I was watching an episode of The Wire the other day, because that’s exactly the kind of with-it, up-to-date guy I am. My middle name is Zeitgeist. I have my finger so firmly on the pulse of this nation that I’m about to steal the nation’s watch. I am hep to the jive, even though I’m not sure what the word “hep” means, and up until a week ago, I thought that “the jive” was something that you treated with hydrocortisone. I am up to fucking date is what I’m saying, just as long as that date is June 2nd, 2002. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go dance the Charleston on top of a flagpole. Continue reading

I came to realize today that I really hate receipts. It’s not uncommon for me to be struck with realizations like this throughout the course of a day. “Hey! I’m at a funeral!” I’ll realize with a start. “And everyone’s looking at me! And I’m not wearing pants! Again!” You know, the normal kind of realization that occurs when you’re fond of mainlining tequila and antifreeze. Continue reading

In the time that I’ve been alive on the planet, I’ve experienced an almost mind boggling amount of great rock music. The Beatles were still a band when I was born, even if they were lugging around that crazy, shrieking Japanese chick everywhere they went. Led Zeppelin came and went. The Rolling Stones… Well, they were here at the beginning, and they will outlast us all. After the nukes rain down and end this little dog and pony show that we call humanity, Mick and Keith will still manage to wheel their dried up, withered husks onstage and play Start Me Up to an audience of radioactive cockroaches and Twinkies. Continue reading

It has long been known that the laws of physics, while limiting in some ways, often offer avenues to bypass these same limits. We may not be able to travel faster than the speed of light, but we can OD on cocaine, Red Bull, and jimsonweed and it certainly feels like we’re running faster than the speed of light. That cop that was chasing us? That donut-scarfing tub of authority is long gone. We are free to fly around the universe unfettered, at least until we run out of blow, or possibly wake up to realize that we hallucinated the entire thing in a novelty photo-booth at the mall. (It’s been known to happen.) Continue reading

I understand that’s a kind of ridiculous question, for a couple of reasons. First of all, if you’re going to be asking questions about Miley Cyrus, there are a lot of other ones that spring to mind first: What the fuck is wrong with Miley Cyrus’ face? What the fuck is wrong with Miley Cyrus’ tongue? What the fuck is wrong with Miley Cyrus? What the fuck is wrong with people who think that Miley Cyrus is anything other than a horse-faced retard? The list is damn near endless. Continue reading

If God has a plan for each and every creature on this green planet, then He must have put pigeons here for me to throw buckets of flaming gasoline on, because that’s where things are headed right about now. I have had it with fucking pigeons. Continue reading

No doubt you’ve all read about the recent excommunication of LA Clippers owner Donald Sterling, who went from being a respected NBA owner to worse than Hitler faster than you can say fried chicken and watermelon. That he was unmasked by his younger, minority girlfriend, who loved him enough to take his money, but not quite enough to keep his loonball racist rants out of the press only serves to prove that the entire incident was shady and awkward from beginning to end, and the only real winner was ESPN, who got to convert their corporate moral outrage into ratings so that they can increase the amount of money they set aside to send dick pics to female interns. Continue reading

I haven’t been posting a lot lately since my medical issues began taking a turn for the weird. What started off as garden variety back pain suddenly morphed into a bunch of weird symptoms that had me running back and forth to the doctor’s office, I suspect because “take these and see me in two weeks” is medical jargon for “I don’t know what the fuck that is, and hopefully if I send you away you’ll die before coming back and I won’t have to deal with this.” You think I’m being paranoid, but I’m pretty sure that health care providers aren’t supposed to yell “Dead man walking!” when you leave the examination room. Continue reading

It used to be that when you had a medical issue that needed immediate attention, you headed down to your local Urgent Care facility where they placed you in the Patient Aging Area, and you were left there for five or six hours. This was done so that, on the off chance that you didn’t have anything wrong with you in the first place, prolonged exposure to your fellow patients would ensure that by the time you got to see a doctor, you at least had something wrong with you, and you weren’t wasting the doctor’s valuable time. The doctor would then tell you that there was “something going around”, give you some antibiotics, and send you home, tremendously relieved that you weren’t terribly sick unless, of course, you went to Urgent Care with an arrow sticking out of your neck, in which case they maybe gave you some Tylenol with Codeine to keep you happy enough not to sue. Continue reading

Quite some time ago, I received an email from an admiring reader in the UK. At least, I think he’s an admiring reader. He didn’t include the standard, non-admirer terms that usually tip me off, such as “illliterate dumbfuck”, “escaped zoo chimp with a spellchecker”, and “tragic waste of the human spirit”. He also failed to threaten to report me to the “internet police”, and so I’m only able to draw the conclusion that he’s an admirer, or failing that, at least he doesn’t want to set my teeth on fire. Continue reading