To Write "ATTENTION WHORE" on Her Arms.

Pretty much sums it all up.

"Regardless of the subject, people should not assume they know why other people do things. Cutting is a particularly hard subject because so many kinds of people do it for so many different reasons. When you try to cookie-cutter stereotype ANYONE, they're going to take offense, whether you're talking about volleyball players, alcoholics, cutters, missionaries, you name it. Just boils down to being annoyed by ignorant assholes."

-Some fat bitch from Facebook trying to sound deep and meaningful while at the same time inadvertently being a hypocrite by stereotyping people who form stereotypes.

If there's one thing this blog of mine should make evident, it's a major pet peeve of mine: I tend to hate when people expect me to take ridiculous bullshit seriously.

Today's example of that: Cutting.

For the uneducated, "cutting" is a SERIOUS CONDITION that involves taking a razorblade or other sharp object, and jamming it into your fuckin' arm, because you're depressed. But don't call it suicide! You see, "cutters," as they like to be called (I could be wrong, I'm just taking a stab that they prefer that over what I like to call them: "Fucking lame.") (Oh did you see what I just did there? I said "taking a stab." How can you not love my clever wordplay??) only hurt themselves, to deal with the WORSE PAIN in their lives, such as being dumped, mom and dad breaking up, or their younger sister stealing their eye shadow all of the time. The cutting releases endorphins, which helps with worse pain. Now, in most cases, the "worse pain" these endorphins help with would be things like somebody having been shot, or that miserable season of House where nobody would let Dr. House have any of his pain meds, so he was a major asshole the entire season and started cutting himself to deal with both the effects of detox and his muscle pain. Apparently, endorphins also help deal with the Warehouse not carrying the newest Dresden Dolls CD.

Cutting is the teenaged version of holding your breath and stomping your feet on the ground when you can't have your way. I originally typed "the grown-up version" except most adults cease with this SERIOUS CONDITION as soon as they realize it's hard to apply for a job with "(PREVIOUS EX-BOYFRIEND) = HATE" carved into their arms. This doesn't stop them, however, from associating themselves with cutting. You see, this SERIOUS CONDITION persists through life. So even though they're not cutting any longer, hearing about it or seeing pictures of it can cause a risk of relapse. Or something. Basically, cutters act as if they're on the same level as drug-addicts.

And this is why I can't stand cutters. They're another breed of people who have a self-inflicted problem that they'd rather embrace and flaunt than actually get real professional help for. They get defensive about it if you say that, though, because all cutters are supposedly different and do it for different reasons. Never mind that every time I've heard a cutter open her gaping maw to blather on about why they do it, it's always some word variation of "IT HELPS ME COPE WITH THE REAL PAIN." Then they go on some ten minute strawman argument about how misunderstood cutters are because everybody makes fun of them for being "suicidal" and they're "REALLY NOT!! PEOPLE JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND SO THEY JUDGE US." Nobody with a brain thinks cutters are suicidal, for two reasons:
A.) We know that the kind of people who cut themselves to deal with their life problems are too big of pussies to actually go through with the real deal, and...
B.) Because they won't shut the fuck up about why they cut themselves long enough for any of us to even BEGIN to form the thought process that maybe they're trying to kill themselves. We GET IT. You're IN PAIN AND IRONIC.
What also gets me about the whole "IT HELPS ME COPE" bullshit is the pretentious attitude behind it. Apparently their problems must be WORSE than the non-cutters problems, because they have to cut to deal with it. Obviously, we don't understand them, so there's some really deep-seated shit going on, and we won't ever hear a cutter say something along the lines of "Well, my problems are just as mundane and ordinary as anybody else's, but I'm weaker than other people so I now have an endorphin addiction" because as we all know, admittance is the first step towards recovery... and really, if any of these kids are smart enough to admit they have a problem, we wouldn't have communities full of sliced-open wrist icons on LJ. We fail to see the cutters side of things, but really, they fail to see the big picture: That everybody has issues and we all have to deal with it. Cutters are selfish.

I say cutters are selfish because, in spite of how unloved they feel or act like, they're usually surrounded by people who get upset every time it happens and shower them with attention and sympathy. I'd say that this is precisely why most cutters do this, but I'm already about two sentences away from having my apartment nailed shut with pictures of 15 year old girls' forearms carved with "U DNT UNDRSTND OMG" on them (and you have to abbreviate the words like that because your arm is only so long, and hell, cutting words into your flesh kind of hurts.) I had a friend once, who used to do this shit. Now, this is a while back, probably after I had this delusion that being nice to girls gets you laid, and before I cut my heart out, locked it in a chest and tossed it into the ocean during the ship-fight part of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride in Disney World. So she gets all butt-hurt about a break-up or whatever, and cuts herself. I go into class the next day and beg her to never do this again, I was so worried, etc. etc. etc. All she could do was, without even making a change in facial expression, say "I can't make any guarantees."
This is sort of like getting somebody a greeting card and them showing their appreciation by shoving a dead squirrel in your mailbox. Now, obviously girls like her have problems. One of those problems happens to be that they're selfish. This is precisely why I can't watch Intervention; they show strung out cokeheads and heroin addicts getting sat down by their family and tearfully told they need help. Some of the addicts start crying and accept the help, others are so fucked up they rage all over the place and storm out. People like that have serious problems. Then every now and then, Intervention shows us somebody like a bullemic, who throws a tantrum because their family wants them to stop throwing up in plastic bags and fucking up the carpet every day. I can't deal with that, much like I can't deal with harboring respect for somebody who thinks it's okay to tell their family "No, I'm not going to stop cutting myself. Enjoy the ER bill, whores."

While it may be true that not all cutters do it solely for the attention - and that some may actually be ANNOYED by the attention it gives them (though not annoyed enough to actually cease the action that causes the attention they hate) - the truth of the matter is, you'll never encounter a cutter who ADMITS they're doing it for attention. Furthermore, those who actually do it for the attention, who's to say they aren't developing an addiction that the "real" cutters have? So the line is blurred between attention-seekers and the even bigger morons, and we have this UNFAIR STEREOTYPE on our hands.

So the cutters of the world united to bring attention to this SERIOUS CONDITION of theirs, in the form of "To Write Love on Her Arms." When I first heard of this site, I thought it was the title of some 16 year old's MySpace page. When I checked it out and saw that there was an absence of black-red-and-white line art depicting hearts, x's and mopey-looking girls in Alice dresses, I thought, hell, this is a nice organization with good intentions and just a shittily unfortunate name. Good for them. Then I noticed that an organization like this will at worst, give the cutters more propaganda to litter their LJ's with to show off their awesome way of life, and at best will just give the recovering-cutters and the friends-of-cutters something else to absorb attention with.

The site also has a lot of great comments, such as this:

"thank you so much for this beautiful introduction. TWLOHA is such a great organization and has brought my daughter, [...] so much hope. She has stopped cutting, and now writes LOVE on her arm with a permanent marker --- she also takes that marker to school to see how many of her friends will let her write LOVE on their arms. She recently emailed a word collage to the organization and got some great feedback. She is a beautiful, smart, and talented 13-year-old who expresses her pain and her joy through writing almost on a daily basis. I don't know what kinds of things you need for your research project, but I'm sure that [my daughter] would be more than happy to share some of her writing with you. Thanks for being part of such a fabulous group and for spreading a message of hope."

Yeah, you're welcome, you dopey bitch! I think you forgot the part about how you failed as a parent because your 13 year old daughter is already so miserable she's mutilating herself, and instead of getting her proper treatment, you've given her a permanent marker and yet another reason to get picked on going into high school. Seriously, 13??? That's like, seventh or eighth grade for fuck's sake. How bad of a home can a girl grow up in that she's already this depressed in middle school? What kind of a writer creates a WORD COLLAGE, anyway? That's like something kids make when they're neither artistic enough to do real artwork, and too talentless and unskilled to actually write a real paper. Hell, I may be a conceited piece of shit, but at least I'm not pasting words onto a piece of oak tag. I just talk out of my ass in fragmented sentences on a public blog. Wait until this chick's daughter goes into high school, and starts having "real" problems. Way to fail, mom.

Honestly, group therapy for a bunch of these kids sounds like a great idea on paper. Give the attention whores a way to all whore their attention around with each other, and eventually they may start to fit in and get better - even if they don't stop being fucking annoying. Either that, or it spawns more online communities full of tutorials on where else on your body you can cut so mom won't catch it. Glorifying what a big problem this is only encourages kids to use cutting to identify themselves even more, even if they aren't doing it currently.

The best way to deal with this problem, I hate to suggest, is to just ignore it. No, I'm not saying let your daughter bleed to death all over the kitchen floor. Hell, they're not even trying to kill themselves, right? Let them scar themselves, stop crying about it, stop trying to stage interventions or plastering your girl-friends' lockers with pictures of you all grinning cheesily in a heart-shaped picture frame with BFF's in glittery letters, stop providing positive reinforcement and at the very most, provide negative. If all they're doing is cutting themselves, let them dig that hole to the point where they now have to move onto the next stage in life with a bunch of ghastly marks all over their arms to remind them of what stupid dipshits they've been all these years. Let them realize that all cutting does is make them look stupid and maybe when they mature and realize how much respect they AREN'T getting for doing it, and what's happened to them now, they won't raise their children into a new generation of bastard fucking brats who feel expressing their pain through self-mutilation is normal and cool.

The second best way (arguably) to deal with this problem: Beat the shit out of your kids more. We have enough unloved teenagers punishing themselves to fill a third-world country, maybe if you start punishing them early on, they'll get this "I HAVE TO FEEL PAIN TO GET PEOPLE TO LOVE ME" complex out of their skulls.

Telling me I don't understand, that I'm stereotyping, that I'm wrong about cutters, etc. is all incorrect. This is because I harbor a very simple opinion about cutters, which doesn't delve too deep into any specific stereotype or thought pattern. My opinion is that cutters, no matter what their reasoning or damage is, are fucking lame. To disagree with me is to say that self-mutilation is perfectly fine.

Legalized Weed is Overrated.

My mom called me at 7:30 this morning to talk about three things: Kutner dying on House, my sister not returning her calls, and legalized marijuana.

I don't know why this was important enough to wake me up for, but it led to yet another heated debate on the importance of legalized pot in America. The debate, thankfully, wasn't as hot-under-the-collar as previous ones, mainly due to my loosened attitude towards marijuana (I still think it's stupid, I just don't care nearly as much. Mainly because I realized being strictly anti-drugs doesn't get me laid.) Nonetheless, I still stuck to my guns and was met by several irrelevant strawman arguments by my aging hippy birthgiver, a la "YES BUT DOCTOR'S DISCOVERED THAT NOBODY DIED OF CANCER FROM SMOKING MARIJUANA, WHEREAS CIGARETTES..." style.

Here's my stance: I do think pot should be decriminalized. Nobody should go to jail just for personal consumption of a drug that is all but harmless. I do not think that if marijuana is legalized that the US is going to go to hell in a handcart (THAT ALREADY HAPPENED WHEN THE BUSH FAMILY EVIL EMPIRE SENT OUR SONS AND DAUGHTERS TO DIE IN A WAR FOR OIL. REMEMBER VIETNAM!!!12@) This all being said, I do think that if pot is legalized, things aren't going to be NEARLY as "chill" as the stoners say it will be. If anything, things will become worse... if only marginally.

Here are just some of the arguments behind why pot should be legalized, followed by my rebuttals:

If marijuana were legalized, it would be "safer" to smoke it.

If you're reading this, and you smoke pot, notice something: You're able to smoke pot. It's illegal, and yet there's a bong on your lips more often than there's semen on Octomom's (vaginal) lips. Want to know why this is? It's because nobody cares that pot is illegal. You can go to jail for selling drugs, (as I'm reminded countless times by potheads about how people are GETTING PUT IN JAIL WITH MURDERERS AND RAPISTS JUST FOR GETTING HIGH!!2 even though that's not exactly how it works,) and yet it doesn't stop anybody from growing for personal use, distribution or profit. People traffick weed across the border daily. The war of drugs is pointless, remember? It's going to happen, so legalization (that is, beyond merely decriminalizing weed) isn't going to make people feel safer using it, it's just going to make it that much more available.

What I'm getting at is, people are going to distribute pot no matter what the consequences, either for profit or to prove some sort of point. So what about the shit that gets laced? What about the people who end up in the hospital because they just smoked a shit-ton of angel dust or whatever? That'll stop, because marijuana's legal... right??

Wrong. First of all, there are two fictional scenario where legalized pot would fit into: One where you're free to grow and distribute your pot to all the shiny happy people holding hands however you want, and the more likely scenario where the government places strict regulations and puts their hand in the entire operation. Assuming the government's heart grows two sizes large that day (because you beatniks all trust the government now, right?) and just gives the green light to freedom of growth and distribution of marijuana, how exactly is that going to stop issues of lacing, poisonous insecticides, inferior product, etc? If something is legal, it's going to - at least in the US - be distributed more. So the health risks behind getting high off of somebody's "really good shit" that you aren't 100% sure of, do not lessen. If nothing else, they grow.

Now, let's visit the other scenario - government regulation. The government is going to take care of us! They're going to impose strict laws about how pot is grown, what is used to fertilize it, keep it safe from bugs, prepare it and whatever else. They'll be keeping an eye on what is added to it, if anything, and who distributes it. They will also tax the shit out of it.

Safer weed, right? Well, perhaps. For all the people jumping on the "pot isn't bad, after all, look, it's legal!" bandwagon, going to the store to pick up a pack of Marlboro Panama Reds might keep them safe from randomly having a heart attack and dying. For many, I assume, the idea of buying processed marijuana cigarettes from the grocery store is going to grow old after the initial humor of it all. We're already buying tobacco cigarettes, and the government sure is doing a good job keeping those safe for consumption, aren't they! They're loaded with tar, fiberglass, embalming fluid and whatever nasty shit those pretentious "Truth" commercials tried to jam into our heads. Where's the government regulation there? Potheads can go on for days about this wonderful utopian dream where we can buy our weed at the store, and it'll be freely available to all, and it'll be fresh and organic and 100% pure, and the ingredients will be listed right on the packaging, and it'll just say "INGREDIENTS: NOTHIN' BUT THA CHIBA, MON!" and there will be much rejoicing. Finally, seedy smoke shops can list their smoking devices as "bongs" instead of "water pipes," everybody will be chill and complacent and war will end! Then we come into the theoretical reality of it: Companies producing the marijuana for legal consumption will cut the product down to save money, and add fillers to it - as they do with tobacco - to make it even more addicting. Yeah, sure, a psychological addiction is good enough, right? Except not everybody likes to abuse marijuana, and they especially won't if you're selling them shitty, watered down pot. So make up for the lack of quality with an abundance of addictive chemicals. The government won't care, because they are, after all, taxing it.

Legalize weed, and watch as the tobacco companies try to jump all over the new market it's creating, and then watch as the argument "Marijuana doesn't cause lung cancer" becomes null and void. Then watch as stoners get fed up with the watered-down poison available at the store, and turn back to trying to grow their own or buy from dealers, and we're right back to square A. Oh, you think it'll be legal to grow and distribute your own? Of course not, it's regulated, remember? Suddenly, the pot crowd are criminals again. Oops.

If pot was legalized, the crime rate would drop!

Of course it would, you morons! If you take a crime, and make it not a crime, suddenly everybody who was committing said crime would no longer be committing a crime! It's genius! Unfortunately for this argument, decriminalizing weed would also have the same effect, and I already said I support decriminalization because I pay enough taxes so stoners can buy their groceries with food stamps while using their Subway paychecks to buy pot; I don't need to pay taxes to give them three square meals a day in jail.

There is, of course, the problem concerning the crimes surrounding drug dealing. First of all, if there's any possible way to stop pot dealers from dealing pot, worse comes to worse they just move on to another drug to traffick. Obviously, the average college student with the hydroponics in his closet might not do that, but those kind of dealers aren't the problem, here. The problem lies in the drug circles, with their "territory" and their gang wars over all that kind of shit. Legalizing pot would end all of that, right? They'd admit defeat, pack up shop, and leave each other alone. They'd stop hussling people for money, transporting shit across the border, killing each other and whatnot. 

... or they would, as I said, move on to another drug. Chances are, if they want to stick to pot, they'd just offer something superior to what I can buy at Walmart. Maybe stronger weed (what? Did you think the stuff at the store would get you really fucked up? Really?) or weed laced with stuff, either way, they'd find a better way to keep their market going. We'd be back where we started.

If it was legal to farm marijuana for mass production purposes, it would create more jobs.

Right. Because all of the other farming industries currently available in our country already take pride in hiring and providing decent wages to legal citizens. Mexicans love their weed; open a market in the US that involves farming the stuff, and watch the surge of illegal migrants grow. 

But the government would tax marijuana! And more money is good, right?

Since when are people - the stoner crowd, no less - happy about the government taking money from us? Okay, maybe I'm being unfair with the generalizations, but seriously, I'm on board with something like this generating revenue. The problem is, there are too many downsides to this scenario, and I doubt the revenue will offset it when the likelihood of stoners start rejecting the legal shit in favor of their less-than-legal methods of acquisition.

From a moral perspective, making money off of getting people high and/or killing them slowly is just... well, immoral. If you care about this aspect of the issue, then the argument of taxes should certainly be one for the opposition of legalization.

Marijuana isn't addictive. Cigarettes are. 

People who make this argument fail to mention the psychological addiction behind marijuana - the same type of mental process behind alcoholism. That's right, there's no physical addiction behind alcohol either.

I believe I already made it clear that if marijuana is legalized to the point where it can be sold in stores, there will eventually be a line of pot-cigarettes that are just as legal as current cigarettes.

Oh, and speaking of alcohol, let's cut right to the chase...

Alcohol is far worse than marijuana!

First of all, if we're going based on my opinions alone, go ahead and make alcohol illegal again. I don't give a fuck. The more addicts I get to watch suffer, the happier my black, frost-encrusted heart gets to feel. Sadly, my chances of getting laid decline, but that's precisely why I purchased a fleshlight.

As I just said above, however, alcohol is just as addictive as marijuana in the sense that there is no physical addiction. And don't give me this tired "but alcoholism is hereditary. It's a DISEASE, Josh!!" bullshit, either. It has not been PROVEN that alcoholism is genetic, there is only supporting evidence... and even then, it's not exactly overwhelming evidence, either. One theory psychologists make behind alcoholism is that the act itself may not be hereditary, but rather the weakened coping mechanism behind it is. We can go right ahead and safely say alcoholism is hereditary, however, as people who can't cope tend to turn to addictions anyway, so who cares about the semantics behind it.

My point is, from an addiction perspective, alcohol and marijuana are on an equal footing. Yes, marijuana doesn't kill your liver and it supposedly doesn't fuck your driving up nearly as much (although it can be said there are some alcoholics who have built up such a tolerence that you can't even tell they're driving drunk.) So saying that marijuana should be legal because alcohol is legal is almost synonymous with saying "I'm okay with alcoholism." Am I putting words in peoples' mouths? Why, I suppose I am, but only because nobody wants to admit that they want to supplement one addiction by enabling another.

Marijuana isn't going to solve the problems surrounding alcohol in this country. Maybe at best, they may shift things around a bit. Many people who get high also get drunk. Many people who get drunk also get high. No, not all of them, I won't even say most of them, but a lot do. I guess they're different experiences or whatever. Don't look at me, I'm not trying to figure these people out. I will say that most people who would replace alcohol with marijuana already are doing just that. The others, the "it's legal so I guess I can do it" bandwagon, is another argument entirely.

Fans of legalization propose that drunk-driving accidents and fatalities would go down, as pot doesn't impair you like alcohol does (so clearly, the effects of the two different drugs aren't one and the same.) Well, much like alcohol, the effects of pot, as well as the tolerence, differ from person to person. Add in the factor of pot varieties and you have a number of situations where one driving stoned might as well be drunk. I know plenty of people who refuse to drive after getting high, because they know damn well it's a bad idea. I also know people who get drunk and get high - at the same time. I also know people who drive drunk. Cross all these factors together, include the factor of legalization and you're going to have a higher concentration of people too fucked up to drive, uh, driving anyway. At best, the rate of impaired driving isn't going to lower.

Let's now examine the "bandwagon" argument. There are most certainly people in this country who do not get high only because it is illegal; I've met a few of them. This means the ratio of people on drugs to people not on drugs will shift. We're told how much "safer" pot is than alcohol, so many of these newbies will think it's not that big of a deal. Driving after a joint won't make a difference, nor will going to work after smoking up. It's just pot, after all, and it can't be that bad for us if the government is legalizing it, so why not do it more often? Enough people destroy their own lives with alcohol, just like enough people destroy their lives by abusing pot. Legalizing weed might not bring the country to its knees, but it will increase the likelihood of more people depending on drugs to get through life.

Please excuse my bleeding heart for a moment, but I'm gonna play my violin here. Total legalization of pot will, at some point, lead to at least one person turning to getting high, and getting into a car. They will drive around like an asshole, get into an accident, and kill somebody. Now, that victim's family and friends are all torn up by this loss, there's a funeral, funeral expenses, therapy, wasted money on seyances and bullshit artists who think they can talk to the victim's ghost, and depending on who's involved, even further addictions drawn off of this loss. All because you fuckers have to have your weed legalized. The situation I made isn't the likeliest of scenarios. I'm not such an asshole that I'm gonna say these catastrophes are going to happen all over the place on a daily basis. It may only be a marginal increase of fatalities, but an increase is an increase... all so people can get high.

Sorry for sounding like a liberal there, it just seemed like a good point to make. Legalizing pot because alchol is legal is a fuckin' horrible attitude to have. If they switched shit around, criminalized alcohol (and cigarettes, might as well throw those in, too) and made pot legal, I could see the argument. But alchol isn't going anywhere.

People would be less violent if only they would just get high.

The hippies love to paint this picture for me, that if everybody would just smoke a joint, hold hands, sing shitty folk music and participate in free love, the world would be a better place. Well, it wasn't a better place in the 60's, because your bullshit way of life fails. Free love leads to herpes, folk music is fucking awful and led to all of these countless indie bands thinking they're artists because they can croon into a microphone and edit it improperly, holding hands transfers diseases when it's done between hippies who don't wash themselves, and smoking a joint? Let me tell you about a group of people who are big connoseurs of smokin' the reefer; they're called rap artists. Yeah, those people aren't violent or angry AT ALL. 

I still don't get why some people want everybody to be high. It gives you the munchies, lowers your judgment and makes you act stupid, and also causes lethargy. Sure, some people become focused and come up with some incredibly creative shit, but all drugs can have some upsides to them. I know I could probably clean the shit out of my apartment if I was on meth, but it's still bad for me.

And no, I am not comparing pot to meth. I'm not an idiot. All I'm saying is, just because some people get shit done on drugs doesn't mean everybody is going to.

Any argument that begins with "But in Amsterdam..."

I don't give a fuck. We are not Amsterdam. We are not Canada. As much as I love and respect my country, we are a culture full of undisciplined ingrates, who for some reason just can't get along. Perhaps it's our "melting pot" mentality, of mixing many different people together, and shouting about how "free" we are in America might give people this sense of entitlement. Either way, what's good for some countries isn't necessarily good for us, because other countries are composed of different people.

In Japan, for instance, people have a much smaller sense of personal space, and will sit right next to you on the bus, rather than trying to make room. They also sell ultra-violent rape comics and used schoolgirl panties in vending machines. Guess what, their crime rate is also ultra-low. Canada has more lax gun rules, and their gun-related crime rate is lower than ours. In England, well, you can't even own a fuckin' gun in England. In Germany, prostitution is legal. See what I'm getting at, here? Countries are different.

As such, any time somebody tries to compare this country to Amsterdam, I call them an idiot. No, I don't care that there are fancy little pot-smoking coffee shops where you can look at a menu and pick out what you like, for whatever kind of high you want. That's fantastic. Teenagers can legally go bar-hopping in Italy, too. Let's lower the drinking age here, and see what happens. Think it's going to have a positive effect? People don't exactly get tired of alcohol as soon as they're done being 21. Yeah, some do, and some stick with it all their lives. Make it legal for American teenagers to get drunk, and all you have is the party year happening among much more immature kids, who already have impaired judgment even when they're sober. Long story short, we're not Europe. We're not Canada. We're not Mexico... yet.

But it should be legalized for medicinal purposes, at least.

Bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Every time a stoner brings this up, an angel slaps himself in the forehead. I know I do, anyway. This is because, people who smoke pot and want it legalized, don't give a flying fuck about medicinal purposes, because they are not dying of cancer. WELL I HEARD THEY WERE MAKING GREAT PROGRESS IN HELPING GLAUCOMA PATIENTS WITH shut the fuck up. You don't care about cancer patients using pot to deal with the pain. For those in pain, there are a variety of treatments available to help deal with the pain. Those aren't good enough? Well fine, smoke up. They deserve it for all the pain they're going through. I don't care. What I do care about is assholes using people in significant pain as an excuse to get high. It's insulting, because they know damn well that when the average argument of "legal weed" comes up, we're not talking about cancer patients. We're talking about putting a Cypress Hill album on and finding the most asinine object in the house to try and smoke weed out of.

In California, weed is indeed legalized for medicinal purposes. And you know what? It's a big fucking joke. Doctors prescribe the shit for stuff like headaches and chronic joint pains. CHRONIC JOINT PAINS?? SEE WHAT I DID THERE? BECAUSE YOU'LL BE SMOKING THE CHRONIC... IN A JOINT!!!! 

Meanwhile, these poor unfortunate souls in pain, they take their prescription down to the medical marijuana place, and get some high-powered government-mandated dank nugz. They then get together at these little pot parties, and they trade their prescription shit with each other. They have taken something that originally had good intentions backing it, they've exploited a loophole, and they've made a joke out of it. Fuck medical marijuana.

Legalizing pot is just going to do more harm than good. You want to get high? Go ahead and get high. You're gonna do it, anyway, and it's not hurting me. Maybe some day it'll be decriminalized and that'll be one less thing you can be paranoid about on your way to Jack in the Box for tacos at 2:30 AM. But for fuck's sake, stop chiming in about how it should be legal, and think for a second about what it all entails. 

Of course, if most of these people knew how to think ahead in the first place, there'd probably be less weed-smoking going on, it wouldn't have received the stigma it now has, and it'd have been legalized a long time ago. So if you want to blame anybody for weed being illegal, blame yourself.

Don't want people seeing your snatch? Don't take a picture of it.

I'm writing an entry about prostitution, and it's way too long and
preachy. So until I can condense it into something shorter and smarmier,
I'm gonna talk about something else.

Today, on my dinner break at work, I could hear some young tart going on
about her problems. She was one of your typical teenagers, whose
problems trump everybody else's. Everyone knows or has known somebody
like this. They are more than willing to open up about how horrible
their life is, and no matter how many solutions you throw at them,
there's no escape from their miserable existance which just seems to
become worse and worse as you question them on it. Then you realize
you're talking to a 15 year old, who's evil mother won't let her go out
and is mean and rotten towards her. Wah.

Anyway, so as I tuned this bitch out and went back to posting ads on
Craig's List offering to negotiate on exactly how many blowjobs I'd have
to give to get a used iPhone, this other hero walks up to her and starts
on this kick about how "you think you have a bad life?" and then
proceeds to tell this story - much more convoluted than it needed to be
- about how his girlfriend ("but she's not really my girlfriend. Not
yet") is stressed because this one guy has naked pictures of her and is
threatening to "post them on the internet."
First of all, I need to find out where exactly "on the internet" is, so
I can find this legendary stash of naked underage girls that all these
embittered ex-boyfriends like to post. Second, these whores deserve it
for being so gosh-damned stupid.

My view is this, when you become old enough to think you can make your
own decisions in life and especially relationships, you also become old
enough to understand the concept that MAYBE YOU'RE FUCKING WRONG.
Unfortunately, nobody beats their kids enough anymore, so we're
presented with a surplus of teenagers who think they're old enough to
have sex because they've known the guy for four whole months and they're
in love.

Parents need to teach the next generation of girls a new rule: if you
take your clothes off in front of a camera, it's going on the internet.
Maybe not today, or tomorrow. Maybe not after you two break up the first
six times, but rest assured that eventually, be it out of spite or pure
apathy, those pictures will be circulating the information superhighway
faster than Dennis Miller can make up anecdotes for every fucking
thought that comes to mind, and that many creepy pervs - like myself -
will be finding them on imagefap or in a massive zip file on bittorrent,
and will be saving them in a folder marked "LOLI PIX." And there's
nothing you can do about it, because even if you do get somebody's
myspace profile closed down or whatever, everybody ELSE who already
saved those pictures - and they did - will be spreading them.

It's a valuable lesson that girls need to learn. So next time you
consider sending the supposed love of your life of the month pictures of
your puffy sausage nips (when you could just as easily show them to him
in person,) understand the giant clusterfuck of a social network that is
high school. If he emails them to his friends, imagine their surprise
when they see so-and-so from their US Government class shoving an
English cucumber up her chonch. That's some pretty sizzling stuff right
there, just imagine how many of THEIR friends they'd like to share it
with. Your entire graduating class, and probably the next three after
you, will now know exactly what your asshole looks like.

Think about that shit, and realize, you could very easily be getting
paid to do what you're doing for free.

"Old school gaming" is a euphamism for "shitty hobby."

Back when I used to waste my time moderating a "geek culture" forum, I
had to put up with a lot of lengthy diatribes from these fags who
thought they were a gosh damned authority on "gaming" because they knew
how to get to the -1 level on Super Mario Bros before they even knew
what their dick was used for.
"THOSE WERE THE DAYS!!" I'd hear, "I REMEMBER DURING THE SUMMER WE'D
HAVE NOTHING TO DO BUT SEE HOW HIGH OF A SCORE WE COULD GET. MY FRIENDS
AND I USED TO PLAY WORLD -1 OVER AND OVER TO SET A RECORD OF HOW LONG WE
COULD PLAY IT FOR."

... What?

The shitdicks would pull this crap all the time, confusing boring tedium
with what they thought was "quality gaming." Notice I put "gaming" in
quotes all the time, because at some point in history, using slang for
"not having any friends" became the hip thing to do.
Then they'd pull some yarn out of their collective asses about how the
gaming industry of today (because people take you more seriously if you
refer to electronic entertainment as an "industry") has gone so horribly
down hill, how games are mostly all the same now, and all any company
cares about is graphics. As if they're senior citizens reminiscning
about the good ol' days and how kids today don't know how good they have
it. Only the "kids today" are maybe ten years younger than us, if that.

All of this, my friends, is certified grade A bullshit.

First off, there were always knock-offs, and there always be knock-offs.
Yeah, there are dozens of first-person shooter games out there, just
like "back then" we had more side-scrolling 2D shooters than I have
sperm on Juno's face in one of my favorite beat-off fantasies.
Next, good graphics aside, games today are much more advanced than games
yesterday. Sorry fuckers, but 3D allows for a whole new realm of
possibilities on what you can do with a game, that just isn't possible
with 2D. And if something can be done in 2D, it would be pointless to
even try.

The biggest perpetrators of the "gaming is dead" mania are the RPG fags,
because they claim the genre is getting stale when all they want is the
same fucking thing over and over. It's either the games are too short,
too easy, the plot is watered down, the protagonist is too angsty, etc.
Meanwhile, I ask what RPG they consider a standard to hold others to,
and I get told "Final Fantasy VI." Or maybe even the very first Final
Fantasy. Now, both of these games are extremely flawed in their own
ways, and are in many ways, what I'd consider lackluster (for instance,
FF6 features almost 15 playable characters. Maybe four of them are
actually worth using. I'll have to give this game a flaying of its own
in another article some time.)
The same happens for older games of many different genres; older
"gamers" praise older games as superior to newer games, when they're
probably just as flawed in different regards. The main argument,
however, is challenge.
Final Fantasy is remembered as challenging because you had to fight IMP
and MADPONY over and over in droves so you could level up and possibly
afford getting your black mage FIR3 or whatever ridiculous luxury
license plate names they gave their spells back them. If your party ran
out of magic or somebody died, you were fucked for the whole dungeon,
creating an invaluable strategy of "run from every encounter even though
I spent hours leveling" for completing areas, all without any save
points. This was considered "challenging" in the same way that
masturbating right after slamming your dick in a door six dozen times
can be considered a challenge. It was also considered "fun" in the same
way that... well, actually, I can just reuse the dick-in-a-door analogy
for this one, as well.

Then there's Contra, a game considered a classic to many "gamers" out
there. Running a topless guerilla warrior around, shooting at alien
football players sure is fun. Dying in one hit and having three entire
lives and no continues for the entire game, on the other hand, was not.
"But the challenge encouraged you to try and become better at the game!"
No, the challenge encouraged me to not ever ask for that game for
Christmas because I didn't want to play the same level over and over
again every time I fucked up.
And Castlevania? Yes, I love getting pummeled to shit because my
limp-wristed pansy whip-wielding vampire hunter doesn't know how to get
the fuck off the stairs or at least aim upwards. But that's not a flaw,
that's a CHALLENGE. Because it was made in the EIGHTIES. And how come I
couldn't ever get any life items? The game teases me by making
everything drop hearts that DON'T RESTORE LIFE. They fuel my dagger.
Yes, that makes perfect sense. Hundreds of candles conceal countless
weapons and hearts, but nothing to restore my pussified lifebar. No, I
have to whip walls and hope dracula hid some fucking old-ass meat in
them. I have 40 units on my lifebar, but for some reason, everything
removes 12 of them. Why not just give me three or four units and call it
a day?
All of this is done in the name of "challenge." When a $50 NES game can
only hold maybe six or eight levels, the developers have to spread it
out by making your hero character be the biggest pussgina in existance.

So why do people still look up to these games?? One reason, and one
reason alone: WE WERE ALL FUCKING KIDS. And I use "fucking" as an
adjective here, not a verb. Otherwise it would be a lie; I still AM
fucking kids.
Seriously, anything and everything is nostalgic to you when it happened
in your childhood. Take Thundercats, for instance. Horrible fucking
show, but it's considered awesome because we watched it as children. And
Transformers? That shit sucked until they made the live-action movie.
Why the hell did Optimus Prime still look like a truck when he was
living on Cybertron millions of years before modern human civilization,
anyway??
And the Ninja Turtles? Ever wonder why their attempted rerelease of that
series sucked? No, not because they can't make good cartoons anymore,
it's because we all GREW UP.
And yet, we all have fond memories of these things. Yes, they were fond
memories, but the subject matter of these memories is not.

This is why "gamers" think new video games suck. Back in the day, we had
thousands of rip-off sidescrollers, Mario clones, and space shooters.
Now we still have rip-offs, only many companies actually make more of an
effort to make games that stand out, because making games takes even
more of an investment.
Also consider, $50 was a lot of money to us back then, because back then
our only source of income was from mowing lawns and rubbing Uncle
Charlie's feet. Our parents didn't always buy us games at a whim, so
whatever we got for Christmas or our birthdays had to last. Memories of
playing these classic games over and over weren't necessarily because
the games were worth the hours invested, it was because we didn't have
anything else.
Now, any schmuck running deliveries for Pizza Hut can buy a new game a
week, beat it, sell it back and get another game, and think nothing of
it.
So truthfully, when it comes down to it, we weren't trying to get the
highest score possible in Super Mario Brothaz because it was a quality
relic of gaming masterpiece with superb replayability; we were doing it
because we just got our new Nintendo and mom and dad refused to buy any
new games until Christmas.
Ever go to somebody's house as a kid, like a friend's or a cousin's? And
it was one of those rich family's who bought games nonstop for their
kid? Yeah, browsing through their collection, you'd find some of the
usual decent games, followed by probably three or four shitty games for
every decent game in there. This was because Nintendo games generally
sucked, we're just too fond of the memories of not having to hold a
steady job over the summer to recall that.

On my way to my Computer Science class, there's this row of classrooms I
walk by, where a bunch of retards hang out at. Okay, they're not
retards, but they're pretty messed up. We have chicks missing arms,
people in electric wheelchairs in various stages of deformations,
near-midgets, and one poor guy who looks like he caught a glimpse of the
ark of the covenant and his face started to melt.

I'm wondering if this is where they put all of the physical misfits who
enroll for classes. But my real dillemma is this: what do I call this
place? The Chamber of Deformities? The Passage of Maladies? The Den of
the Mongoloids? The Hall of Inbreeding?

This is going to take some serious thought.

Juno: Now anybody can write their own hit move!

Walking to class this morning, I took a quick gander at myself. My hair was disshelved and unkempt. My WoW jacket - which I wear with the hood up - had stains on it from some spinach artichoke dip I ate at Fox & Hound weeks ago, and covered my Zelda tshirt. My jeans were too long and tattered, and my flipflops, which did nothing to stop my toes from being cold, were very old and dirty. And as I walked like this, with my tiny Fivestar notebook in hand, I realized, I too have a premise for a shitty indie film.

Juno can be described in one word: quirky. This is sometimes a good thing for movies, but more often than not, it an adjective that can best be applied the same way we sometimes describe something or somebody as "interesting;" that is to say, there's nothing good to say about it, but
it wasn't horrible so we'd feel bad totally denouncing it.

Juno's problem is it tries WAY TOO FUCKING HARD to be quirky, as if the writer and director wanted a movie that at worst would cause a massive inspiration of shitty knock-off retro styles in teen girls and at best, would make a killing in Hot Topic merchandise. I figured this out as soon as the opening menu and credits rolled, and was treated to some hokey, folk-sounding music with shitty vocals, and a montage of Juno's stiff stride downtown, made to look like it was hand
drawn and colored by an amateur. The whole time, Juno is carrying a giant jug of Sunny Delight (I refuse to call it "Sunny D") and chugging it, making for an excellent product placement. I could just hear a pack of girls now, finishing the movie, leaving the theaters and going "LOL
KNOW WHAT I WANT?? SUM SUNNY D. BUT NOT JSUT A BOTTLE, A _HOLE JUG_ AND
THEN LETS WALK AROUND AND DRINK IT!"

This is a metaphor for Juno as a movie: made to look like it was carelessly thrown together by an amateur, but made on a foundation of mainstream commercialism. The movie just tries so damn hard to be cool and offbeat. Between clever shots of Juno's dress style (tee hee, slinkie tshirt! Remember slinkies? No, because you were born after the slinkie fad died down you dumb bitches) her choice of decor (oooh a hamburger phone! That's so cute, I'm going on ebay to order one right now!) and her dialogue which is making EVERY effort to be witty and sarcastic, crossed with pseudo-intellectualism with a dash of vulgarity thrown in, as if we have to try to imitate Kevin Smith for clever dialogue now. Oh, and the catchphrases. Her and her budz love to say
things like "Wizard" in place of cool, because, well hey, Napoleon Dynamite did it and kids are still shouting "FLIPPIN' SWEET!!" like it's the new "I'm Rick James, bitch lol." Oh, and then there's the random toss-in of musical taste, as the movie finds a way to let us all know
about Juno's offbeat taste in music, so we can all go online and look those bands up ourselves! Mainstream corporate rock is SO not-wizard! In fact, I'm making up a reverse catch phrase for stuff that's not wizard! Muggle! Linkin Park is SO muggle! Eat it, mudbloods!

It reminded me of that shitty assfuck of a movie "Garden State" which played on the whole Kevin Smith Jersey movie angle to deliver a movie that was nothing like any of that. When Zach Braff is sitting in the waiting room and Padme Amidala takes off her giant headphones to deliver
a blatant sales pitch for the hot, wizard non-corporate group "The Shins." You know they're good because the name begins with "The" and ends with a random word, and because prior to that nobody's ever heard of them.
Juno does this. Only it actually designates scenes for the exclusive purpose of telling me what music and movies are cool or not.

But beyond the clever dialogue, the quirky style and random product placement, what else does Juno offer? Like many indie films (or films that try to appear indie, in this case,) Juno attempts to give us an afterthought of a plot, strewn in a convoluted mess of scenes that go both everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. This movie is supposed to be about a girl getting pregnant and... well, that's it, she gets pregnant and gives the kid up for adoption. Now let's get back to more of her drinking slurpies, eating a noose of licorice (OMG THAT'S SO COOL IM TOTELY DOIGN THAT!) and close-ups of her boyfriend eating orange tic-tacs. Fads based on random products that have always existed are wizard!

Juno has sex with the skinny guy from Superbad, who plays the skinny guy from Superbad in this movie (only specifically instructed not to be funny, so we can have more scenes of Juno trying to convince us how smart and cute she is.) He's ... well, we don't know who he is to her
until way late in the movie, not because the plot calls for it, but because the movie just forgets to tell us. Many things are forgotten in the movie in lieu of mundane events like an ultrasound, or showing the ultrasound to the adoptive parents, or playing guitar with an older man.
Basically, if the scene isn't showing us how cool Juno is, it's not really very important. I thought the two kids were dating. Turns out, they're just friends as I find out late in the movie and, oh! By the way, they had a band! A shitty band as we find out by their song at the end of the movie! Oh, and he likes her, but she is just a friend, but she sort of likes him, too.
This whole love affair is briefly highlighted in all of three scenes in the entire movie. The rest is her preparing to put the kid up for adoption.

But Josh, that is what the movie is about, right?

Once the adoptive couple shows up in the movie, we're sort of introduced to their life and relationship, which is about as awkward as the rest of the movie. The couple is bland and monotone, and slightly dysfunctional enough to put a bit of tension into their scenes, but not enough to make things interesting.
The husband takes a liking to Juno, hinting at a hot hot loli relationship on the horizon, which - thankfully - does not take into fruition because then the movie would actually go somewhere. We find out the husband doesn't really want a baby, but a divorce from his slightly-overbearing Julia Roberts clone of a wife. No real reason is truly given, besides "duh I'm not ready to be a dad." Juno even asks them how they can fall in love, get married and then grow apart, providing the perfect opportunity for them to at least tell why if they won't show it, but instead they just stare and mumble things, like one of those couples that tries to get the last word in even if it just
means sarcastically agreeing with the other's accusations.

After this, Juno suddenly decides she's in love with the guy who knocked her up (it be wonderful if, in real life, girls actually realize they love their best guy-friends just from their daddy telling them to go with the first guy who actually admires them.) They kiss, hold hands, and then we get to watch a very anticlimatic scene of her going into labor (she doesn't even invite her boyfriend.)

Then she gives the baby to the bitch, anyway. The end. The movie ends with the two kids singing to each other and playing guitar, which was so long I actually stopped the movie at that point. Juno accomplished nothing as a movie. It barely tells a story about a girl getting
pregnant, giving it up for adoption, and then dating the father through high school. Nothing terribly impacting, just a casual "we'll get through this" sort of attitude to an otherwise life-changing series of events.

The movie isn't horrible. I certainly don't hate any of the characters (which in itself is an accomplishment,) and I admit Juno is a really cute character. What bothers me is how hard the movie tries to be artsy and random, almost like it's trying to draw in the Napoleon Dynamite
crowd. Difference is, that movie knows it's not trying to deliver anything, and there's a point behind its randomness: humor. Napoleon comments on Pedro's bike, and the we jump directly to a scene of them making a ghetto-ass jump off a shitty ramp. The point? To watch Napoleon
suddenly eat shit and get socked in the nuts, so we can laugh. Any of the retro-indie quirks in that movie serve to support the movie's humor.
Juno is the logarhythmic inverse function of this. It acts like it tries to present a purpose, but delivers nothing and as a result I don't laugh. I only see the retro-indie details being blared louder than everything else the movie was supposed to be.

I'd still fuck Juno, though. Especially while she has a bun in the oven.

High heels are for girls, faggot.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23847511/

This shit makes my blood boil. Not because an eigth grader was shot,
like everybody else is mad about (although it is terrible that it
happened) but because we've now reached a point where we're gonna have
to teach our kids to be tolerant of cross-dressers. Furthermore, it's
another reminder that according to our laws, if you're a murderer,
you're not nearly as much of a heinous degenerate as a murderer who's
also a bigot. Somehow, personal feelings towards the background of your
victim makes your crime that much more criminal.

Larry King - no relation to the frumpy undead Jew on CNN - was shot by a
classmate, because he dressed up like a girl and hit on the guys who
dared make fun of him.

I repeat, he dressed up like a girl and hit on the people who mocked
him. In eigth grade. Am I the only one seeing something wrong with this?
Have we come to a point where this really should be considered
acceptible?? I feel like I'm taking crazy pills.

Where the fuck were the parents when their son was putting makeup on?
What kind of father would boldly support a son who's balls have barely
dropped and is already picking out a favorite eyeliner?? This shouldn't
even be a debate of sexuality, it's a debate of IDIOCY. There are plenty
of gays out there who dress appropriate to their gender. Even the most
fantastic, limp-wristed faggots dress like dudes, they just add some
flair to it. Hardly do I see any of them wearing fucking makeup, chick's
jewelry and motherfucking HIGH HEELS.
WHY HIGH HEELS??? Chicks complain all the time about how painful those
things are to wear at formal occasions or to work, and here this
prepubescent poof is shoving his man-feet in them on a daily basis. W H
Y ? ?

I'll tell you why: to make a statement. I don't know what steps of
parenting his parents decided to roll through, but King decided it would
matter to show everyone exactly how queer he is... by dressing like a
woman. And when he was mocked, he flirted with the boys. I'm sorry, is
that not sexual harassment? Oh, he was harassed first? Shit, I was made
fun of for not wearing any No Fear shirts in seventh grade, and for
being chubby. All this fucker had to do was NOT go out of his way to
dress up like a girl, and he'd probably have avoided a lot of this,
including death. But no, he has to make a statement. Sewing a rainbow
patch on his backpack just wasn't enough, apparently.

I love some of the quotes from this article. Like Ellen Degenerate,
feeling we actually care enough about a washed-up comedian's opinion of
what's okay: "Larry was not a second-class citizen. I'm not a
second-class citizen. It is OK if you are gay."

Hey, thanks, Ellen! The thing is, you're gay. Saying it's OK if you're
gay is a bit biased, right?
The thing is, it is more or less okay to be gay. Yes, I'm repulsed by it
and I think it's immoral, but that's neither here nor there. In society,
I do agree gays are NOT second-class citizens.
But what we're talking about isn't the "right" to be gay, we're talking
about a stupid teenager in drag, FORCING his sexuality on people he
knows don't accept it, by flirting with them. He did not deserve to die,
but he did more or less ask for it.

"He didn't like people insulting him," said Miriam Lopez, a 13 year old
waste of time, "Larry was brave enough to bring high heels and makeup to
school and he wasn't afraid of anything."

Here's what I'm not getting. He supposedly didn't like being insulted,
so he combats it by flaming out and flirting with kids? Why not go kick
some ass or put his stilleto heel through somebody's hand? Why not, oh I
dunno, leave them alone?? Seriously, King probably would've been just
fine if he dressed like a girl and just ignored the mockery.
Calling somebody brave for bringing high heels to school is like calling
a black man brave for having an affair with a klan member's wife.

"If girls are wearing jewelry, you can't stop boys from wearing it,
too," said the superintendant. "Each gender has the right to wear what
the other does."

Since when? There aren't dresscodes intact? Fuck, stop blurring the damn
lines between genders. We're not forcing girls to wear burkas and cover
their faces, but it shouldn't be too much to ask that boys just don't
wear girls' clothes in school. Now they're meeting with "gay leaders" to
discuss how to waste students' education time and our tax dollars
teaching the importance of tolerance. What are gay leaders, anyway? Is
there some Counsel of Queers who get together and discuss which shade of
orange is the new pink, or how to best groom your teacup chihuahuah? Why
am I supposed to be worried about some bizarre, Butt-fucking Al Sharpton
coming along to pressure people into doing shit their way? Now we have
to teach teachers how to best deal with gay teens. I have a solution:
"PUT SOME PANTS ON AND WASH THAT SHIT OFF OR I'M FAILING YOU." Easy does
it.

Turns out, King was in foster care or whatever, which explains a lot and
also removes the validity of about half of my rant about his parents,
and the other asshole's parents were even bigger assholes. So seeing as
how there are no real parents for the victim, I have to reshuffle the
blame of this death, from most to least:

First, I blame the kid who shot King. Obviously it was his fault; you
don't go shooting a fag for flirting with you. Just kick him in the
balls and walk away. Eventually he'll learn. Don't shoot anybody.
Second, I blame his parents. Did we forget to teach the kid not to bring
guns to school and shoot people who make him feel bad?
Third, I blame the victim, Larry King, for being a flamboyant jerk-off
who used his sexuality to purposely piss everybody off.
Finally, I blame Boy George. Dressing up like a woman and asking "do you
really want to hurt me" is just promoting this kind of shit. It may be a
good thing this boy was shot, otherwise he'd grow up kidnapping male
prostitutes, too.

Surprise, your relationship sucks!

So tonight I celebrated the resurrection of Christ (BECAUSE I AM
WEAK-MINDED AND USE RELIGION AS A CRUTCH OF +1 FAIRY-TALE BELIEVING) by
begrudgingly going into work and playing sudoku on my phone in the
office the entire time. Hey, time-and-a-half is time-and-a-half.

During this time, I checked an away message of a friend and found some
yarn about how "you" only get into big fights with the people "you"
really care about because "you" really "love" them. The Red Bull I then
proceeded to project onto the desk from my nostrils had the consistancy
of steam, for it had boiled under pressure of the rage such an attitude
summons from me.

Back when I had a heart and actually cared about the well-being of
others, I used to waste my time talking to people about the bad
relationships they were putting themselves through. They all gave me the
same line about how "BWRHGWHRGWHM WE ONLY FIGHT BECAUSE WE LOVE EACH
OTHER AND BLRGHRBGLRHGL RELATIONSHIPS ARE ALL ABOUT WORK" etc.
When I wasn't hearing this from others, I was trying to believe it
myself in an effort of convincing myself that I should stick with
whatever harpy it was I happened to be shtooping at the time.

What these "adults" don't realize is they're making the same excuses
made by teenagers who believe they're "in love," as well as mature
enough to make rational decisions about relationships.
You can learn a lot about a person by arguing with them, mainly whether
they listen or not. Fights can be broken down into three aspects:

1. The Conflict
Why did the argument happen? Fast-forward to the resolution of the
argument (if one exists) and analyze why the fight began. Was it a
disagreement? A difference of opinion? A misunderstanding? Failure of
communication? Or was one of you just being an asshole? A fight can be
avoided if both parties can just look at the conflict from the beginning
and come to a common ground. If both are mature and emotionally stable
enough (meaning, in a fantasy environment,) the responsible party could
admit fault in a one-sided conflict, and a fight could be avoided.

2. The Prolonging
Perhaps he ignores you, or she doesn't listen and barrels over what you
say, or he shouts, or she sidetracks and brings up what you did in front
of her parents with the turkey baster last Christmas. All of these are
examples of things that push a fight way further than it needs to go,
and just causes more irritation.

3. The Aggitation Factor
This is like the vile sprinkles atop your sugary, carb-laden doughnut of
sin. This aspect goes along with the Prolonging, causing fights to
become even more heated and leading to more domestic abuse calls or
car-keyings. It could be caused by insulting the other person, being
overly sarcastic, accusational, or even (my personal favorite) just
responding to everything, in monotone, with one-worded answers. If your
partner is actually trying to annoy you in an argument, they probably
feel justified in doing it, which means they automatically assume you
did something wrong.

Upon analyzing these three elements of a fight, it's quite easy to see
that couples don't argue because they love each other, but because they
just don't get along. The more frequent the fighting, the less patience
they have, and the less patience couples have for each other, the more
hate rises up in the fight.

This wouldn't be nearly as much of an issue if couples learned from
their arguments, and molded themselves around each other's
personalities. But then, if that kind of shit actually happened, the
divorce rate would probably be non-existant. Unfortunately, kids get
into steady relationships at an alarmingly young age, and feel they can
handle it because they're "adults." While the teen years do play host to
massive changes, the gap between 17 and 18 isn't all that great in the
maturity department. Being 18 means little more than being able to buy
PACKA CIGGIEZ and getting to legally say "YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO
ANYMORE, DAD!!!" Young adults claim they "follow their hearts," as if
this should be a point of pride. What they follow their hearts into is
dysfunctional relationships that often leads to unsteady, premature
marriages. God help the kids some of these teenagers spawn and raise.

Marriage should only be legally allowed between adults of 22 years of
age or older. Prior to 21, everybody is still way too immature to hold
steady relationships ("BUT IM VERRY MATURE 4 MY AGE LOL" be honest, has
anybody ever admitted to being not mature enough??) and at age 21, the
legal party phase begins. Age 22, on average, is potentially the minimum
age kids usually stop being kids, have most of the partying and
debauchery out of their systems, and are ready to start taking shit
seriously. This is the Minimum, meaning for late-bloomers, it could even
be a few years later (SEE: my previous entry about my near-Hendrix
experience in bed.)

Fighting doesn't mean you're working on your relationship, it just means
you're beating a dead horse. Stop looking at fucking engagement rings
with somebody you hate, and save your money for a car or something.

Spring Break.

Kind of behind on my game here, so I can't really think of anything
witty or angry to write in the subject line.

This whole week, I took off from life. I had off from school, put in for
paid vacation at work, and even neglected to go to the gym this entire
time. I managed to find some time between my busy schedule of WoW and
sleeping to wake up, horribly hung over, literally in a puddle of my own
vomit. I also stayed up into the waking hours telling a girl I just met
what a piece of crap she is in so many words, and I got my oil changed!
All in all, this has been quite the productive week.

I haven't written much this week, not so much because I've been uber
busy, but because I just can't think of anything to write beyond my
usual lineup of self-loathing, woman-hating and general complaining.

So I guess I'm calling it a night for now. I'll post more as inspiration
strikes.

NES Games to play while drunk.

I'm quite a bit innebriated right now, and since I feel like doing
random things after drinking, I'm going to reflect on five great NES
games to play while toasted. Note that if there are more or less than
five, it's because I lost my train of thought and forgot to return to
this paragraph to change the number.

1. Joust
The controls in this game make it fucked up enough to play while sober.
Basically you hit A over and over to flap your bird-guy's wings, and
hope you don't move to fast. The trick is to hit the underside of your
enemy's bird while hoping they don't impale you with their cockscope.
Needless to say, I would play this game for a total of three minutes as
a kid, before I reached the part where I pull the game out of the NES
and say "fuck this" and go back to erasing my cousin's saves on Legend
of Zelda.

2. Wizards and Warriors
Because who doesn't love a game that stars a guy dressed in a full suit
of armor, who wags his sword around like a sore dick?? Seriously, this
game is fucked up. I can hold A to hop around from tree to tree like I
lost my damn mind, or hold B to have extra-marital relations with my
zweihander. All the while there are fucking bees and other random
monsters flying around. And when I die? My character does the bug and
flails his arms around. It's crazy!

3. Slalom
I meant the skateboarding game 720, but for some reason I was thinking
Slalom. Sure enough, I look this shit up on Google and find a game about
skiers bending over in third person view. Gay.

3. 720
You play as this skateboarder with a huge noggin, and the trick is to
control his movements and tricks while he's hopped up on paint thinner
or something. I think if you held the controller upside down it was
easier. This game is like Marble Madness only without as many references
to my testicles.

4. Paperboy
I wanted to make #4 Toe Jam & Earl only A.) This post isn't about
Genesis games and B.) This post isn't about games to play while you're
tripping ballz.
But if you were tripping ballz, this game would be what it feels like to
deliver papers on acid. The grim fuckin' reaper wants your paperboy ass,
you dong-benders. There are also possessed lawnmowers, irate
pedestrians, and this random freaky obstacle course at the end.
You know, when I'm done delivering papers, the last thing I wanna do
after a long morning's work is jump over tires on my bike and shit. And
what's with not delivering papers to red houses? How fuckin racist is
that? This game gets props for being anti-communist, at least.

5. Mighty Bomb Jack
What the fuck is this?? I'm some guy wearing boxer shorts on my head,
who jumps like I have a Game Genie. He collects bombs as if their coins,
and his super power involves changing colors and making the soundtrack
change. Apparently I have to kill mummies because I'm in a period or
something. I meant to say "pyramid." If I want to play fuckd up bomb
games, I'll pop in Bomberman and accidentally blow myself up while
trying to burn orange happy ghosts alive.

I'm gonna go play WoW with my nude patch installed. I love vagina.

I'm stuck in an asshole paradox.

I'm sitting here at In-n-Out Burger again, because my sister needed a
ride to work and my arteries needed a good dose of hardening. It's been
busy in here, so I've had to hunt around for a seat before my 3x3 was
finished. Shut the fuck up, I've never had one before. But I can't
promise I won't ever have one again.

I find this seat in the corner, a little table with two chairs, and I
wait for my meal. Long story short, I ate my food, I wiped the grease
from my face, and then I got up to fill up my Diet Coke. Yes, fuckers, a
Diet Coke. I know it's HAHALARIOUS to think about guys eating fast food
and drinking a diet cola, but stop and think: what's worse for your
heart, consuming a large quantity of fat AND sugar? Or consuming the fat
and replacing the sugar with not-sugar? And don't give me this
"bwrgwbrgwbgbm cancer" garbage, either. Everything causes cancer.

Anwyay, on my way back to my seat, I notice a bewildered old bint
hovering over my seat, looking down at the tray of trash I left there. I
excuse myself and zip down to take my seat. She apologizes and goes off
to find another place to sit with her undead husband or whatever. Only
after she left did I realize I didn't need to stay here.

So here's my dilemma: do I get up immediately, and look like an asshole
for turning her away just so I could get up and leave, or do I stay here
and dick around on my phone, obviously done with my food, and also
looking like an asshole? Either way, I'm a jerk-off.

In order to stay true to my "I'm such a bitter asshole" persona on here,
I'm asking for the sake of finding out which is the lesser of two evils,
then going along with the OTHER option. Wish me luck.

I'm stuck in an asshole paradox.

I'm sitting here at In-n-Out Burger again, because my sister needed a
ride to work and my arteries needed a good dose of hardening. It's been
busy in here, so I've had to hunt around for a seat before my 3x3 was
finished. Shut the fuck up, I've never had one before. But I can't
promise I won't ever have one again.

I find this seat in the corner, a little table with two chairs, and I
wait for my meal. Long story short, I ate my food, I wiped the grease
from my face, and then I got up to fill up my Diet Coke. Yes, fuckers, a
Diet Coke. I know it's HAHALARIOUS to think about guys eating fast food
and drinking a diet cola, but stop and think: what's worse for your
heart, consuming a large quantity of fat AND sugar? Or consuming the fat
and replacing the sugar with not-sugar? And don't give me this
"bwrgwbrgwbgbm cancer" garbage, either. Everything causes cancer.

Anwyay, on my way back to my seat, I notice a bewildered old bint
hovering over my seat, looking down at the tray of trash I left there. I
excuse myself and zip down to take my seat. She apologizes and goes off
to find another place to sit with her undead husband or whatever. Only
after she left did I realize I didn't need to stay here.

So here's my dilemma: do I get up immediately, and look like an asshole
for turning her away just so I could get up and leave, or do I stay here
and dick around on my phone, obviously done with my food, and also
looking like an asshole? Either way, I'm a jerk-off.

In order to stay true to my "I'm such a bitter asshole" persona on here,
I'm asking for the sake of finding out which is the lesser of two evils,
then going along with the OTHER option. Wish me luck.

Why I would love to stare at your tits, thank you!

Warning: in this post I will be talking about tits and ass. And
masturbating, and porn, and gay sex.

... so basically, in this post I will be talking about what I usually
talk about. Only negativity-free!

Today at the gym, as I worked off my thunder thighs on the elliptical, I
was treated to a wonderous display in front of me. This girl was
trotting away on a treadmill, her ponytail bouncing back and forth like
a ... pony's... tail. She was maybe a little shorter than me (so pretty
damn short) and she had this amazing, tiny hourglass frame that tapered
down to a luscious, wholesome, heart-shaped muffin ass. My heartrate
rose rapidly as I found myself subconsciously moving faster, as if to
catch up to that applebottom so I could write my signature on it. (That
means I want to beat off on her ass.)

It got me thinking. Well, first off, it inspired me to do the whole
half-hour on the elliptical instead of 15-20 minutes and then hopping
off to go sculpt my gunz and then eat a double cheeseburger. But it also
got me appreciating how absolutely beautiful women can be when they
aren't tired, frumpy beasts. When I'm not excreting hate and vitriol
from every pore of my body and driving every girl off with my
anti-pheromones, I'm at awe over what I'm missing out on. Sometimes,
when I'm watching porn, I'll switch to some gay videos and try jerking
it to that, and then switching back to lesbians or something again, just
to contrast how much I love women. It feels like getting out of the hot
tub, leaping into the pool, then immediately getting out and going back
into the hot tub with hardened nipples. Only instead of a pool, it's
all-man butt fucking.

Let's see if I can finish this next paragraph without talking about
masturbating or gay sex. Here goes.
So as I drive home to eat my workout-undoing lunch, I see a girl with
one of those slightly low-cut tops that could best be described as
modest with a dash of cleavage, and I thanked the Lord. Any girl who
says she doesn't want guys staring at her chest had better not own
anything that accentuates it, because it's just damned hypocritical. I
love these shirts, because as modest-looking as they are, it's apparent
that they were designed for one purpose and one purpose alone: LETTING
ME SEEM DEM TITS, EH?? It's subtle things like those shirts that can
really bring the beauty out. It's especially darling when they have an
even tighter shirt on underneath, so I'm treated to even more
breats-a-poppin'. Shit like this almost makes me forget about the groady
doofus holding hands with her.

Last night, at Walmart, I spotted some schmuck walking around with his
cutie-patootie girlfriend, and she was wearing a cute pair of baggy
pajama bottoms. They weren't that baggy, because they were just able to
point out the curves in her ample, barely legal behind. I wanted to kick
that dude's skinny ass and deposit him upside down in a garbage can; not
necessarily because I harbored any hard feelings for him (he seemed
clean-cut enough,) but just out of principle. Just as I was about to
fantasize about how hot she'd look folded in half wedged deep inside a
bathroom-floor-and-Josh-Fatal sandwich, I heard Gay4Pay to my right
shout "Damn, she's got an ass hotter than your sister's!!" To my left, I
heard my sister shout back "FUCK YOU." I picked out a pint of Ben &
Jerry's Fudge Caramel Faggotry that night, and pretended I'd be eating
it off her ass.

I think it's time I get laid.

Eat my all-natural dick.

I'm sitting here on my damned break, drinking a Rockstar Coffee and watching these two Mac faggots on their damned iBooks or whatever, watching videos with each other, probably of gay porn. I'm waiting for the Macfest to stop so I can watch them suck each other's iCocks so I at least have something to think about when I go jerk off in the restroom.

Just as I'm figuring a way to straighten out my all-gay wood when I stand up, when I hear this fat chick working at our Gelato bar (yes, we have a gelato bar, which is probably one of the reason the limp-wrist Mac fages keep coming around) shouts to a passing customer "WOULD YOU LIKE TO TRY SOME GELATO, SIR?? IT'S ALL NATURAL!!"

Why is "all natural" written on every piece of shit product I see? I see it on 7-up now, who actually went as far as releasing an entire ad campaign themed around how their shitty beverage is "all natural" now. Fruit snacks are made with "all natural" fruit flavor. Skin cream is
made with "all natural" human placenta. Who gives a fuck?? It's like when they whore out some junky kids snack as being a "good" source of calcum or vitamin C. What doesn't have calcium in it these days, jerk-offs?? And who cares? How many cases a year do we hear about kids'
bones breaking like Samuel L. Jackson when he chased that jitbag peckerwood through a subway in Unbreakable because they don't get enough calcium? Now, how many cases do we
hear about young boys with tits bigger than my sister's because they ate too many Oreos made with "all natural" lard?

Another favorite is something chocolate chip, made with "REAL CHOCOLATE CHIPS!" For real?? So it's not chocolate FLAVORED chips like some products do? I'll make sure I only feed my kids real chocolate from now on.
Also, organic doesn't mean it's good. Oh yeah, I know, you feel solice in knowing that overpriced apple you put in your kid's lunchbox is free of the tiny amount of pesticides our bodies have long grown immune to ages ago, but the bag of organic Doritos kind of defeats the purpose.
What good is keeping your body virtually free of growth hormones and pesticides if you're still eating the same diet of processed garbage?
I'm not judging for eating bad food or anything, just understand that when I order my double cheeseburge and ten piece Chicken McNuggets, I understand they are bad for me. I don't kid myself in the matter.

And because I don't want to finish this entry too soon, I'm gonna bitch some more about the whole organic thing. I was gonna gripe about vegans, but let's be honest, people take vegans about as seriously as they take Scientology; as such, whatever I have to say about them goes without saying (other than this: if it's okay for animals to rip other animals apart with their bare claws and eat each other, why is it inhumane for us to eat meat?)
Buying certain kinds of meat, eggs or dairy because it was "naturally raised" makes you an asshole. What, are you sending a message to all of the inhumane farms out there that keep their animals locked up in cages? Does it taste better? How do you even KNOW it's being naturally raised and they aren't just saying it? "WELL I LOOKED UP THE ORGANIZATION AND
THEY'RE ACTUALLY CERTIFIED-" No you didn't, douche nozzle. You didn't educate yourself on the ins and outs of cruelty-free dairy or eggs. You just logged onto myspace and saw some bulletin showing pictures from some nameless farm that show chickens being locked up together and now you feel like you have to "fight for the cause."
You want humane? All of these farms still are growing animals for the purpose of slaughtering or at the very least, whoring out their eggs and milk. Yeah, that's not inhumane at all. If you really want to get your meat and dairy products the "all natural" way, go out and kill an animal yourself and eat it. Oh, you want milk? Go suck it straight from the cow's hormone-free udder. But wait, that's bestiality, the REAL all-natural way would be to suck milk from a woman's lactating tits. Now there's something I'd be 110% behind. LEMME SUCK DEM TITS, AH?

I'm gonna go make some taquitos and saturate them in barbeque sauce.

The Valentine's Day Conspiracy

Another Valentine's Day is upon us and I won't be seeing my sister to
give her the $75 worth of flowers and chocolates I got her because she
is an idiot and is going to spend it with the boyfriend she broke up
with two days ago. Something about "one last happy memory together"
which I suppose is chick language for "might as well let the sad bastard
spend even more money on me and service me orally once more since he's
willing."

Anyway, I am not anti-this-holiday because people who randomly hate on
Valentine's Day are either just pissy because they're single, or feel
like they have something to prove while at the same time accepting cards
and gifts from their friends and family. The only reason I'm sad on this
day is because I'm single and bitter, not because I hate the holiday.
That's right, I'm not going to make up some bullshit reason like "I
DESPISE THE COMMERCIALISM IMPOSED UPON US BY THE GIANT CORPORATE
MACHINE" as if I have some noble cause behind my angst. I'm just
depressed and moody.

As such, I must find a new way to celebrate the holiday, so I can keep
myself from downing an entire container of Ben & Jerry's, which I'm
probably going to do, anyway. So far, all I've come up with is me trying
to make somebody cry today. But I already do that every day, so unless I
plan on making TWO people cry, I'm not doing much out of the ordinary.
Unfortunately, that's too much work for a holiday, so I hope you all
understand my dilemma.

So I guess today's pet peeve are the people (chicks, mainly) who act
like they hate Valentine's Day. They go on about how it's a "Hallmark
holiday," manufactured to make money by making people think they have to
buy their loved ones stuff, and yet when those cards, those flowers,
that jewelry starts rolling in, they have no qualms with accepting said
presents.

Wait, wait... it just occurred to me. They say they hate the holiday and
don't celebrate it, and yet accept gifts on the holiday. Basically, what
this means is they get presents without having to reciperocate the
gesture. Hey, nice move, whores! That's a great way to be 50/50 with
your relationships! Heck, even calling them whores is being polite; at
least with a whore, you give her money, she gives you sex. 100%
satisfaction garuntee.

For this reason, if I'm ever married and my wife pulls this "let's not
celebrate" shit, I'm taking her words at face value. And to ensure I
drove the point home, I'm gonna take myself to see a movie that night,
too.

Being King Nerd still makes you a nerd.

Being a geek isn't cool, I don't care how acceptable it is, I'm never
going to admire how fucking dorky some of these jitbags are. Sure,
getting good grades is cool (although there are plenty of these kids who
adopt the mantle of nerd without adopting the GPA to go along with it,)
going against the flow is cool, taking pride in your own interests is
cool no matter how mocked you are for it. Taking it to a level where I,
one of the biggest rejects ever, wants to kick your ass, however, is not
cool.

I'm in this class, Intro to Computer Science, where we learn elementary
C++ from this wacky eccentric guy who uses too many hand gestures and
over-annunciates his words - for instance, "ice cream cone" to him is
"AAYCE CREEEAM CAAONE." He's a good guy, though.
I'm amongst quite a ragtag band of douchebags in this class, I admit.
There's a hot blonde in the class, a middle-aged Asian guy, a skinny
angst-bucket who can't see the color green, a deaf guy, and a fat guy
who tries to look slim by wearing oversized plaid button-down shirts. I
feel like I'm in casting tryouts for the next Dodgeball movie, for
fuck's sake.
The rest of the class is moderately normal-looking, although one of the
lesser eyesores in the class is the guy who exists in every programming
class: the know-it-all overqualified asshole.

Every damned lesson, we're learning some very basic fundamentals of
programming, and this tool has to show off what a fucking prodigy he
thinks he is. Of course, it's nothing that impressive, just shit that's
a few chapters ahead of us, like a more practical way to make line
feeds, or conditional case structure or whatever. Either way, he has to
interrupt the lesson to go "WHAT ABOUT ____?" only so the teacher can
tell him, politely, that we aren't covering that yet.
One day, this douche had to take the teacher's time to figure out why
his stupid Hello World program wouldn't fucking run, because he insisted
on coding it in the .NET application instead of regular Visual C++. "I
always use .NET at home," he boasts, "and it always works for me
there."

Well how convenient for you, limp-dick! But the shit isn't working HERE,
because you're worried too much about showing how advanced you are and
not worried enough about following the fucking instructions. Meanwhile,
I have to wait to get my project looked over so I can get the hell out
of there and try to eat some greasy tacos and God forbid a spicy chicken
sandwich before I clock in for work to deal with even more
mouth-breathers, all because "I ALWAYS USE .NET." Next time, start an
EMPTY project like the teacher said!

And then whenever there's a problem, it's always "I did that! It still
isn't working!" Right, you just happened to get the computer that has a
hard-on for you. And they always claim they checked over "everything,
like, six times!"
This is specifically what separates career-worthy programmers from the
basement-dwelling fucks who think they're gonna program the next Final
Fantasy from scratch with C++ and their own "team" of hairy smelly guys
from down the street who will have more Japanese action figures than
they ever will blowjobs in their entire collective lives; putting
troubleshooting over your overinflated ego. Bugs don't come from "FUKKIN
STUPID PIECE OF SHIT M$ WINBLOWZ", they come from users making stupid
errors because they think they're the shit.

Just today, I overheard somebody asking this jitbag what programming
classes he's taken prior. Turns out he took a Programming Fundamentals
class (which is basically like Defense Against the Dark Arts being
taught without any spell practice - all theories) and a Visual Basic
class, which teaches you how to program in a drag and drop fashion, so
you can make your own calculator program in case the Windows version
just isn't personalized enough. Basically, it's a toy. Nobody knew that
meanwhile, I took classes for COBOL, Turbo PASCAL, C++, Visual Basic.
And they won't... want to know why? Because I don't plan on rubbing my
prior experience (or lack thereof) in. I'm in that class to reaquaint
myself and clear off a prerequisite, not to wave my cyber-dick around
for all the nerd underlings to swoon over. I hate geeks.