the chthonic-lit castle-like Hospital is always strange and sometimes I sense a genuine presence behind me. Thinking about all the bad deaths this place has seen some post human unrest is to be expected. About a week of so ago, I accidentally heard a patients dying. A code was called late one night on the 6th floor of the Hospital building. The proper authorities were called to assist. A few minutes after the call, a light on my board went on and I asked if the resident needed assistance. I heard some strange noises , but no response. I asked again. More strange noises. Nothing but noises. I asked a third time and heard and angry young male voice yell “No! No assistance! Nothing-“ then the light went out. I wrote down the time in the log and double checked the room number. A moment later, we received the call that the code patient had died. I noted the time of death and the room number and realized that the room I had just heard from was the room in which, according to the doctor’s notes, the patient had just died. The button to call for assistance was hit by the attending doctor by accident allowing me to hear the last efforts of the doctors to save the patient and the patient’s last efforts to live. I was thinking about this as I walked back to the Hospital at 3ish in the morning. Directly in front of the entrance is a rock garden with a statue of the Virgin Mary. Swallowed up by the insectile soundscape, looking at the light of a Lovecraft monster on the Madonna, thinking about what I had witnessed a recently, I was unable to suppress a shudder. Did Jesus ever think that centuries after his death, statues of his mother would creep me out? Why the hell not? Hm.
5:53 AM
Huge major update!! Mr. Arrington just made a phone call to someone. In a nutshell he asked this person (whom he called at 5:51 in the morning) for some “little yellow pills, I don’t know the name” for his “twisted back.” He’s asking this mysterious drug-wielding stranger so he doesn’t have to “get a subscription.” I can only assume he meant “prescription.”
On an unrelated topic: I loathe those Wendy’s commercials with that fat fucking bastard. The TV commercials are bad but the radio spots are exponentially worse.
“The Bart, the.”
“Well, no one who speaks German could be evil.”
Are you still with me?
8/20/04 3:24 AM
It’s like I’m surrounded by three stupid parrots. Bilingual parrots that can’t speak any language correctly. And it strikes me: How can the nerve center of a huge health center in New York City have such inarticulate morons working here? What if there’s some huge disaster and someone needs a clear voice? Lives could be at stake because these people are too lazy to pronounce all twenty-six letters of the alphabet. THERE’S ONLY 26!! I was expected to know the capitals of all fifty states in fourth grade and I did a damn good job for someone who doesn’t use combinations of them to form words every single day! It’s like a stupid tumor killing my brain. Fortitude friend, fortitude…
So I get’s off work at 7 am as usual. I am awake at 11:40. Why? Did I set an alarm? Is there a dog in my bed? Is Jade confused and horny? No, no and maybe one or the other. Actually, there is a dragon farting right outside my window. Upon further investigation, it is a huge fucking crane carrying things from a flatbed on the ground to the roof. I started typing this stuff to wait for it to go away and now it is gone. I just wanted to let you all know that no matter where you live; nothing, NOTHING is worse than waking up to a dragon farting and then changing itself into a crane and lifting things up to my roof. Except living in Jersey. Now it is gone and I am going to back to sleep back to again. To back to.
But first, at 5:11 or so this morning, my phone rings and it’s Alan. From 5:11 to 6:30ish or so I talked with him about life, love, Jennifer Eccels, the price of teabagging in Chinese whorehouses, how “girth” in the new “width”, the Coriolis Effect and its effect on Jade, the same effect that it has on coconuts and some many things that might or night not have actually been discussed. Either way, it was one of the most surreal conversations I have ever held, mostly due to sleep deprivation but who knows for sure? If you do, please send a self-addressed stamped envelope to:

Please Kill Me, My Brain Is Bleeding
42 Axon-Stripped-of-Myelin Lane
Exposed Dendrite Township
Mobius Strip, 17230

8.16.2004

I said hip hop a hippie a hippie to the hip hip hoppa you don't stop....

You never stop. Ever. This was a long weekend. A very long weekend. Lots of food. Too much food. Too much family. Christina hates Catholicism; I GET IT. Working late shift this week. Need to buy DVD's to watch. Bored. Need...something. Grape soda? Maybe. Will finish "Kickin'" video this week. Maybe. Four shots left/ Denise...where you at with the book thing? Going to drink grape soda. So I just found out today that TMBG is having TWO shows at Irving Plaza on October first (Friday) and second (Saturday). I was going to a Lovecraft thing at the Knitting Factory, but sorry H.P. you're dead, TMBG are alive...and Kickin' hahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahaha ahh ah shsdd ashf khflkhaliwerfrfuurf qlwkejrh wekrjh w hvvhvhhvh v v 8 8 8 7 8 7 h hdsdsidf dsf dsfhaberdasher

8.12.2004

I'm in PA for a few days. NO RITUAL SUICIDES WITHOUT ME. If you make it past this weekend without killing yourself or being taken out by some colored individual, next Saturday evening there are tentative plans for crazyfun. And dickfish.

7.28.2004

Feelin' mopey?

Of course you are! Your life sucks and you know it (Note: If you are pretending you don't know it, everything follwing is twelve times more sad)! You're stuck in a dead-end job with dead-end co-workers and when you're done wasting ANOTHER 8 HOURS OF YOUR ALREADY SAD LIFE, you go to some dive where other soulless zombies like you congregate to try and drink away the sadness and pain of your everyday lives! Then you go home to your overpriced and under lit shithole of an apartment where you try not to openly hate your likewise dead-end roommates that make you want to KILL YOURSELF!!! BUT THERE IS A SOLUTION!!! And it's right here... http://www.trevorvanmeter.com/flyguy/ You'll thank me in the morning if you aren't dead yet.
Also, the TMBG show is Friday at 7:30 at the Prospect Park Bandshell in Brooklyn, NY. You take the Q train from 14th street to Prospect Park. Doors are at 6:30 and although the show is free, there is a suggested donation that you don't have to pay. Bring a blanket and a lunch and show up early to spend some tme with the tallest and most Australian people you know! Religion will NOT be discussed. See you all there except for Kaitlyn and Jen who are hosebeasts.

7.24.2004

Sokol Auditorium...Auditorium, Sokol Auditorium...Auditorium...PARTY INTHE NIGHTTIME!!!

Yeah, so tonight should rock. I called B.J. for the rules and guidelines for Fotch. Oh yes, Fotch. As fun to say as it is to play...
The plans that were rough have begun to show edges...namely:
1. A movie (most likely Kevin Smith in order to play a Kevin Smith Drinking Game)
2. Fotch.
3. Psychedelic light show.
Also, looks like me and 7 girls: Natalia, Jen, Ang, Jade, Lisa, Kaitlyn, Christina (9 if Jill and Beccah wear their ovaries on the outside and show up). Seriously, if I knew any straight guys that were in town I would invite them but all I got is Alan (in D.C.), Todd (in some abandoned TB hospital), Mike and GC (drunk already and in Brooklyn), Twevor (kind of a downer and shy to boot) and then there's Phil, Will and B.J., some of the most attractive, undersexed, hairy, swarthy, well-endowed, manliest men I know who are scattered all over the fucking globe. Meh, could be worse, all the girls coming over could be as mofugly as Kaitlyn. Count my blessings EVERY DAY.

7.22.2004

I took Denny's quiz and failed. Tried to write my own and stopped after two mediocre questions. Had an EXCELLENT and undisturbed 8 hour sleep after I returned from work this morning. Happy dreams about some party in a large house. Lost of rooms, and a general feeling of happiness and good. Portable DVD player works like a charm for speeding the hours away at work. Looking around at the people I call friends recently I feel there is a lot of sad in the air and I wonder what in the hell is going on with the Great Magnet? Where is he pulling my friends and family? To what end. But one must not question its will. Speaking of Will, he is ending his tour in Tiny Land and will soon be returning to France then America (Magnet willing), maybe he'll move here? Hopefully yes. Now, I am waiting for the webmaster person from the TMBG live show download site to add some shows to my list. Can’t wait for the 30th. Going to rrrrrrrock.

7.20.2004

Yes, my Gate Keeper

Soooooo......I'm plotting out a shot list for a video I'll be shooting with Chris and Jade for the TMBG song "It's Kickin' In". It will be very literal. In it, I will be wearing a suit, Jade will freak out and Christina will be disaffected. We will be scouting out YOUR homes and props for locations and stuff so be prepared. You'll get a credit in the vid and a hug...a naked one...from me. We'll need a nice bed (Christina Andrews...mmmmmyes?), some nice bookshelves (New York Public Library...mmmmmyes?), some blank spaces (Fordham University Studios...mmmmmmyes?), a classy resturant...hm, I was think of my roof for some reason, but then again, it is 2:41 AM. It will be done on Super 8 with some post production done on Pro Tools so it looks like the Canadian Comtemptist, Ross will be contacted. Should be fun and, if I don;t get distracted and forget about it, actually created. You know when I think of all the great ideas that I actually fleshed out somewhat and then just stopped, I feel a stab of anger and acid reflux in my guts. Firehead, my web site (which will have a new video ANY DAY NOW), my career as the Tallest Man in the World (I stopped well beneath the required height...) and a whole bunch of stuff that hasn't been touched in so long I've totally forgotten about it...man, to quote Ian Dury, what a waste.
And now, a note on Pepcid AC and Immondeum AD. First,, for those that don't know, Pepcid AC (Acid Control) is a medicine you can obtain over the counter that eliminated acid reflux and heartburn (which is actually acid reflux) by absorbing the excess stomach acid from your stomach and Immodeum (although I am spelling it wrong) AD (Anti-Diarrhea) is a medicine that can also be obtained over the counter that stops diarrhea and all shit for that matter from exiting your anus. For the record, they both work and pretty well, but they both have side effects that are closely linked... Pepcid reduces stomach acid which in turn means your food takes longer to digest and therefore longer to excrete and Immodeum (I don't know how exactly) stops you from shitting for a while, sometimes a few days even. Long story short, if you took both Pepcid and Immodeum, you wouldn't shite for about a week or so and when you did you would destroy the toilit. I've never tried this, but I have taken one or the other at one time or another and linking the side effects would be hilariously terrible. Good night.

7.19.2004

Journal update!!!

UPDATE UPDATE!!! UPDATEY POO!! FERT! NUFF! TEAT! I think I'm going to get a portbale DVD player. The new TMBG album and EP are spectacular if not a tad on the short side. Life is good. Let's rocket.

7.07.2004

I am now logged in...

And feelin' fiiiiine. Just in case anyone was wondering, Craig from TalentWorks...is a fucker and in about an hour, I will have to pander to him and act like he is my massa. Whatever, this is the life I choose and because of it eh, whatever.
So there is an Australian in my apartment. I'm trying to find out how or why she is here, but with that accent I can't make out one word in forty. Something about a "dag"? I have NO idea.
Why does today feel like a bad day? It might be a combination of things that never really happened. Dreams that result in a bad day. Very strange. Getting the urge to buy things again. DVD's...mmm...
Although I will HOLD OUT, I have already purchased the new TMBG album which should arrive in the mail next week, so I CANNOT buy things. Then again, why not? Because Paul, it gives you a false sense of accomplishment. Yes but, it gives me happiness and I live life to enjoy and be happy and if buying DVD's makes you happy, then what's the problem? Well, I don't know, I just feel like you're kind of fooling yourself into thinking 'hey, I left the apartment today and bought something, let's dance,' you know? There's more to life than buying things. Yes, true, BUT if DVD's (at least at this point in my life) create happiness for me then WHAT is the problem? We'll finish this later... That means you're going to hit me, right? Only if you're good. Oh, I'll be good. By which you mean... Bad, yes, by which I mean bad. Nice. Then again... Yes? What does it mean to be good or bad? Hm. Good question. How about this, after we discuss this first matter and after I hit you, we'll discuss that. Good idea. Hey, maybe we can buy a DVD? ...maybe...you big softy...
Bastille Day is soon and there shall be BRUNCH!

7.05.2004

Lays...and ginnymin....

My Satan commercial is officially on the Discovery Channel. I have yet to see it and probably won;t because I don't have cable, BUT since this was a well put together production, I have the number of the guy to contact for a copy. I feel SO sexy.

6.25.2004

Just found out that Shark Week starts Sunday, July 25th at 8pm. Peel your eyes til then for a glimpse of my sex.

6.24.2004

Welcome to the Paulitosphere

I have this strange knack of being really easy to stay friends with. Allow me to elucidate...I haven't seen my friend Erin Sweet in years, but when I go to Florida and we hang out, it's like a saw her yesterday. Same thing with other friends from high school. Basically, no matter how long it's been since I last talked to them, the rapport we shared is almost instantly revived. It's like no matter how far away from them I am...I am always close to them.
Well, I had me a revelation. And would you be surprised to know is has to do with my height? NO. You would not.
Because my height is so...heighty and I am so tall, I have realized that I inhabit my own section of the Earth's atmosphere. It is called the Paulitosphere and it is the reason that even after years of not contacting someone I can immediately jump right back into the swing with them. Because I am always in the swing with everyone. Additionally, some guy recently achieved some sort of zero gravity in his private plane (this is a third hand account, from someone to Phil to me so it's a bit muddled...) during which time he opened a bag of M&M's and had them all floating around. He described this feeling as "touching the Face of God". What he did not know is that that was the Paulitosphere. So from this moment on, I shall be known as the Face of God.
I will now eat hot dogs for dinner.

6.23.2004

6.20.2004

Ok, just to let y'all know; they have started running a Shark Week teaser (a clip of water and blood or something along those lines stating "Shark Week is coming") and after a quick check on the DC website, last year Shark Week started the first week of August. Look for my commercial after the 21st (Monday). Tape it if you can because I do not have cable and of course, let me know if you catch it. Yea.

6.18.2004

Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name...

As promised, here are some shots from the set of the Shark Week commercial (NOTE: If you cannot see the pictures and a password thing pops up on your screen the username is "shark" as is the password). These were all taken on and around the set; a dilapidated amusement park on the Jersey shore. A few quick words about Asbury Park, New Jersey: It is a creepy, broken down little town that has about 600 people and 56 pizza joints. We stayed in a hotel built in 1924 that looked like something out of a Lovecraft tale. We saw the Stone Pony and all agreed that Springstein should have killed himself long ago. I was terrified from the moment I got there to the moment I left. Onto the shoot…
For some reason the director, Christian, wanted Satan to be dressed as a blinged out old school gangsta…maybe he hates Black people? Who’s to say?
First, this is the night before the shoot at this crazy restaurant called Insano’s. Why is it crazy? Because I asked the waitress for a burger, she paused and then responded with, “There’s really nothing on the menu even close to a burger.”

To my left is Michelle, who did costumes. We hit it off immediately. She reminded me of Katie from Wet Hot American Summer in like 15 years. To my right is Rick (a PA) then Keith and Craig, these guys were my makeup team. These are the only straight makeup artists in the world. That thing I’m holding was on the table. What you can’t see it the hearse parked right outside the window. Fucking creepy ass Jersey town…

The guy on the right is the director, Christian. Although you can’t see in any pictures of him, he has one of the largest lewd t-shirt collections in the tri-state area.

This is Christian and the producer, Jeff at 3 in the morning, drunk off their highly creative asses, getting ready to call it a night and get ready for this 5 am call time. Idiots.
This just one of the partially demolished buildings near where we shot.

Here are some shots of me getting Satanic.



My bling.


Now, most of you know to be pasty white. Or, as a certain swarthy Brazilian might say “fish belly white”. Yes. True. And I intended to keep it that way. Every moment I was not on camera, I had a PA named Zieda hold an umbrella over my pale, demonic self. Hey, that’s what PA’s are there for.


While I was on camera, I was doing beach things that were funny because they were out of character for Satan…I guess.




For some reason, there was a large wooden cross on the beach where we were shooting. Christian and I brainstormed for a few minutes about how we could encompass it into our chicanery. We thought maybe I could be laughing at it, pissing on it, nailed to it but eventually we decided to leave it out just in case some of the right wingers at the Discovery liked God.

And now…Soulmasta S. Diddy

If you will check the properties on this picture, you will notice that it is number 1666. Someone has a sense of humor…
Again, I don’t know when (if) this will be on the Discovery Channel, but when (if) I find out, I will let you know.
On another good/bad note, the long forgotten Baby Kermit the Frog talking doll is NOT being shipped to the U.S…except for the one they are sending me. I should be getting it at the end of June, beginning of July. Since there will be only this one, you will all have to come to my apartment to see it. For people like Lisa and Christina, that will not be a problem, but for people like Will and all my other friends in Thailand…you might have to take the train…

6.17.2004

You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and then youhave my acting career thus far.

Good news/bad news time...bad news first...so, it slipped my mind until last night that my NBA commercial might never be shown. Why? Because the three teams mentioned in it are the Mavericks, the Oilers and the Kings. For those of you who know nothing about basketball, these three teams have one thing in common…none of them made it to the Finals this year and since my commercial is for the Finals…well, remember that headline about Dewey winning the Presidency? Yeah. So you’ll never see that on TV or ever since unreleased commercials are never shown for legal reasons that suck. Thanks, God.
Onto the good news…remember that Nike short film that I was convinced would never see the light of day? It has seen the light of day. Thanks, Satan. http://www.gawker.com/artofspeed/pages/015995.php#more (along the right side of the page is a list of the directors and their short films, mine is titled “One Muscle” and is directed by Greg Brunkalla).
I’m sure you’ll all notice I am credited as “Paul Gryet”…uh…yes, my new stage name, as none of you know, is Paul Gryet. So we’ll hear no more of it. And here is a sexy picture to make you wet.

6.15.2004




Prince


Prince of Darkness
Anyway...I just got back from the shoot in Jersey today and it was mad fun. More details later, maybe.
Now...the NBA thing...it should be about 30 seconds and it is a parody of those "Best Of" CD's. Walt Frazier is in it, but it is not animated (there is another Walt Frazier commercial that is animated apparently). You should look for this on mainly TNT and ABC, although it should pop up on CBS, NBC and Fox. If you know what I look like, you will know me when you see me, there was no hair or makeup used.
The Shark Week/Satan thing will appear somewhere (definitely Discovery Channel) after June 21st. Check the Discovery Channel web site for Shark Week dates. I should have some pics from the shoot up soon and you can see how I have made the real Satan a total bitch.
And now...foody poos.

5.08.2004

Long day. Tired to my bones. Here's something from before.
------------------------------------------------------------
Interesting Words
Tweed
Squiggle
Notch
Bag
Retch
Treble
Twinge
Twill
Jaw
Name
Dent
Seldom
Belch
Child
Tempt
Funk
Goat
Groove
Orgasm
Blubber
Technique
Lucid
Tactile
Silver
Licorice
Tuba
Fuck
Nozzle
Mud
Virus
Clammy
Motion
Zesty
Chester

4.29.2004

Addendum...

I just took a closer look at the "wedding" page and noticed that Blake and Michelle plan to name thir first child Bort. This is why she gets a journal entry, people.

A Moment for Michelle

Now I know we all make a lot of fun of Canada, but much in the way Ginny redeems the whole nation of Britain for me after that useless spam-purse Melissa took away all the glamour, this here friend of mine does the same for Canada.
The first time I knew of Michelle was in my 9th grade Honors English class (taught by Mr. Jakubisin, a crazy nut in all respects of the word) on “poetry day” where that redneck fuckwad Matt Dukes brought in some Clint Black lyrics or something really stupid like that. I had brought in a clip from “The State”, namely “Fragments” and a recording of “This Poem Sucks” by Michael Myers from So I Married An Axe Murderer. There was this new girl in the back and when she rose to read her selection (James Whitcomb Riley’s “Little Orphant Annie”) I noticed that on the line “An’ the Gobble-uns ‘ll git you e’f you don’t watch out!” she said “out” as “oot”. At first I thought…”oot? What the hell is that?” And then I realized…”Whoa…she’s Canadian…cool.” At that point in my life I had yet to meet and Canadians and the fact that there was one in Orlando, Florida? It made no sense to me. Her and I got to know each other through the Debate (where the smart ones went) and had many misadventures with Seth and Aaron. Some which must be recounted now:
Once, on a Debate trip to some place, Michelle and Katie Reid came into my hotel room and smeared Marinara sauce (from our cheese calzones) all over the toilet in my bathroom in the hopes it would look like menstrual blood.
Another time when Michelle had just gotten her driver’s license and took me to Best Buy to pick some CD’s up and I kept screaming “WATCH OUT!” and the like to try and get us killed; later that same day I remember her entering a one way street from the wrong end and being very frightened.
I remember when her and Aaron and I played Truth or Dare and she made me kiss Aaron. Another time when her and Aaron and I played “What Body Part Am I Touching?” And yet another time when we all stayed up making a really shitty project for the school Physics Fair. Fucking worthless Lego, defying the god damn Laws of Physics.
There was the time her and I saw the X-Files movie and burst out laughing when the Well Dressed Man came into the room and said “I’m sorry I am late…my grandson broke his leg.”
Then there was the first time she visited me in NYC. I met her at the bus station (she had taken the 4 am to 7 am bus) and she told me she had upchucked Raman on the bus. She had a sad pride in the admission and it was priceless. The next time she visited NY she arrived with Aaron and we all had fun except for the fact that the pot use was ruining Aaron capacity to remember our wealth of in jokes and such.
That trip was the last time I saw Michelle and recently I looked her up on-line and found a picture of her at some conference, looking smarmy. I was about to call her when I found out that Aaron had just called her after a long period of time and I thought that would be too strange. So anyway, at this moment, Michelle is planning to get married to an ex-DJ named Blake. However…I happen to know this is a sham marriage. And Michelle did a very clever thing: she sent me the wedding web page letting me know the where and when so I can crash it. Excellent. Road trip anyone?

Here is her picture and don’t think that the red eyes are an effect of the camera, see Michelle is a vegetarian (who has started eating fish) so she has demons inside. That’s aboot that. Oh, and here is the "wedding" web page. www.blakeandmysh.ca Please send Ramen, Kraft Mac & Cheese and rat food.

4.22.2004

Funk Master Me

God damn. What a funky day. So I was jerked from my dream featuring Katrina and Katie Reynolds (who had aged to look JUST LIKE HER MOTHER and who had become a real estate dealer) to my phone beeping at 6am. Why? Because today I was to suckle from the swollen teat of the Coca Cola Company. I headed out before the sun was up (fuck you all, it was really creepy) and trained to Brooklyn. I headed for Spectrum (the disco from Saturday Night Fever). I sat for hours enjoying AMAZING FOOD from Kraft Services and finally, after a delectable lunch I was called for on the dance floor. Long story short, I danced on the same floor that John Travolta danced on 30 years ago. I caught a Coca Cola Light and hit the fucking pose. It was one of the most amazing days of my short life. I also made a few friends that hopefully you will all meet. Pete took pictures and hopefully we will get some. Amazing day. Also, I am digging most of the Tweaker album, so you can all stop worrying. Now, I am off like fruit from a tree.

4.21.2004

And fuck the guy who created html.
BUSY FUCKING WEEK. Full of ups and downs and etc. I shot the NBA thing last week, went to my first fitting for the Coke thing on Saturday, then rehearsal for it on Monday plus another fitting later that day, I shoot on Thursday and then Saturday I go into rehearsal for the next reading of Women of Athens (this musical that's cool), same with Sunday and then Monday, one more rehearsal then the reading at 3 p.m. at the NYTW. I also found out the Coke commercial WILL NOT be shown in the U.S., but rather Spain and Portugal only. Hm. Well...if I ever move to Spain or Portugal I am set as far as pussy and Coca Cola Light. The shoot tomorrow is at Spectrum (the club with the lighted dance floor used in Saturday Night Fever). I get to hit the Travolta "pointing at the sky" pose. Aw yeah. In the past week, I picked us the Fifth Element DVD (thank you again, Alan) and the Hudson Hawk DVD (thank you Paul). Kaitlyn was forced to watch Fifth Element and didn’t like it. So I hate her MORE, if that’s possible. Yesterday I picked up the new Tweaker album (which I was REALLY looking forward to) and at this moment, less than 24 hours after my purchase, I am very disappointed. Hopefully it will grow on me like disco fungus. I am ready to leave my job at the Roundabout Theatre now, and all I need is to secure a part time position at the hospital. Once I do? Oh boy...I have never been able to burn a bridge for real before...I think I might like this. Alright, I'm going to buy Usual Suspects on DVD now because A) as of right now, I am in the money and B) buying things makes me feel like I've achieved something and therefore makes my feel less useless. YEAH! YOU CAN KILL MY BODY BUT MY SOUL IS ALREADY DEAD! WOO! ...dot...

4.16.2004

As I walked down the street today, I passed a small child. For just a moment, I thought it was a midget and I had the brief, delicious image of three midgets walking towards me, minding their business and suddenly, I grab each one in turn under the arms, lift them to my face and bellow "HHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!". That kept me grinning all fucking day.

Knives out...

"My name is Prince and I am funky."
I submit, for everyone's* consideration, a challenge to propose the best Prince lyric, ever. Hurt me...

*"everyone" will most probably include myself, Rev. Philip Wiliiam Fortes Tucker and Dr. William James Paul Pomerantz VII, but I would love to be surprised...

In a zip lock bag...in the freezer...

Hey, so at the urgings of people, I have decided to put this up on live journal (not that the other two people that read this won't find out eventually). Last week I got a call from my agent and was informed that I had booked not only one commercial, but two. The first shot yesterday and it was a promo spot for the NBA finals. I played a rocker and this was the most fun I have ever had. When the commercial is shown (around June) you’ll all know what I’m talking about.
The other commercial is for the new Coca Cola Light (the European version of Diet Coke- that tastes much better apparently- coming over to America soon). That is going to be in production from the 17th to the 23rd and I don’t know when it will air. But I WILL be disco dancing and that’s all anyone needs to know.
One of the best parts of this is that my bud from Fordham (who is also with my agent) got the Coke commercial too. So we are going to bust a move 70’s style AND get mad fat cash for it. THIS IS THE AMERICA I WAS PROMISED.

4.10.2004

Can you think of anything softer than clouds? If so, I don't want to hear about it...

4.04.2004

"Rosebud...I mean...SCHWING!!"

Never before have I actually been happy about that spring forward, fall back thing until last night. It was 1:58, then 1:59, then, BOOM, 3am. Granted, that made it only a little less hellish, but I will take what I can get. I gave Phil a call in Miami and charged the rather large bill to the hospital, but I’m okay with that. We spoke of may things…we figured out what animals we would be, then, finding that way too easy (it took about 3 minutes) we decided to figure out which historical/political figures we are. In the end, we decided that Will is a Golden Retriever or a St. Bernard, trustworthy, sleek, helpful, and very hairy. Phil was a jungle cat, something slinky and dark and swarthy, very swarthy, a puma or jaguar or lynx or panther, you dig. I myself was a duck-billed platypus. No explanation necessary. As far as the political/historical figures, we figures I was the Roman Emperor, Caligula, who, aside from making his horse his chief advisor, would also take swims in a pool filled with little boys would were instructed to nip his naked body like small fish while he was in it. Again, no explanation necessary. We discussed Cardinal Richelieu for Phil but couldn’t make up our minds. We then debated about Will for awhile eventually agreeing that he was far too nice to be an actual figure from history, so we were trying to figure out which mythical figure from American history he best resembles. We never actually nailed it down, although William Tell was a forerunner. Along with that interesting little moment we also discussed which of us will die first and why. VERY enlightening. Then there was this:
***
1:38 AM 4/4/04
So, this is weird. Every late night/early morning shift I have at the Hospital, there’s this guy, Jardine, I think his name is, who pokes his head around the corner of my switchboard and gives me this sly, knowing look as he hands me a Styrofoam cup full of ice. Yeah. A Styrofoam cup of ice. Nothing else, just ice. See, that would be a little odd but for that knowing glance he gives me. As if he’s saying, “Oh…you know…” or “Yup, another shift, another cup of ice…” And sometimes I wonder if he would be angry to know that as soon as he leaves the room, I always throw it out. I don’t think I’ll ask him.

3:09 AM 4/4/04
I have three problems with “Purple Rain” (the movie and the music). First, no one ever makes ANY comments whatsoever on how he is dressed and secondly, people are always saying that he’s a terrible musician because his songs make no sense to anyone but him. That’s just not true. They are all very straightforward songs. Then the song “Darling Nikki”: it ends on a such a sad note like he’ll never see her again, but he clearly says, “I woke up the next morning, Nikki wasn’t there, I looked all over and all I found was a phone number on the stairs, it said ‘thank you for a funky time, call me up whenever you want to grind’. He can call her anytime, so why is he so bereft? I guess he’s just a sensitive, sexy, easily upset man. Hm.
***
And! I got my snazzy new t-shirt yesterday. You should have SEEN the jealousy I was getting from all the playa haters. But, I told them what I always do, "don't hate the playa...stop acting like goddamn cavemen...EVOLVE, FOR THE EMPEROR NEO CALIGULA COMMANDS IT!" Caligula don't take no shit...from no one, except my advisor, Barrington also known as the Vice Emperor Bersy Boo.

3.31.2004

Just how much I rock...

Since you asked...if you hop over to Barnes & Noble's web site (http://music.barnesandnoble.com/search/product.asp?userid=2XVOX8SME0&ean=655173103524) you will see my review of the new They Might Be Giants EP. For those of you who don;t care, fucking die. Also, this Monday night (4/5 there is a squad attending a later performance of Eternal Sunshine etc. Get in touch.

3.27.2004

In Memoriam

Today I am updating my journal in memory of a great man who has recently left us.
Philip William Fortes Tucker
1980-2004)

A few months ago, Philip was attacked by timber wolves whilst in his home in Miami, Florida. He was quietly practicing strategies for Robo Rally, his favorite game, when a dozen of these shaggy, half crazed wolves approached from all around him. He was able to eat several of the wolves and maim many others but before he could finish the job they disappeared, leaving him barely alive. He was taken to a nearby hospital where his condition was upgraded to stable. Sadly though, during his recovery, the remaining wolves, dressed as friends and well-wishers visited him in the hospital and put bleach into his IV, initiating a slow and painful death.
We will all miss Philip and we know he is escorting angelic strippers to their cars in Heaven...or being sodomized by demons resembling Madison Murphy in Hell, we'll never know for sure. Either way, I'm sure he's surprised.
Before he died, Phil carried on a very full and eventful life in 23 years. He was conceived when two sexy comets hit one another. Although the resulting explosion destroyed several star systems, it did create a being that was later named "Phil" by the Owl People who found him. While he was with the Owl People, he became one with them and learned many of their secrets, most of which he will take with him to Heaven or Hell respectively. After being asked to leave the Owl People for convincing many of their women he was gay just to see what would happen, he went to many, many countries such as Brazil, Britain, Ireland, Scotland, Spain and several others in order to further convolute his bizarre accent. Once he had decided that his accent was appropriately muddled and sexy, he arrived in Florida in 1996 or so. He then began role playing. Then the wolf thing happened. A full, full life.
We can all be assured that Philip's only regret was that no one else was an interested in Robo Rally as he was. Rest in Peace.

3.21.2004


Joel Peter Witkin photographed the dead. He would use illegal channels to obtain recently dead John and Jane Doe's from morgues so he could pose them as he wished. This is one such dead model. I find the simple sitting pose with the black bags over her head makes for a very distubing emotion coming from this picture. Witkin created a new genre of photography that was dubbed "deviant photography". I was looking at this picture today and felt connected. Possible I see myself as the model, inert, sitting quietly in a room with a bag over my head, waiting for the medical examiners or anyone to find me and create some impetus. I can hear a noise, but I don't know what it is. Maybe whatever it is is waiting for the right state of putrifaction to start eating me. Who knows.
4:48 on a Mobius Strip
the labored breathing
of the biased Jew
the confused ramblings
of Joe Franklin
the painful songs
of the 30's and 40's
the inexplicable churning
and grinding
that comes from all around me

this is not saturday night/sunday morning
this is 4:48 on a mobius strip
people kill themselves all the time
for Joe Franklin
if he claims enough of our souls
he will live again
he ought to be stopped
but i am lulled
lulled
LuLLed...by three L's
/^\
I had left my notebook at the hospital so I went back over there today to find out that one of the operators had a heart attack and the head of the dept. is away for four weeks. This means a lot more work/money for me. Then...things will be better.
Like a record with dust in its grooves.
I'd say I'm on a 23 degree slope.
"with your long blonde hair and your eyes of blue
the only thing i ever got from you
was sorrow"

3.15.2004

Vous es tres belle, mama, girls and boys...

I did not go to the Prince orgy last week because it would have been hollow and pointless without two very important and lovesexxy people, so instead, I gave due to Prince in my own way. For my Birthday this year one God among men bestowed upon me a VHS copy of the Prince directed film, Under the Cherry Moon, in which Prince plays Christopher Tracey, a hustler living in Monte Carlo. The soundtrack is the Prince album "Parade" and features a lot of Prince songs no one has ever heard such as Under the Cherry Moon (a very sexy song), Do U Lie? (a whimsical yet sexy song), Girls and Boys (amazingly funky/sexy song), anotherloverholenyohead (very sexy, very funky), Venus de Milo (the powerful instrumental), and the heartbreaking Sometimes it Snows in April which I can't even talk about or I'll burst into tears. Along with these sexy unknown songs is one that might ring a few sex bells, namely Kiss.
Aside from being the world's best singer, dancer, dresser and lover, Prince is now officially the world's best actor. In fact, everyone in this film is the world's best actor. The one downside to the whole film is the amount of lovesexxy. For a film starring the sexiest man on all plains of existence, this film weasn't very sexy. Granted, there were some very sexy parts, like Prince in a bathtub, Prince dancing with some woman and Prince playing a piano and giving "the eyes", but I thought it would be a lot sexier. Honestly though, I blame the editor. He was probably so exhausted from ejaculating thousands of times during the course of watching the raw footage that he just used bad judgment and edited out a lot of the sexy. Well whatever, he's in hell for his crimes now. Next step is to find a copy of the SEQUEL to Purple Rain, Graffiti Bridge and make it mine. I feel sorry for everyone who can't grasp the whole of Prince, I really do. Your lives will never be full.

3.11.2004

WE ARE GOING TO THIS

Wether or not you are aware, Prince has been inducted into The Rock N' Roll Hall of Fame and tomorrow night there is a party in honor of him. It's at a club on 39th between 5th and 6th. ten dollars at the door with the below flyer. If you don't go to this, you are cut the fuck off, why? A. It's for Prince and B. this is the first time EVER I have actuvly wanted to go to any club ever. So make your choice.

http://keistar.com/gallery/031504.htm

3.09.2004

Sin is in!!

Okay blasphemers! I was reflecting on sin the other day. Sin and the 10 Commandments and how they relate to me and I relate to them as a ...what...lapsed Catholic? Recovering Christian? I don't know. And so I ran through all 17 (the 10 laws of God and the 7 Deadly sins, I decided to skip over the 7 Cardinal Virtues cuz they are outdated and no one I know exemplifies any of them, but that isn't your fault, it's mine for having such terribly damned friends...) and thought it would be interesting (time consuming) to write something about them and their relation to my self.

1. Thou shall not have false gods (don't worship things that aren't God)
As far as actually worshipping other gods? I have never brought a virgin to an oracle, I have never drunk wine then fucked a goat for Dionysus and I have never eaten a urine soaked communion wafer, so I think I’m good on that one.

2. Thou shall not take the Lord’s Name in vain. (don’t say “God” in an irreverent fashion, i.e. God damn it, God hates you, oh my God etc.)
If I’m going to hell for this, I will see 99% of the world there.

3. Thou shall keep the Sabbath holy. (go to Church at least ever week and observe the stuff you are supposed to observe on the Sabbath- no business, no working, no meat etc.)
I did this for about 14 years straight (and was bored out of my scrotum EVERY MOTHER BEATING SECOND. Since I left mine parents home I think I’ve been to Church maybe a dozen times in the past five years.

4. Honor thy father and mother. (do what mom and dad say, no matter what)
Between 1995 and 1999 (while I was in those “troubled years” I developed an intense hatred for my father and his illogical, old fashioned ways. I found that the further away from him and his rules I am, the better my life is. And that’s as good a reason as any to visit Will dans Frances and Jade dans Australia. Honestly though, once I was at college and he really couldn’t affect me directly anymore things improved, but if this is a damnable offense, then count me in, who wants barbecued soul?

5. Thou shall not kill. (don’t kill people...dumb ass)
Aside from the occasional insect, I think I’m good, but then again…I hate Kaitlyn a WHOLE LOT but I think if I killed her, God would understand the whole lesser of two evils thing and give me some merit points for doing what he was going to let happen painfully over years and years with alcoholism, drug abuse, an eventual addiction to cigarettes and scorching STD’s acquired from black men she’s fucked in order to find “the good one”. So, I guess the answer is “not yet.”

6. Thou shall not commit adultery. (don’t “play baseball” with anyone who isn’t your spouse)
Oddly enough, the only person I know who isn’t damned already is Kaitlyn. HA! Just kidding, you’re fucked, Jungle Feveress. Aside from a handful of people, I think everyone I know is toast. Oh well. Pass the love butter.

7. Thou shall not bear false witness against thy neighbor. (don’t lie)
Let's just say "yes".

8. Thou shall not steal (na'mean?)
I think we’ve all stolen something at some time or other. Kaitlyn, for instance, has stolen my heart…and she will burn in hell for that offense against me and God.

9. Thou shall not covet thy neighbors wife (keep your dirty mind to yourself)
10. Thou shall not covet thy neighbors’ goods (keep you dirty mind to yourself)
These two are the same, pretty much. If you have ever been jealous and wanted something that wasn’t yours, welcome to Hell. Yeah, I’ve done that. This commandment is an excellent segue into the Seven Deadly Sins…

Whereas I was recounting if I had broken them or not, with the Seven Big Ones I am going to delve into just how fun they are.

1. Envy
We have all wanted something that wasn’t ours. This is not a fun sin. Wanting things we don’t have reminds us that we don’t have them, and that is shitty. It makes us go out, buy ice cream and eat til’ we are fat.

2. Gluttony
This is a really fun sin. It’s fun because you get to eat pizza. Every time you don’t really need the extra slice (pizza, cheese cake, pie etc) and you take it? Glutton. Granted that the next day you might regret it (oh GOD, look at my thighs!), but then you don’t have to worry about Gluttony anymore, you Vain fucker…

3. Vanity (Pride)
This isn’t a very fun one either. It takes time (hours to make yourself look banging) and money (for the cosmetics and clothes one uses to become banging) and in the end, the better you look, the more of a sinner you are! AND this sin comes directly from another sin! I ate a lot last night so now I have to do something to make myself look better. This is a clear case of damned if you do and damned if you don’t. Again, unless you have a lot of time and money this is not a fun one. But if you DO have a lot of money…

4. Avarice (Greed, you layperson)
Something like Gluttony, but not as fun. Greed is more like, “although I have enough, I want more so I will always have enough”. “Enough” in this case means “more than you” and that’s why it’s worse than Gluttony and more or less fun depending on how spiteful you are…

5. Ire (Anger, you high school lunchpeople)
This is a complicated one. It’s not fun because you are made angry but something bad, but the release that you give into feels good, which can be better then Gluttony and Greed combined. Where Gluttony is more of a passive sin (eating pizza), Ire is more of an active sin. Slapping someone, hitting someone, killing someone or saying something in Ire is considered a sin. That release that comes with hitting someone or whatever, that’s the sin…

6. Lust
Fun fun fun til’ her daddy takes her T Bird away! What in the world is better than hitting the skinz raw style? Nothing jumps to mind. Oh! And what about how after you have sex, you just lay in bed eating pizza? mm…post-coital pizza… Anyway, this is, in my opinion, the best sin. True it feels good to punch someone you hate or to obtain something you’ve always wanted or to eat that FOURTH slice, but it just feels so much better to bust a nut (or fry an egg, respectively). And when the pizza is done? What’s next? Jump out of bed and run a mile? HA! You need to sleep off that sex pizza…

7. Sloth
Have you ever woken up at 6 to your alarm blatting and then turned it off, rolled over and thought I’ll just make something up later….then you’ve given in to another one of the sweetest sins they got, Sloth. Sloth is almost up there with Lust. It’s not as fun as Lust but it’s easier. You simply give in. Although Gluttony is a pretty passive sin, this is THE passive sin. Envy means you WANT that car, Lust means you FUCK that black guy, Gluttony means you EAT that piece of cheese…Sloth? You don’t. You just don’t.

And now the really interesting/depressing thing: All these sins are linked. One results in another which results in another etc. If I may, a scenario: You wake Saturday morning, disagree with the idea of Saturday “morning” and tuck back in for three more hours. You wake Saturday afternoon, find that more agreeable, get out of bed and begin to get ready for tonight. After 6 hours of making yourself look definitively banging, you are ready. You meet your friends at a restaurant where you head for the bathroom as the check arrives in order to skip on that little unpleasantness because if you don’t have enough money for drinks tonight, it’ll suck. After you all leave you go to a club where a few members of the opposite sex come up to you, you don’t consider them attractive enough to dance with and you blow them off, then you see the hottest piece of ass coming towards you, they start dancing with you, you grind like Darling Nikki and enjoy every second of it. Then a more attractive member of your sex comes up and swiftly removes said hottest thing from your life forever, you make sure to mutter curses under your breath and hope that they both choke on each others fluids. You then find the least unattractive of the unattractives that approached you earlier. You decide it will make you feel better to dance with and turn on this toad then dump them, you asshole. BUT…after a few more drinks, you notice they look more attractive than you remember, a few more, they have become the hottest thing in your life so going home with them seems like pretty good idea. After a sweaty, fumbling fuck session, you order Chinese food (or pizza), eat then go to sleep soaking in your own fluids.
Not a typical night for everyone I know, but typical enough. Either way, it’s a clear enough example of how one sin leads to another. But usually things don’t happen that way. It’s a smaller scale. Like you were planning to go to a museum or for a walk in a park, but instead you smoke weed and eat a pizza, or you want to order a pizza but you’re too stoned or tired and you just fall asleep. That was actually witnessed by me last year. My fat roommate Alex was going to go out and pick up meat and cheese and chips for a “snack”, but he said he was too lazy. It was amazing. I actually saw Sloth defeat Gluttony. And how often have you known that if you go out one night, you’ll probably find someone to at least make out with but rented a movie and stayed in? Amazing. It’s clear if we take a moment to look at our own lives that Sloth is the most powerful sin for most people. Lust might be the most fun, but it requires more work and we are Americans. We were made for Sloth…and Anger…and Gluttony, can’t forget that. And Vanity. Greed too. Not Envy, but that’s because if anyone had anything we didn’t we’d just move there and take it. And seldom Lust because we’re just too god damn lazy.
A final note on the ten commandment section for all you “good people” who are thinking I haven’t done but half of those…the Bible considers a thought as bad as a deed. For example, thinking that it would be great if someone just fucking died? That’s number 5. Thinking how great it would be to bang that homeless chick you see everyday, number 6. You get the point. And speaking of the point…hm, well I don’t know, I just wanted to write about the commandments and sins today. How about you reading this? What’s your favorite sin? Which commandments have you not broken?

Did you know that they found Spalding Grey dead apparently by his own hand? That sucks.
I’m done.

3.08.2004

You all need to eat this for breakfast.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Co5DZl50OeQ

A Note

Taint stains wasn't directed at anyone, I just like the sound of it. taint stain, taint stain...mmm...

The difference between clever and clever clever

Ever wish you were traveling to strange places with inpronouncable names? Ever wish you were in training to become a Jedi? Ever wish you spoke just enough German to order beer and coax women into bed with you? Welcome to Viacarious Town, you lazy taint stains. http://pomerantz.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_pomerantz_archive.html#107866659767558252

3.07.2004

Blent.

Spi-DONG! Pidow!! Stepa! Dooty gowp! Stemply gwan! Gshink cloot. Blerny guut. Nargh warf! Spelt spelt! GLOG! GLOG!! GLOG GOD DAMN YOU! Grut. Mmm...grut. SPU. Benky dink powter...seppy seppy seppy seppy...BING!

3.05.2004

Something funky

Although not NEARLY as arousing as the original, Foo Fighters has recorded a very rocking version of Prince's opus Darling Nikki. Check it out, feel it up, rub one out.

I am one who smiles at the sky...

The other day I was riding the Subway (the underground train that runs all under New York City) and at one stop about a dozen teenage Asian girls got on and started chattering with each other. After the initial shock of it wore off, I found myself swallowed up by this amazing sense of peace. It was very good.

3.01.2004

I am in a very big house. Twice before I think, but this time I am only on the second floor of maybe three floors (the first time I recall being there it was in a large drawing room in the front of the house with large windows letting in the dusky light. The room was filled with things that used to belong to my dead grandmother-her thick Oriental carpet her large flowered vases-and the room smelled of her. It was a very stifling room and the feeling of death was almost palpable). Very spacious hallways lead into very spacious rooms. I'm here to get my guitar and once I have my guitar, Laurie Metcalf (actress who played Jackie on Roseanne) finds a painting that she painted and gives it to me to take out of here because she is angry that it isn't being appreciated. I am now burdened by a guitar (in a worn rectangular case) and a rather large oil painting (no frame, just the canvas, there are elegantly scripted words on the canvas but I cannot read them) and I am ready to go. I find my sister in a room staring at something and I tell her it's time to go. She doesn't respond and my mother tells me that she was ready to go but now she wants to listen to some band whose name I can't remember and that means that we have to keep a close watch on her because she gets depressed when that happens. My mother and I walk into a bright and foreboding room. It is a child's room. On the bed is a pile of fur with four legs sticking up in the air. I set down the guitar and painting (or perhaps earlier I gave them to Kathy or Laurie Metcalf) and pet the pile of fur. It is a cat. And one of those cats who do not liked being petted. It has light brown fur at its roots but ichor black fur at the tips. It looks like someone dipped it in oil. It has dark green eyes. Very angry eyes. As soon as I pet it, it begins to bite and scratch my hand. I then pull my hand back and exit the room. The cat follows, angry it’s been woken up. I pick it up and hold it to myself and it continues to thrash and try to bite and scratch me. I grab it by the scruff of its neck and throw it away from me and then I run into a different room to close the door to get away from it, but every room I enter has a large pile of books stopping the door from closing. The cat is scrambling towards me and rather than get stuck in a room with the cat, I wake up.

2.29.2004

Be still mmine beating heart...

On Friday...I met THE ONE. Not the Matrix One...but the ONE One...her name was Emily (I think). Although loquacious, she was not fat. It was love at first sight (on her part at least, it took me a few hours). She was scared of me because of what Tyler had told her of me, but despite the fear she was enamored. Then I was invited into the Spanish soap opera that fell apart a bit once the other 35 people (90% of which we did not know) showed up. Before they did though, I was made more beautiful than every woman in the world by the combined efforts of Tyler and my eternal love. The night was...glorious. We had planned to meet in the park and dine the next evening under the watchful eye of Madame Tyler where I planned to spill a pickle broth on M. Tyler's dress so I could have an awkward moment alone with my love...I would have given her my ring and my heart......but.....it was never to be. She and M. Tyler had other plans....plans with two other women....Mary Jane and her cousin La Thargy...and now Emily is gone...like smoke...weed smoke....from their risen clogged pipes...or maybe Tyler was afraid she would steal me from her and decided to sabotage our love...god this is boring me.
Anyway, I got my keyboard yesterday so I am going to have lots of fun. I need topics on which to write songs so I can film them and put them here on my web site (not that we aren't still celebrating Kaitlyn's birthday but shit. Yeah, so the whole point of this update was that I have a keyboard. Rock on.

2.24.2004

Things are definitely awry...


So, I haven’t slept a lot in the last few days. Sat I had a 7 pm to 7 am at the hospitalia, and when I got home I only slept from 7:45 to 1 because my sexy body and its sexy internal clock got some issues. Then at 4 or so on Sunday afternoon Josh came by and I jumped around and climbed on things for a few hours. Sunday evening I checked my messages and found out I have an audition bright and early on Monday so there goes that chance to sleep in. After the audition I decided let’s go home and sleep. Once home you realized that you haven’t eaten in a very long time. Sleep or eat. Eat or sleep. I decide to eat, thinking I was awake enough to rule the world. The moment I sat down at work that day, I knew I had fooled myself. Then…I got home thinking ah sleep…and I was somewhat right. Have another audition today at 2:15 so at least I could soak up some sleep stains. And I did, I woke about 45 minutes ago and IT’S SNOWING. What the shit? I miss my regular sleep schedule for a few days and it starts snowing? Fuck that. This won’t stand. Stop this, right now.
Also, Tyler, have you ever heard of The Questionmark Asylum or the Beta Band? I’m assuming you’re answers will be “no” and “yes” or “no” and “maybe”. Either way, I gots some good shit for your black-craving ass. Rock. I said ROCK.



all gods chillun got shoooooes...

2.20.2004

Worked at the hospital last weekend...


9:04 AM
By the Sweet Smooth Nipples of Jesus the Christ SHUT THE GOD DAMN FUCK UP ABOUT THE SHITTING WEDDING. Ef ah want git made in a chuch, I anie got pay no fo hunnid in sitty fie dallahs an no hunnid fitty fo no REhusal…I have been listening to this fucking women talk on the phone since 8:45 (she’s talking as I write) about how someone she knows is getting married and the church is charging $465 for the wedding…that’s it. It took me maybe 10 seconds to write that fucking sentence. 10 seconds. SHE’S BEEN TALKING ABOUT THIS FOR OVER 15 MINUTES. And when I stumbled in at 7 she was recounting her trip with a group of friends to Sin City (the strip club in the Sopranos). I had to endure about an hour of her retelling the story AS EACH CHARACTER (based on her impression of the other people it seems as if she went with were mockingbird demons from Hell). And when the person she was talking to left and a new one came in…hey! Let’s hit rewind on the Stupid Noise Machine! This time can we have more shrieking? There we go, I think your voice has actually lacerated the surface of my brain, thanks. Fuck you, Alexander Graham Bell. Fuck you for inventing your Devil Talker. And fuck you God for inventing that part of the human brain that makes loud people stupid and stupid people loud. And that part that makes these people repetitive also. And fuck you and your culture, Paul. Why? Because the fucking white man is responsible for making a perfectly good human being, NO DIFFERENT from you except in skin color, sound like they have tube socks in their mouths when they talk. Dr. Clara Rodriguez was right. This is your fucking fault. It’s time I took responsibility. Bruce from the Kids in the Hall is sorry for all the cancer, I am sorry for uneducating (deeducating/dumbening/retarding whatever) black people. I’m sorry for slavery and oppression and inequality and 40 ounces and popularizing saggy pants and mauling English and you fucking name it. Also, I’m sorry I tried to correct my mistakes with violence. It worked at first, Biggie Smalls and TuPac are perfect examples of that, but then things went bad. I shot ghetto lad in the leg, he survived and started limping AND NOW THEY ALL DO IT BECAUSE IT LOOKS COOL! And 50 Cent? Yeah I REALLY fucked up there. NINE TIMES! NINE FUCKING TIMES! FUCK! Which brings be back to the chattering dimwit to my left. This is what they call “irony”. You need a definition? My life. I set about uneducating black people and now I find myself surrounded by them. I am my own torturer. And you know, acceptance really doesn’t make anything better. However, I have a box of Everlasting Gobstoppers here and if she continues blithering about this wedding, I’ll test just how everlasting they are when they are poured, by the dozen, down one’s throat. Only 9 ½ hours to go…

BASIC TRANSLATION
yes = yeh / ya / yu / uh
no = nuh / naw / nu / ung
right = rait
wrong = ron
ten = tin
twenty = twinny
thirty = furty
forty = foty
fifty = fitty
sixty = sitty
seventy = sedinty
eighty = eddy
ninty = niny
hundred = hunnid
together = tuhgevuh
with you = wichu
this = dis
style = stahl
I ain’t here to raaab you = Give me all of your money.

Some part of me wants to hear her speak French…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Last week, I was walking outside and saw the first bud of spring. I saw it again this week and it was dead from the cold. Fuck.

2.13.2004

Good news/bad news

The good mews is tomorrow I am working at the Hospital from 7am to 7pm. Ergo hence thus there would have been only 6 people for cranium tonight, BUT (the bad news) now Kady’s artistic friend Mark will be coming in my stead (do you remember him Kaitlyn?) raising the number from gorgeous, Satanic 6 back to unlucky, unwieldy 7. Fuck life. Just promise me that there will be resolution and comeuppance for his defacing of Kaitlyn’s forehead.
On another channel, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. I plan to pump Outkast’s “Happy Valentine’s Day” incessantly, maybe pausing for some Prince. I love that artists like Andre 3000, Prince and the Magnetic Fields have turned Valentine’s Day from a Hallmark Holiday into something funky and scathing. Fuck your Valentine’s Day.

2.11.2004

Lisa's Questions

1. Of our ten year friendship, which personal joke/story still remains the most amazing/funny?
-I would have to say the Zombie Haus. (imagine those two little dots over the u)I mean, the development of that joke lasted years. I will always remember walking past the haus at night, freak ourselves out and pathetically try not to run all the way home. Everytime I think of zombies, i think of you.

2. Favorite word and why?
-I really like the word Peril. It is so pretty, but means something so bad.
3. Do you find Aaron Gunn attractive? Rowr.
- If I did, i wouldnt be very Smrt, smrt, smrt....

4. You have to sex up either Denise or Kaitlyn, who and why?
I would have to say Denise, solely on the fact that she is not my roommate, i wouldnt want stuff getting weird between me and KY. lol Besides Marc has been pushing for us to have a threesome, and who am i to deny him that...

5.How should Charlie be punished for smoking? You must submit this answer to your parents.
-oh, my parents already know how i feel. First, i would want my dad to cry in front of him again, make him really feel bad. then break all of his skateboards, in front of him. then make him watch some old man get a traechiotomy ( i cant spell) b/c the guy has throat cancer. then make him physically eat the rest of the pack.

Paul's Answer Key

1. I would much rather be associated with zombies than anal warts. Thank you.

2. Wrong. The correct answer was: tweed.

3. ZING!

4. You should totally go to the wall with the threesome idea ONLY IF I can be the third. See how long and hard is dick is then. Ha.

5. I fucking love every part of it. Tell them and I'm sure they'll do at least one of those. The crying is a great emotional mindfucking, it'll flip his perceptions, the skateboards will attach doing something wrong with the destruction of his favorite things and the eating of the pack will make him repulsed by the smell and taste. I think the trach thing is neither here nor there. I believe Charlie has seen Faces of Death, so that won't do a thing. The discomfort must be his. Perhaps cut a hole in his throat? Maybe he shoudl have to watch your parents having sex. OR A THREESOME WITH ME!!! BWA HAH HAH HAH! I'm going to be a great father.

A Big What If by Dr. William Pomerantz (circa 1998)

A Big What If

I was just interrupted in my studies by an important news break: a confidential insider report has revealed to me that a young girl was killed by her father for running up $25,000 in fees owed to the Psychic Network. Not to sound morbidly insensitive or anything, but you just have to wonder about people like that. Obviously, something was wrong with both the father and the daughter. How on Earth does someone run up $25,000 in phone bills? Did she just leave the phone off the hook? Why didn’t any notice beforehand and try to stop her? Did the psychics warn her that she would soon be chopped into 7 pieces by her vengeful, chain-saw-wielding father? Anyway, this strange news break made me thing of a conversation I had early this weekend with Philip Tucker (’98) on the subject of fellow Highlander Paul (’99). The theme of our topic was this: what if Paul was the norm? That is to say, what if the majority of people in this world were like Paul? My guess is that the world would be a very crazy place. In case you don’t know Paul, I will give a brief description of him in order to make this more pointful. Paul is the hulking, lumbering giant you have probably noticed lurking about campus. He is forced to wear special sunglasses constantly in order to restrain his mutant ability to fire high-powered laser beams from his eyes. Paul has no home—he is a drifter, a wanderer, a nomad, a vagabond, call him what you will. For some reason, this creature has made Lake Highland his home. He can often be often be seen kidnapping young children and trying to subvert them to his evil, dark ways. The poor little innocent children will return weeks later, totally brainwashed. No more are they ‘innocent.’ Now, they will run about, screeching in terrible voices, quoting bizarre sources such as Marilyn Manson, and just generally being a lot taller than they were before. Occasionally, these little children will not return at all, but instead their bodies will be found months later, totally mutilated in some pagan ritual. Paul baffles modern science. His body structure is unknown—the material he is made from must be strong enough to support his massive twelve foot seven frame, yet still flexible enough to allow him to bend in all directions like a snake. Countless thousands have been slain by his deadly eye-beams, and many more have been torn apart by his sharp tigerlike claws and fangs. He continues to evade local, national, and international police forces, sometimes living in dark underground caves for months at a time to evade detection. Paul does not speak English, but rather he communicates in the language of the squirrels, chattering constantly while clutching little nutshells in his huge, oafish hands. Well, perhaps, I exaggerate a little. But not very much. Most of that is true. But, it is close enough for our purposes. So, imagine a world much like our own, except that it is populated by several billion Pauls. What the devil would this place look like? My first guess would have to be that it would look a lot shorter by comparison. I mean, that Paul guy is pretty darn tall. Whooo, baby. Yes siree, he is rather on the tall side. Other than that, though, I think that the world be exactly the same. A little shorter, but otherwise the same. Not what you were expecting, was it? You were expecting some weird desert planet, with fleeting shapes scuttling quickly across the horizon, and hideous bird things pecking at wooden planks. But that would only happen if everyone were more like Owl Boy.

2.10.2004

Corrections (fuck you all I'm tired)

Kaitlyn's Questions
4. Aside from me, whom do you hate and why?

Denise's Questions
2. Why were you so scared of Giovanni but so willing to sex up Joel, a perfect stranger?

Jade's Questions
2. What would kill you faster: being stranded in Boston in February wearing a skimpy stripper dress or being stranded in the bathroom of 8F (the one Alex used)?
7. What is your favorite TMBG song and why?

Christina's Questions
4. What's the next sexual arabesque you would like to try?

The first of many...

Kaitlyn's Questions
1. Why do you hate me? I want specific reasons and examples supporting each.
2. Anal? Have you? Will you? Why/why not?
3. Are a drunken man's words a sober man's thoughts? If so, why do you always ask if I'm in love with you when you're drunk?
4. Aside from me, whom do you and hate and why?
5. What do you think Black man semen tastes like?

Denise's Questions
1. If you had your choice, which Tucker would you pick to be your love slave and why?
2. Why were you so scared of the Giovanni but so willing to sex up Joel, a perfect stranger?
3. If you could be insulted on national television by any celebrity who would it be and why?
4. What are your feelings towards erections?
5. Why are you the Butcher?

Jade's Questions
1. WHAT DOES IT MEAN?????!!!!!Sorry.
2. What would kill you faster: being stranded in Boston in February wearing a skimpy stripped dress or being stranded in the bathroom of 8F (the one Alex used)?
3. How do you continue to tolerate my stupidity?
4. Doesn't Trevor look like Martin Short? Why do you think that is?
5. Will I ever get to see you naked?
6. We know your feelings on Linnell, but what about Flans? Would you sex him up?
7. What is your favorite TMBG and why?
8. Where's my kangaroo?
9. What's with Clue...DO?
10. The idea/concept/reality of Vegemite is one of the only aspects of Australian culture that terrifies and sickens me, what in our American culture terrifies/sickens you and why?
11. Want to come and see my new place? You can live with me for a week then Heather then Matt and GC then Trevor.
12. If you could bang just one, who would it be: Phil, Will or myself and why?
13. If you had to kill just one, who would it be: Phil, Will or myself and why?
14. If you had to live with one forever who would it be: Phil, Will or myself and why?
15. What would really make your day if you got it in the mail from me?

Will's Questions
1. Who is Lord over Greater Orlando and for how long?
Nigel Clarke is Lord over Greater Orlando, and has been since at least Christmas Eve, 1999. Some experts place the date of His Ascension earlier, perhaps back as far as when he taught Pele.

2. You have become the Ultimate Deity and have decided to make a planet. Describe this planet in detail in all aspects: environment, inhabitants, vegetation etc.
Will's simple directions for constructing my planet:
a) gather all material in the solar system.
b) pulverize it
c) use it to construct a huge sphere around the sun
d) creatively use heavy materials to generate desired gravity field, where "desired gravity field" means "gravity field sufficient to root fattys to the spot where they lay, helpless targets for the crusading fatty patrol"
e) sit back and wait for a huge meteor to impact the sphere with sufficent force to penetrate its surface
f) watch chaos ensue
g) laugh
h) retreat back to my home planet, which is something like Valhalla, except with hundreds of virgins for my amusement, and giant statues of you, me, and phil.

3. Think about the future.....where are you, Phil and I in the future?
Currently, Phil is trapped in Miami like it were a black hole. Similarly, New York City has you in its evil clutches. However, we will all be reunited in orbital Fatty Patrol HQ when this earth is laid to burnination.

4. Is there ANY WAY I could get you to move into New York City?
Yes, it is possible. You must first get me very rich, then eradicate about 90 percent of the city's population (including the Yankees, that homeless guy, and subway rats), clean up the city, demolish approximately 3 burroughs, and schedule TMBG to play at my welcome party. That would do it.

5. Describe your thought processes from start to finish involving that incident in Times Square at 4 in the morning.
Pre-incident: I am invincible
0.1 ms: This man undoubtably smells bad. Avoid him.
5 s: What -do- I mean, "what"?
6 s: Is he armed?
10 s: Yep, he's armed
11 s: Damn, Paul looks GOOD today.
12 s: Wait, what's going on?
14 s: Oh, right, armed homeless man.
15 s: Hi. Bruce Wayne.
16 s: Focus focus focus focus
17 s: That is definitely a bottle of Snapple
18 s: This bastard is not getting my wallet
20 s: Hmm...I bet I look silly fishing ones out of my wallet
25 s: See ya, sucker!
45 s: Let's go back and vaporize that asshole
Post incident: I am invincible.

6. Do you think John "The Smuggler" Linnell ever got his letter?
I'd like to think that that letter is like a time capsule. Somewhere down the road, at the end of the tour, when the glory has faded, and John is reduced to panhandling the streets of New York, he will miraculously find that letter in the trash. His (mechanical)heart will burst and he will die with a smile on his face.

7. You must kill either Phil or I. Think hard and tell which one and why.
Easy, I'd kill you. With a knife or blunt object. Because I know that I would never be successful, due to your resistant, ferro-plasti hide. That way, you and I could live together, locked in an endless dance of death. I could work on my stabbing muscles, which would better allow me to do the Gun Show joke, which I shall reclaim from Jade. This will help me meet our favorite bands, as it has for her. Knowing the bands we like, they probably won't be too put off by the fact that I am continually stabbing you. Heck, we may even get a place in a video!

8. You must felch either Phil or I. IMPULSE ANSWER!
I must find a dog to train. Why oh why do I even understand what this question means?

9. Here's very big what if...What if I was the norm? A brief description.
I believe I wrote a paper on this in grade 12. As I recall, it was even titled, "A Big What If". Ah, but that I could recover it. To briefly summarize: the NBA is much less popular. Race relations issues are briefly magnified, then a de facto solution is reached. Bowling alleys are constructed out of stainless, dent-resistant steel. The soft drink market is always dominated by one drink, although the identity of this drink changes about once every two years. Pinkie is hailed as a god-king. Geo Metro roofs are raised about 5 inches, and their trunks slightly expanded. Actually, I don't think any of that crap was in the original. John Linnell is deconstructed, his parts analyzed, and multiple copies are built. Do you have that? Can it be posted here?


10. Where do think Derek is right now? How did he get there?
Derek, formerly the leader of the Underground Resistance, killed an older man, and wears his skin. In this disguise, he ran for President under the psuedonym "General Wes Clark". Last night, he dropped out of the race, to pursue a career re-writing the works of great, dead authors. Along the way, he's has some adventures and made some friends, accompanied always by his faithful Saint Bernard, Winston.

11. Same question with Maggot Kid?
Throughout the years, Maggot Kid felt a continuing need to go DOWN. He originally thought this was due to his burrowing maggot nature, however, he has since come to grips with the fact that this is simply a "gut" reaction to his obesity, and to his rudimentary understanding that by going underneath a percentage of the Earth's mass, gravity will be effectively lower. Clearly, this was not a well thought out plan, given gravity's inverse square relationship with distance! However, MK was never known for his smarts. Still, he found a happy solution, and retreated to the Dead Sea, the lowest place on earth. Here, the bouyancy force of the salty water makes him feel spry and nimble, so that he can order deep-fried twinkies with impunity.

12. Why haven't I received a basket of brie and Basque berets?
Because I don't know your address.

13. When are you getting back and what are your plans and where shall the party be?
When am I getting back? Errr... who knows. Maybe August (I graduate at the end of July). Maybe September, if I travel or have to return to Thailand to finish up work after graduation. Maybe Summer 2005 if I go to school in Paris. But the party will be grand, whenever I return. My plans were deterred when Wesley Willis died, but I will not be defeated. Think "WayneStock", but with cooler bands. Hosted by Bruce Wayne. Start planning now!

Christina's Questions
1. What do you hate most about me. No bullshit.
2. If you had a penis, what would you do with it?
3. Whose life story would you like to write/direct a film about?
4. What's the next sexual arabesque would you like to try?
5. If you had to take one human life who would you kill?

Sorry if any of you don't like your questions. Actually, no, I'm not. Fuck off and die and answer these in a timely fashion.