10 April 2012

combining two of my favorite things

amazing. florence welch covering otis redding. not quite sure why kanye west is sitting front row...the only two things i'd like to see combined more would be like...sugar free redbull and nicotine patches or morrissey covering phil collins...either way this song is pretty top notch.

06 April 2012

pug life

BONE PUGZ from Bone Pugz on Vimeo.

my co-workers have no idea how close they came to death today. the only thing that saved them was this video...after watching this and slapping on a few extra nicotine patches it was all puppy dogs and ice cream.

27 March 2012

bitch betta have my donuts...rain, sleet or snow

Delonte West has to be the most hood player in the NBA. I mean this video has it all:

-neck tattoos
-consuming fried chicken sprinkled with hot sauce and washing it down with 'tahiti treat fruit punch' while on the court
-getting cut up by his barber
-right to the photo shoot...HOW PLAY IS THAT MAN?
-hair braiding by the lovely Myaesha while watching spongebob on VHS
-references to 'snitches get stitches'

trains, planes, and automobiles....betta have my dooonuts

04 March 2012

corporal matthew commons

Matthew Commons
Killed in Action: Takur Ghar, Shah-i-Kot Valley
Afghanistan 4 March 2002

On March 4, 2002, Private First Class Matthew Allen Commons, was killed in Afghanistan on mission to rescue another U.S. soldier captured by al-Qaeda fighters.
Corporal Commons was the youngest of the seven American soldiers killed March 4, 2002, in the battle for Takur Ghar. Commons was on board one of two Chinook helicopters attempting to rescue Navy Seal Petty Officer 1st Class Neil Roberts who had fallen from another helicopter and been captured by three al-Qaeda fighters.
PFC Commons was posthumously promoted to Corporal and awarded the Bronze Star for Valor, the Meritorious Service Medal, and the Purple Heart.

Matthew Commons February 18, 1981 - March 4, 2002

14 June 2011

mozzer monday - my life is a succession of people saying goodbye

it's only a matter of time until you look around and all you have left is you.

that first statement may be a bit of an exaggeration...maybe you look around and all you have left is yourself, a pile of empty pabts blue ribbon cans, a quarter bottle of ketel one, an empty box of nicotine patches, half a dozen fire arms, and the escort section that you tore out of the yellow pages. or maybe you don't own those things and it really is just yourself, who knows? i suppose technically even if you did have all of those things it would still be just you - on account of those other things being, you know, inanimate objects. regardless, i have to say i'm surprised it took this long.

enough of that shit. back to top 5 lists next time.

17 May 2011

mozzer monday - last night I dreamt that somebody loved me

so it's been nearly two months since I quit smoking. granted I did have a 30 minute or so self righteous pity party in which I chained smoked half a $15 pack of stale newports sitting in the middle of the side walk on north capitol street during the middle of the day...but that's neither here nor there. so, courtesy of my uber-addictive personality i now have a full on addiction to nicotine patches. so much so that currently i'm wearing seven of the 'step one' 21mg patches, and strongly considering slappig on a few more. according to the box you're supposed to wear 'only one at a time' and move on to step two after two weeks. whatever the fuck ever. you're also not supposed to masturbate with a plastic grocery bag tied over your head - but what can i say? i like to live life on the edge. one of the many wonderful side effects of my newly accquired nicotine patch addiction, and there are many side effects which i'll cover another time, is vivid dreams. vivid dreams followed by insomnia. vivid dreams you ask? that sounds fucking amazing!!! not quite. the warning should say "vivid lame fucking dreams". for example i had a dream about this hot girl i used to really want to hook up with - but, instead of the two of us getting all liquored up and fucking like a couple of caged up jack rabbits in some secret research lab set up by the government to test the effects of mixing piles of viagra, extacy, and pabst blue ribbon...the two of us had a conversation about nail salons. yeah, pretty fucking lame. and to top it off, I haven't been able to sleep longer than three hours a night in over six weeks. and everyone wonders why i've been so god damned angry. well all that changed last night! while i wasn't able to sleep more than three hours, i had a bad ass dream! long story short, i got an email from dr. dre telling me he needed to make a reservation for his house keeper at my hotel - seemed completely normal to me. so naturally him and i become instant buddies and we start talking about how i almost bought a pair of his 'beats by dre.' headphones, but how i'm a 30 year old white boy who owes it to himself not to be walking around wearing 'beats by dre' headphones even though they sound ten times better than the pair i ended up buying, then i asked him when he was going to be in another movie because he totally kicked ass in training day (affleck - you the bomb in phantoms yo!). so then i asked him how many people come up to him on the street or anywhere random and give him their demo and how annoying that must be, at which point he starts to say yeah it's kinda crazy... and i cut him off to ask, what? if you guessed 'can i send you my demo?' than you are exactly right. so he asked me what I sound like and i remember exactly what i said -"i sound just like eminem - accept way angrier" then I woke up covered in sweat and nicotine patches and it was a mere two hours after i had gone to sleep - wide the fuck awake but completely exhausted. so 'last night I dreamt that i sent my demo to dre' doesn't have quite the ring to it as the original.

16 May 2011

mozzer monday - will never marry

do women reach a certain age where every psuedo-relationship has to include the possibility of ending in marriage? it strikes me as very odd that someone i wasn't even dating, would 'break up' with me because i made it clear that i didn't want to ever get married. i fully understood it happening when a girl who i actually was dating - broke up with me because i didn't propose to her, those late to my nuerotic blog posts can refer to mozzer monday - i'm throwing my arms around paris, to re-live that particular ill-fated relationship. but a girl who i wasn't dating...that's a bit odd even by my admittedly low standards. i've also covered in depth how my favorite part of any relationship is the end of said relationship...i can't even take solace in the self loathing misery that usually accompanies someone breaking up with me because - well i wasn't at all attached. the nerve of her.

so a bit of a back story. i've been seeing this girl for maybe two and a half months, and at the risk of sounding like a complete piece of shit, never once while i was sober. in fact it was to the point that i would have to leave work - drink a half dozen pbr's and four vodka tonics just to be able to meet up with her for drinks. mind you she's not with out her positive points. that sounds way more scum-baggish than it is in reality...at least by my warped point of view.

i feel as if in order for this story to end with me keeping some sort of respect i have to get way more introspective than i was planning on. in the greatest movie of all time, john cusack points out that 'it's not what you're like - it's what you like. books, movies, music - these are the things that really matter' and while that may sound like a very shallow way to look at things, it's entirely true. and by that measure, she strikes out on every level. someone who by their own admission 'isn't that into music' and wakes up in the morning singing carrie underwood songs accompanied by the comment 'i guess i only really like country music' - ignoring the obvious fact that not only does current country music suck complete ass, but more importantly carrie underwood is hardly country music...or even listenable for that matter. additionally, her favorite band is/was cowboy mouth - a band that is the adult equivalent of the wiggles. don't get me wrong - crappy, tacky, nonsense pop music has a place in life, i've been known to sing mmmbop just because...well just because it's fucking mmmmbop. the point being, when you're into music, or books - i hesitate to call it literature, because i'm currently reading a book on the history of the ak-47 (it's a page turner - highly reccommend it, how else would i have come to learn that the ak-47 is nicknamed the 'african credit card') and movies/films - being around someone who isn't into any of those things seems ludicrous. but i'm getting away from the original point.

fast forward to last week. her birthday was friday. we were supposed to hang out monday, and something came up that i had to cancel, and tuesday - i had to cancel too. so tuesday night she texted me that i had 'ruined her birthday week'. her birthday week? what sort of petulant child needs an entire week to celebrate their birthday? she remarked that she liked to make plans every night of the week during her so-called 'birthday week' to celebrate. a grown woman. needs to celebrate everynight of the week. ok. so friday - i go out for happy hour with a co-worked of mine so i can get a bit of a buzz going before i meet her and her friends to celebrate, the culmination of her 'birthday week' her fucking birthday. a day which she took the entire day off of work to celebrate - i can only imagine if she hadn't she would have brought cup cakes in for the entire office, the way my eight year old son does to his second grade class, just in case anyone didn't realize it was her birthday. so we have some drinks and go to another bar to have a couple more drinks until i'm properly ready to handle her in a state i can only imagine to be the epitome of annoying self absorbed mid-30's female. i manage to convince said co-worker to go with me and he begrudgingly agrees.

the actual get together at the bar isn't too bad, i get in an argument with one of her friends who is prosecutor with the dc public courts and tell her she must have no ambition otherwise she'd have become a defense lawyer. then somehow i get in an argument with the shitty attorney about bull fighting which she tries to defend by saying that even though the bulls are at a distinct disadvantage, you know what with the picadores stabbing it with spears and shit, because the bulls lead a good life until they get killed. to which i asked if it would be okay if i went to her house and lopped the head off of her cat with a sword because, you know it lived a better life than a stray alley cat for a few years. my co-worked and i had been there for maybe three hours and they decide to get the check and everyone is presumably going their seperate ways - enter the check, i hand one of the birthday girl's friends my credit card for my share and my co-worker does the same. we go outside - me, to get some second hand smoke, him to get some first hand. we return to find that our share is $70 each. There were six of us, not including the birthday girl. her other friends had all conveniently settled up their portion of the check. i'm no mathematician but six people at $70 bucks each adds up to $420.00. i'm not going to get into the fact that i got bamboozled and i'm fairly certain everyone else threw in like $20, i know what a $420 bar tab looks like - and we didn't come close to it. whatever, i didn't make a big deal of it.

the evening ends at the birthday girl's apartment with her, her best friend, her gay friend, and me. somehow the subject of gay marriage comes up and i say - although i fully support gay marriage, i can't understand why anyone would want to get married in the first place, and how i thought one of the advantages of being gay is that you don't have to worry about ever getting a constant barrage of 'when are we getting married' questions. well, needless to say - that didn't go over well with anyone. anway a bit later we got to why i though she invited me in the first place. the next morning she woke me up at like 7am and told me the keys were by the door she had to catch an early flight or something - presumably to make it to her 'birthday vacation', or some shit, and to lock up when i left. i debated having a house party, but instead opted to just have a wank in her bed before i left...you know, on account of the fact that i wasn't able to, at the risk of sounding too crass, complete the previous night, plus she has some bad ass expensive looking foo foo lotion in her bathroom - lanolin and aloe vera? SCORE!!! (sidenote - you know you're good and fucked up when you have to ask 'did i just cum?' and the answer is - no. and you know, maybe, you have a bit of a drinking problem when that's not the first, second, or third time you've asked that before.)

so earlier tonight - the no longer birthday girl calls me to say that she's been thinking about what i said about marriage, and how she does want to get married someday, and unless i'm willing to consider it - we're through. this is not the first time she's brought up marriage...the first time being - the first fucking night we met, and i made my position very clear. second off - i didn't know we were whatever the opposite of through is before she said we were through. so i said - ok, well i'm not interested in getting married. i left out especially not to you - fuck, we're not even dating. too which she starts crying and says something like, 'i just don't want to get my heart broken'. i really can't even begin to comprehend the insanity that accompanies a statement like that towards someone you've been, at best, casually sleeping with.

point being, i don't feel that in order to validate my own being i need to be in a relationship or worse - married. relationships are shitty, and i'm far too lazy and selfish to put in the required work that goes along with being in one. i once stopped mid-thrust during sex because michigan was playing for the ncaa hockey national championship and i didn't want to miss it - plus jerking off is way better, way better. i've actually had the thought whilst mid-coitus before of, 'oh wow - i can't wait to jerk off to this later'. as you can see i'm a bit selfish and self centered like that.

there's a craft fair that was taking place down the street from where i live a few weeks ago and as i was driving by there were all these couples walking down the street towards it, hand in hand. the men, with a few exceptions - i assumed they were gay, had the look that said 'i'd rather be anywhere in the fucking world than right here'. that's the beauty of not being in a relationship. i don't have to do anything i don't want to do. no craft fairs, scrapbooking classes, weekend couples retreats, pampered chef parties, i don't have to worry about being nice to my girlfriend/wife's annoying friends when they come over to watch the sex and the city marathon, none of that shit.

i don't understand the mindset of someone deadset on getting married. let alone someone who has the goal of getting married. say for sake of argument that the average person has ten meaningful relationships in their life and the tenth and final one ends in marriage, they have a 90% failure rate in relationships. it's nothing more than naive to think that the tenth one is the magic relationship that is going to be the 'special one' that lasts forever. and why would you want it to last forever? you really want to grow old with someone? fuck that - old people creep me the fuck out. there i am sitting in some retirement home just waiting, begging to die except the nurses and orderlies keep feeding me pills and doing elective surgeries just because my wife wants to keep me alive so she can keep cashing my social security checks and the nurses agree so they can keep riffling through my personal belongings to sell on e-bay to support their own crystal meth addiction. not only do i have to deal with the whole, not being dead thing - but i have to look over at my old ass nasty wife - all vericose veiny, hair falling out, saggy tits, cankles, bald spots, ashy elbows, saddle bags, the dreaded - gunt, bacne, panty dandruff, menopause enduced hot flashes, urinary incontinence, vaginal halitosis, wearing orthopedic shoes and adult diapers, riding around on a rascal all fucking hunch backed and osteoporosis-ized and shit. and i keep yelling - 'till death do us part - fucking kill me please!!!!' no thanks. whoah, that got weird for a minute.

love - someday someone is going to add up the cost of that particular illusion

10 May 2011

why don't you sit there and bleed a while before you feel some real pain

i been pumping pussy since christ was a corporal. i can tell you, the best damned poontang I ever paid for was in da nang. the girls were checked out daily and we got ourself laid in a safe, orderly, proficient, military manner. that is until some suckhead writes home to mama and says he dipped his wick in the republic of south vietnam. then the shit hits the fan. a committee of congressmen who asshole to asshole couldn't make a beer fart in a whirlwind, start telling your basic-ass-in-the-grass marine " no more short time ". we responded in true marine corps fashion. we salute, do an about face, double time back to the boom-boom garbage dump where we get the clap, and the drip, and the crabs and a generally poor attitude towards the female of the species. war is hell, boy - that's a fact!

i don't like soldier boys

say what?

if you wanna pop that puppy's can you don't have to grease him so hard, jarhead.

well, it sounds like you're a man of experience.

what the hell's that supposed to mean, grunge shit.

it means: ve advised. i'm mean, nasty and tired. i eat concertina wire and piss napalm and I can put a round in a flea's ass at 200 meters. so you go hump somebody else's leg, mutt face, before I push yours in.

ain't gonna be so smart with your balls stuffed in your mouth, jarhead!

[hands cigar to the young man] hang on to this, boy. i think war's just been declared.

29 April 2011

i'm in a glass case of emotion

lee greenwood can suck my ass...

holy shit balls. baseball is fucking boring. pair that with some fat fuck who thinks that standing up when they play 'proud to be an american' makes him the biggest patriot since...who was that fucker that said - one if by land, two if by sea? that guy, regardless - fuck him. fuck him and his fat ass one cheeseburger away from a wheelchair fucking wife. and if you're a baseball fan - fuck you too. that felt good.

UPDATE: it's Paul Revere..it's tough trying to remember historical events when you're writting a post on your phone while sitting at a picnic table at nationals park drunk and angry.