Funniness Negates Wrongness
Friday, July 08, 2005
Rock Solid...
Don Rickles is looking really bad...
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Bad Kissers
Thursday. Almost Friday. Yay. Or maybe you're reading this on Friday and you're thinking "Thursday? That was yesterday. What kind of fucked-up timewarp is Rifleman living in?". To which I reply, "You're a fucking moron". And not the funny kind of twenty-something moron that you see in mall food courts accompanied by their poor parents feeding them Sbarro with a spoon while thinking "Why the hell did I have to raise the kind of kid that would turn out to be the kind of moron who would dive into a above-ground swimming pool from an adjacent roof, hitting the bottom head-first with 18 inches of their legs sticking out of the water and their spine turned into an accordian?". Those kind of morons are funny. Mainly because it's funny to see a 27-year-old drool.

I awoke this morning, took a shower, got dressed and headed to work. On the way to work, I flipped on the BBC World Service and discovered that brown people had once again deigned to strike fear into our freedom-loving hearts by detonating bombs on the London Underground and on one of those wacky double-decker busses. Instead of terrorizing us, they just provided more excuses to kill brown people. What can brown do for you? It can die!

A friend of mine, who shall remain nameless, recently commented that a girl was a bad kisser. I've always heard this term, but have never been able to decide if there was some kind of concensus as to what makes a person a bad kisser. I mean, I've kissed a lot of women, and yeah, some were definitely different than others. But I wouldn't say any were bad, but that might just be because the whole time I was probably thinking, "Have I kissed her long enough to get her to take off her top?" and not "This chick could probably kiss a bit better".

Some people probably like too much saliva, forceful tongue-action and toothiness when they kiss. And I can't begrudge them that. I mean, that certainly beats kissing a toothless Asian whore with cottonmouth, eh?

Looking at the big picture, I can see where bad kissing would actually probably rank higher than bad oral sex-giver in the scheme of things. And here's why: if you're involved with someone, you're going to be kissing them a lot more often than they're going to be going down on you. So you might as well enjoy the kissing, eh? It'd be a fucked up world if people gave oral sex in public but reserved kissing for the most intimate of moments, like in the bedroom or in the back of a Greyhound Bus. Could you imagine President Bush descending the steps from Air Force One at Charles De Gaulle Airport in Paris and at the bottom of the steps in Jacques Chirac waiting to welcome him to France. As Bush reaches the bottom of the steps, he shakes hands with Chirac. Chirac, being both French and swarthy, would normally give Bush those little kisses on each cheek like creepy Europeans are wont to do, but in this case, he kneels in front of the President, unzips his zipper and starts to go down on him. That'd be odd.

But I'd like to see it. You know, because France can suck the United States collective dicks.
Why Do I Always Attract The Kee-razy Ones?
6:32pm "So we cant hang out, drink, play pool, play flirt? I wasnt
expecting a bf or anything, i just thought we could have fun."

6:46pm "Well ok then. i guess i misunderstood that whole thing. i
guess i'll leave you alone. i dig you alot though, i think we have a
lot in common."

6:54pm "Shank, i didnt EXPECT you to like me any more. What the hell
happened between fri and now? i already knew it wouldnt be more than friends. Im not your ex."

6:58pm "In fact, i didn't even expect you to want to be friends with
me, but you did, and i thought that was cool as fuck."

7:00pm "and it kinda hurt my feelings to just be blown off, but im
really trying to keep u as my friend, at least."

7:04pm "I could very easily get attached to you. But i PROMISE i wont
let myself. Ok? you dont have to guard yourself so hard. So can we
lighten up again?"

7:12pm "K? So when do i get another ride?=)"

7:17pm "I really didnt mean to stress you out Shanky. Sorry. You are
a pretty cute mofo though, lol."

7:21pm "At least now you know i really dont expect your left ball just
cuz were cool with each other."

7:35pm "So can i still kiss you?=)"

7:41pm "Im kinda seeing someone. Which is why i shouldnt have in the
first place. I feel kinda bad about it"

Longer Shank:
7:42pm "Right on, good luck with that....."
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Workin' it out...
Likesay, it's already the middle of the fucking week. Yay. Or yay! (though I'm never that fucking enthused about anything these days) The middle of the fucking week. That is, if you can really have a middle of a four-day work week. I guess that'd probably actually be sometime around midnight tonight, eh? And what have I done that's noteworthy this week? Nothing. I mean, I slept off a hangover on Monday, so the fireworks were in my head for the Fourth. Got up Tuesday and went to the gym, as 'Shank and I hadn't gone in our usual Monday timeslot. Went to work, went to 'Shank's for dinner, came home, played Literati, "played around on the internet", went to sleep. And started all over again this morning. At the gym. At five. Five in the fucking morning. Four whole hours before I have to really be anywhere near work. Three hours before I'd normally even think about getting up. But it's worth it. I feel better from working out. Feel healthier. Slowly shedding some weight, so I guess that's good, eh?

But the gym? At five in the fucking morning, there are some odd people out. First off, there's the woman we like to call Skeletor. Because she looks like a fucking skeleton. I'm waiting for her to just whither away one day. Every morning, I'm afraid the cartilage in her nose is going to break off, or maybe her vertabrae will crack while she does isometrics on the Swiss ball. I like to think that after she's finished at the gym, she goes home and climbs back into her casket.

Then there's the black woman who always wears ARMY t-shirts. Though I doubt she was ever in the United States Army. Or the KISS Army for that matter (not too many black KISS fans, eh?). She just kind of sits on the equipment, occasionally doing one rep here or there. With no weight. Look, if you just want to watch TV, basic cable is probably cheaper. And that one rep here and there is never going to get rid of that ghetto booty. Laziness.

Then there's Crunchy. Crunchy is this plastic-looking guy who is always wearing a weight-lifting belt and monopolizes the Ab Hammer crunch machine. Like black army chick, he might do one or two reps there, but I think he really just comes to the gym looking for hot man-sex hookups. Fag.

Swingy kind of wraps up the odd motley crew of the early-morning gym crowd. Swingy gets his name from the fact that he kind of just stands around swinging dumb bells to-and-fro. Now, if you were actually using muscle to move the dumb bells, this might be good exercise. However, Swingy uses momentum and inertia and centripetal force and ergs and foot-pounds and other phyics shit like that to move the dumb bells, relying on a minimum exertion to keep everything in motion. Oh, and you can tell he's an asshole just by looking at him.

Luckily, there's hot trainer chick to balance things out. Perfect body. Cute face. Good muscle tone. Cute freckles. Some red hair would balance everything out nicely, in my opinion. I might mention that to her sometime.

Because, you know, a good slap would really help wake me up at five in the morning.