The NFL Sucks Dick!

I just read something in the news that makes me sick to my fucking stomach:

"Individual celebration was getting out of hand," Fisher said Monday at the NFL meetings. "The players' association was unanimous in wanting to get this under control." Another complainer added: "They are not necessary and should not be allowed."

NFL, you make me sick, literally. And even worse you make me angry. And this goes to anybody who wants to curtail or does curtail celebrations of any kind. You all make me sick. You all make Jesus sick too. And so I say to all you make-me-sickers: get a life and leave others' alone. Just because you're not having fun, just because you're not winning, doesn't give you the right to spoil anyone else's fun and winning. What are you trying to do? Something annoys you and so you want to make a rule and then we all know how rules eventually trickle down into the lawbooks. Our prisons are already full, people! You have to start relying on yourself for happiness, because I guarantee you miserable assholes will still be miserable after the whole fucking world is put in jail or executed!

~Feel the Mirth!

Homme Life

There's an apology to be issued somewhere over the last post. Apparently somebody flew off the wall in reaction to something. People fly off the wall for many reasons, though, it's nothing new. Problem? No pasa nada.
There is something to be said for something or other and otherwise will be said some things to be said.
Sayeth he: Return now to your home. Why are you wandering about like a chicken in the wind. Don't you care about your friends? Come ye and honor thyself with good company. Your fellows await with German Beer and so soon after Paddy's Day.
Sayeth She: I know you inside and out and I'm afraid I can hardly muster a reply, but know this: I am deeply flattered. To be touched is surely delightful, but to be loved is heavenly bliss. You offer me both and I want to die. Death, my friend, is too frightening and so I stray forever away from ye lover of death.
sayeth he: sunken treasure. Oh the sea fairs well on the bottom and I'm so tired of these waves. To know is to be dead on the bottom, dead to the world, dead dead in all but the head, and I'd give it up but who'll take it?

Which reminds me about that good shit I took the other day. It reminded me of chopsticks, though I couldn't put words to it at the time. It was only this morning that I realized my shit looked like chopsticks. There was a beautiful picture to be made from it. One of a kind for sure. Shit, I will take you as you come and hope I'll never miss you. And on that we will break shit, but extraordinarily.

Hair

I know what it's like to grow long fingernails. I grew some long fingernails (on one hand anyway). I think I let them grow for a month or two before I cut em. This was a year or two ago. It was neat. I could tap them on the table and make music. They felt really cool, like getting a haircut feels cool. My hair got pretty long too at that time, and it is still relatively long, especially compared to how it's been my whole life before. I like the way it blows in the wind. It feels cool, even if it often looks like shit to others. A mere impulse could make me shave it all off, but I haven't had one yet. I did have an impulse, however, two weeks ago, and for the first time I trimmed my arm pit hairs pretty much down to the skin. I didn't shave em because I figured that would itch too much. It feels cool, really. And my deodorant was easier to apply. One thing I've been annoyed with lately is my toe hair. I don't shower every day and I have to wear socks because it's cold outside, so I get toe jam. When I unlock the jam it always manages to catch on a toe hair somewhere and to get it off I have to pull a little bit on them and that hurts, or tickles, I'm not sure which, but in any case I don't like it. I don't know if I'll ever trim my toe hair though, we'll see. I thought about trimming my leg hair yesterday. I've gotten comments about my hairy legs before. Before I had really hairy legs I thought it was cool to have hairy legs. I still think it's cool and I don't foresee myself trimming those hairs anytime soon, but I'll keep my mind open to it, as in everything. Do I have time to talk about crotch hair? Why not? That's my favorite question in spanish, ?por que no? Ass hair is annoying when you have certain kinds of shit, so off with it. Ball hair and all crotch hair itches, so off with it. Why does it grow back? Stupid fucking hair. Of course, if you wanted it to grow it wouldn't. I've had a receding hair line since high school. It doesn't seem to be getting worse, but it probably is. I'm not too self-conscious about it though, thank god. I'm not gonna fight it. If my hair falls out, it falls out. I can't seem to get any pussy with the hair I have anyways, so off with it. Some girls like bald men. Look at all those basketball players. They get tons of ass. I only want one, so the odds are in my favor when I lose my hair. Some people shave their chest hair. I don't. I like it and it doesn't itch too much so I keep it there. It looks good I think, but who knows what women think? Can they see through my shirt? Belly hair is okay, but I keep it trimmed because for some reason it grows longer than my chest hair, and it itches more and there's also a lint problem occasionally. I don't have ear hair yet, but nose hair I trim once in a while.

Damn it, now I'm pissed. What a fucking shit. Que te den por el fucking culo.

The Dream of a Ridiculous Man

"There always was a sharp pang of anguish in my hatred of the men of our earth; why could I not hate them without loving them too? Why could I not forgive them? And in my love for them too, there was a sharp pang of anguish: why could I not love them without hating them?"

Cowards

What cowards we have running our country. Every time something bad happens they run and hide behind new legislation. Wimps. Wimpy little cry-babies. "Oh, my God! I'm suffering! Make the pain go away! Please, make a new law! Sign the bill! Extend the Patriot Act! Oh, God! They're gonna come and shoot me! Please! For the love of God don't let them shoot me!"

This message brought to you by an apparently comfortable American newswatcher and temporary representative of Feel The Mirth! Blog. Are you feeling the mirth?

Girls

This guy looked at me with disgust covering every inch of his demeanor. I was very much offended by this look. And then he said something strange, like I was in California, or he was in California. Which was it? I've never been to California but I assumed that California was fun. California is fun. They get a lot of sunshine over there, and nude women. This guy was not naked. He had clothes on. Very drab clothes they were, and his mustache was singing some sort of eighties remix of angry opera music. That mustache was absolutely horrific. It defined every bit of ugliness inside this man, this would be role model and friend. I think I will have nightmares.

I wanted to do a diddy. Now I talk of, what was it? I logged on, I had a topic. It was ugly. I've always been afraid of the word ugly. I rarely used it ever, and today I was supposed to tackle this ugliness. There was a horrible ugliness that occurred. Two days ago. And afterward I was very relieved. I could hardly believe that I felt relieved. My initial reaction was, "here we go again, back on the ugly train, and around and round we go", but soon after I jumped off that train, and I haven't felt more relieved in over two years. I feel real good. And why not?

Anyways, oh yes, that was it. It was the misery that went along on this train. The misery. I remember now. How could I forget! I live in the asshole of the world! Is it mostly the old people? Sometimes I think so (old people are stupid in a lot of ways). So if I were to take a little survey I would find that people around here are troublesome for me. They're too smart for their own good. Smarts are so overrated. Smart is dumb. Smart is dumb, smart is dumb, what you gonna do you bum! People are troublesome everywhere, but I'm not too concerned with what I don't see. All I really am concerned about is that people around me, people that I see every day, are more or less assholes. They will like you only on their conditions, and these rules are malicious, like torture. I can only bear to laugh so long under the knife. Then I crack up!
It doesn't have to be any way in particular, that's all.
I'm wearing a Molson shirt and Miller Lite hat today. It's several hours till beer-thirty, and I suppose I will miss another appointment. What a hypocrite. Nobody likes a hypocrite and everybody is one! Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.