Like A Dog

I'm coming down with a cold, and I haven't been this sick in almost a year. I'm coughing so much that I cough until I puke, like some fucking village moron. How stupid is that? Coughing till you puke. So as I was puking through the open door of my car, I was praying to whatever god out there that's sick enough to watch that that if they made it stop, I would give up smoking I swear. But still, I had to puke all the contents in my stomach, which thankfully was only tea, until I stopped. So I went home, rinsed my mouth out, and lit a smoke.

So I don't keep the promises I make in the midst of my extreme weakness. Sue me.

Gift Of The Magi

Come this time of year, due to several obvious circumstances, I tend to receive a few gifts from here and there. I don't get much, since I don't believe in presents, so I hardly ever get any. Come to think of it though, I think my most precious gift was received last year. You see, I got a brother who has a disability-Down's Syndrome. And last year, his last day of school was on my birthday, so when I got home in the evening, he gave me a hand-made card made out of notebook paper. Just for the record, it wasn't much to look at. But still, it brought tears to my eyes, and almost made me cried. I would have cried too, if I wasn't so MANLY!

Until this day, when I think of the various gifts I received for any occasion, that notebook paper tops the list. And I still have it somewhere in my closet, folded between pages of a diary. I still pull it out now and then and look at it, reminiscing.

BAH!

HUMBUG!

Holiday Spirit

I read once in this serious newsmagazine that the holiday season has the highest suicide rate of all year. Perhaps call me insensitive, but I feel fine every holiday season. I hardly ever get the blues, depression, intense lonliness...not more than normal anyways. There ARE times though when I urgently feel the need to take a long walk off a short pier. And that's honeymoon season. Something about seeing happy couples walking along the beach while holding hands that makes me wanna plow into them with my car. Perhaps it's because I'm living in a tourist destination. I dunno.

And it's not like they speak any English, anyways. If they could, I would try my best to help out the bride set the tone for the rest of the marriage: cheat on hubby everytime his back is turned. I mean, I've helped out a few brides, but not as much as I would like, you know?

Gnashing Of Teeth

There's this guy at work, pushing 40, short, with thinning hair. And just the other day at the company Christmas luncheon, I saw his wife, and Jesus fucking Christ am I jealous. She's this stunning Russian chick, looks like she's barely out of her 20s. And as I mentioned many times in the past, as soon as I get content to being what I am, an ugly guy alone in front of the pooter, holding his dick, fate finds a way to rub it in my face again.

For a second, I was tempted to apply for a position in Russia. Then reality hit me; I would never even be tenth as lucky, since everyone knows, the chick gotta COMPREHEND what comes out of my mouth for the chick to even find me remotely interesting.

Oh well, the thought was good for the second it lasted. Back to being an ugly guy alone in front of the pooter, holding his dick. It's not so bad, I swear.

What Goes Around

A couple of days ago, two state senators here were arrested by the FBI for 37 counts of wire fraud, with a third to come soon. Now, I'm not the kind of person who wishes for bad things to happen to other people, save for a very few despicable people, like wifebeaters, rapists, child molesters and lawyers. But this I pray to Baby Jesus, Buddha, Allah, Virgin Mary, Kitchen God, and to whatever gods out there. I just hope that these fuckers get 5 to 10 at a maximum security federal penitentiary. I don't ask for anything longer. Not only that, but for them to get a 350 pound, tattoed cellmate, who's been there for a long, long time, with even longer to go, looking for some new blood to fuck at least two, three times a wish. If I can just get that, I would die happy.

Short Attention Span Theater

Looks like updates to my blog will be few and far between until a couple of weeks later. I'm not getting my own computer at work until next week, and by the time I come back home, I'm bushed, with an attention span of a four year old on acid and a sugar buzz, with a caffeine jolt on the side. Which is even made worse, since tomorrow, I got this boring ass luncheon I need to attend. Three to four hours long, surrounded by a bunch of balding, pot-bellied, middle aged man.

I just hope that there's some pretty waitresses that I can work on. It's not often that I'm the least repulsive guy in the group, so I gotta effectively use whenever opportunities such as these arise.

The Mask Of Cameron

I recently had a chance to watch The Mask again, and was amazed at how hot Cameron Diaz looked back then, compared to now. Before her jaw rescupturing and nose job, she was actually cute, and had an honest-to-god figure. Now she's just another head on a stick, cashing in on the name she had built.

Well, at least she has the guts to appear in films without makeup, looking comparatively bad.

Being Jun XII

Wake up. Work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work. Sleep.

The Casting Couch

With the passing away of acclaimed actor Richard Harris a few weeks back, he left behind a legacy of work, and like most great artists, unfinished work, leaving one of the most coveted roles in recent memory. That is, of course, Professor Dumbledore of Harry Potter. So now, the third movie needs a replacement. I don't know who they announced, but sometimes I get these ideas in my head that turns out to be prophetic. Submitted for you approval, here's my list of possible replacements.

1. Ian McKellen. Of course, a no brainer. Rumor has it that he turned down this role for Gandalf. And they're bound to ask him again, and since the principle photography is done, and they can work around his commitment to X-Men 2, he has a very high chance that he might play the role. And I don't think he has any troubles with his health, since he's managing to keep a boyfriend a third his age. I have this strong suspicion that he plays the bottom on THAT relationship.

2. The next strongest contender I think is Tom Wilkinson. The guy who played the middle aged laid off executive in The Full Monty and Lord Cornwallis in The Patriot. And why not? They've already cast Jason Isaacs. Sort of like a Patriot reunion.

3. Another hopeful, I think, is Jonathan Pryce. The Infiniti guy. I loved his performance in Brazil, one of the best science fiction movies out there. He's nice and old now, and British. If the Equal Employment Opportunity Commision got a hold of the casting company for the Harry Potter movies, the fines would be higher than the budget for the series.

4. My favorite though is Christopher Plummer. He deserves it, I think. He's the guy who played Baron Von Trapp in Sound Of Music, for the two people in the world who never saw that movie. Even I saw it twice, and I BE MANLY!, thus staying away from musicals almost as much as I stay away from guy's asses. And since in the third movie, Dumbledore got some parts where he has to be a little formidable, so who better that a guy who can do formidable while hopped up on painkillers and downing half a bottle of booze, without any sleep for two weeks? And then there's this sneaking suspicion I got that Dumbledore is in league with Voldemort, the guy actually controlling him...so it needs a guy who can play a good villain, as well as a good actor.

5: Other possibles: Albert Finney, Ian Holm, Sean Connery, Anthony Hopkins, Michael Caine, any other old British actor...

Conclusion: I think, although Christopher Plummer deserves it the most, if Ian McKellen turns it down, then Tom Wilkinson will get it. Although I think Albert Finney might have an outside chance of getting the role. But with that said, I still want Christopher Plummer or Jonathan Pryce to score a juicy role for a change.

Feverish Nightmare

Everyone knows that I don't like talking about my dreams. I don't mind and even enjoy hearing other peoples' dreams, but I think ME telling about what I dreamt about is trite and uninteresting. With that said, I had this odd dream last night-a dream I have occasionally. I dreamt that I was in school, and I had a girlfriend. A girlfriend that looked a little like Uma Thurman, only with dark hair. Oh, and without the body that looks like she just had a 10 year trip to Ethiopia. The odd thing was that it was so realistic, down to the messiness of my dorm room. And I woke up with a deep sense of longing. How sad and pathetic is that, huh? As I mentioned above, I've had these kinds of dreams before, although not as realistic, and I'll be fine in a little while.

Just when I thought I turned a corner, it pulls me back in. Hope since now I have a J-O-B, it will distract me until it doesn't matter anymore.

5,000 Miles To Graceland

So after three months abroad, I'm finally home. And it wasn't a total loss, really. I haven't done much of anything, but I got enough blog topics to last me a few more weeks, and I learned a couple of things about myself while I was there, as well. So I think in a long, long time, I'm finally coming back to who I was a few months ago. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing, but at least it helps me to survive. Anyways, since I'm on the ground floor now, there's no temptation.

Only thing I hate about coming back is the slow ass dialup connection. GRRRRRRRRRRRRR. Pisses me off when a page takes like 5 minutes to load. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. Oh, that, and I got a J-O-B. *shudder*