2012年4月18日 ABV #0001

Sometimes, during drinking my eyes feel heavy. Like wearing a lead vest during an X-ray, we wonder if it's the weight or if it's the comfort of the weight that makes us sleepy. Actually I don't give a fuck what it makes you feel, but it makes me feel sleepy, or rather comfortable enough to get sleepy, except I'm worried about being molested by the attendant taking the x-rays. It feels good to feel sleepy. It feels good to feel good while feeling sleepy. You have no idea what it feels like to be able to be so happy and yet so tired. No one has any idea, except Wainwright that guy buzzes out pretty fast.

***

What happens when the weight is from something else? What happens when the weight feels good? The right amount of pressure? Pressurized cabin? How the fuck did someone figure out how much physical pressure my body likes? Didn't they know I prefer blanket first? That and more beer on this flight, thank you.

Did I have 9 or 10 en route to Japan, I can't even remember. I think it was nine. Good start. I could hear part of my dad talking to me in the back of my head.

Breathing in, my eyes roll back. I think it flashed white briefly. I don't know. Everything seems labored. It's even better when it's just the right amount of labor. When it feels like a large eagle has decided to rest on my nape, while stretching his wings. It has to be a he. Why? Because I said so. However, if the eagle is spread eagle on my shoulders, then it's a she. Because a dude spreading eagle on my shoulders requires some money first.

Gary sings in the background as I look towards the vacant kitchen. I have not been this hungry is long time, I have no idea why.

My phone vibrates and a message shows up:

"Good for you. After an incident Saturday night, I'm actually contemplating getting one. I feel like a hypocrite."

Do you want mine? You can borrow it. 

For as long as you need.

Just don't fucking sell, that's my job.

Because I need beer, or rather I need to slow down sometimes.
Sometimes I'm moving too fast.

2011年11月20日 Time for oneself

After a ritualized luncheon with Fozzjnen, the following dialog happened on our way to his car.

Fozzjnen: "I have next week off, so I'm going to play Skyrim every day. All day."
Me: "What about your kid?"Fozzjnen: "Well, since I'm going to drop him off at day care I can play all day."
Me: "What the hell? Heheh. How does that work? Why pay for day care just to play?"Fozzjnen: "I'm in a contract, so really it doesn't matter if take the kid or not. I still end up having to pay."
Me: "So when is the earliest you can drop the kid off then?"
Fozzjnen: "Haha, 6am."
Me: "So that's like what, 12 hours of gaming and drinking?"

I'm not sure of when the last time Fozzjnen had some real alone at home time, and frankly I didn't want to ask. But I didn't have to, since I knew the answer. The answer I didn't know, was whether or not he could marathon beer like I did when I watched his house several years ago. 

At least 3 different, and visible,
types of beer in the fridge

He was gone for about 3 weeks, and like a good friend I stayed at his house feeding his fish and eating his food. There were two things he couldn't understand when he got back. The first was how I was able to double his electricity bill. But that's not as important as the second: over 35 dollars in empty cans and bottles. With each can or bottle worth five cents. 

I remember drinking around 150 cans or so of Diet Rite and Coke and I remember drinking around 230 beers or so, but I cannot account for the extra 320 bottles and cans. The only evidence I have of this today is a few pictures showing the corners of empty boxes and 66+ bottle caps of miscellaneous beer. And collecting the bottle caps was only after I realized I ought to keep some as a form of recording how many I've had. According to the numbers I've given, I would've had to drink at least 33 beers per day or so. I have no idea how I did this, as I had no parties or anything of that nature.

This was only after I realized
I should start

So basically Fozzjnen and I were debating on how many beers he could have before he had to pick up his kid from daycare. Would he be able to drive? Probably not. Can he pick his kid up in a cab? Would they actually LET him take his own kid home if he was visibly drunk and using a cab? Why is that a problem? I don't think it is, at least not yet. 

Remember that power-drinking requires A LOT of skill. It's not about going out and getting thrashed. It's about sustaining LONG-term buzz. And sustaining a long-term buzz requires a lot of work. Somehow when I did it, I was still able to go to school, sleep, and go to work. I have no idea how this was done. If recall correctly, my Grandma passed away too only a few months before. Huh. Well I doubt that had anything to do with it, although as she was passing, I sat there in front of her with my cousin pounding two 20 ouncers.

"I gotta wake my ass up at six AM every day of
this week and drag myself up to Vascalinas. Yeah, 

I'm doing the drywall up there at the new McDonalds."
-Lawrence, Office Space

Somehow I'm pretty well versed with the power-drinking. If I remember correctly with Wainwright,  he even  pussed out when we lived together when my remedy for boredom was power-drinking and Netflix. I don't blame for wimping out, since it is difficult to sustain power-drinking with beers above or at 6.3 ABV. I won't deny, however, that power-drinking isn't for the weak of heart, or rather, weak of liver. I don't blame anyone for being a big pussy, unable to power-drink, but frankly it REALLY is a lot of work and it takes a lot of discipline, kind of like voting for Ron Paul and bragging about it.

So yeah, however you spend alone time, as long as you aren't doing something that you normally do during the mundane week, I suppose it's alright, just like power-drinking. So go out there, and spend some time alone that is different than how you normally spend time when you are alone and around others.

Don't forget bring some money.

2011年9月19日 Un-welcomed visitors at the door?

Some people have often said my behavior when answering doors or dealing with awkward situations at home is excessive. Once when Wainwright and I still lived with each other, sometime around 11:50pm I heard a loud knocking on the apartment door. I was extremely bothered by this, since my friends know to call in advance. I had no idea who would be and since my apartment did not have a peephole I grabbed a gun. I answered the door, and low and behold my (usually)-drunk-and-potato-loving friend was at the door. I told him I was extremely bothered by him not calling, to which Dapl (Drunk-And-Potato-Loving) didn't see a problem, until I said, "Well, at least let me put this away." We chatted briefly and then he went home.

At a later date Dapl reminded me of that situation saying I was "waving a gun around." when he came to visit. To which I replied, "You didn't call. It's my home, and at no point was I 'waving a gun around.'" He could not come up with a good argument, other than he thought my reaction was extreme. Only Wainwright and I knew much about our place. At no point do strangers belong near or in front of our apartment due to its rigid design. Had wainwright continued to stay in the USA and we continued to live there, I would have bought him his own piece, and he knows it.

Another instance happened when I was still in high-school. My mom and I lived in an apartment complex. I was sleeping on the couch and I think it was around 11pm or later, when a low and continuous knocking woke up me. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a knife, hiding it behind my thigh pointing the blade towards the ground. The knocking must have continued for at least a solid minute, without end, even until I approach the door. When I answered to the door, a cop standing with sub-machine gun in low-ready position, although not pointed at me, was only two and a half feet away.

I was so dumbfounded, especially from just waking up, I had no idea what to do. He began to inform me that the police were in the area looking for three suspects and if I knew anything. 

"Uh, hold on just a moment, I need to set this down first." I took a step back, leaving the door wide open for him, and in the most non-threatening manner I could provide I sat the knife down on a table near the door. When that cop saw the knife his eyes literally exploded from his skull. He took one careful step back, but still kept his weapon in the low-ready position with the barrel away of my general direction. 

Outside of his head actually exploding, I think that's the furthest anyone could bug their eyes out. I began to speak telling him I didn't notice anything until he knocked on the door. "Well, thanks sir, goodnight." And it was over as soon as it started.

Watching E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial with my mom and nephew this weekend reminded me of what people think of questionable behavior in general and it's the reason I brought up those two separate stories. There was a specific scene in the film where Elliot (the main character) rushes into his house to tell his mom, brother and his brother's friends that there is a "goblin outside!" His brother and friends laugh, until they realize Elliot is serious, at which point they immediately proceed to the kitchen to grab knives. 

The first thought in my mind was teamwork! Unfortunately, the rest of my family nor society subscribes to my feelings on this issue. You can see the full scene here, albeit in German.

All of my friends are always welcomed, most of them know me well enough not to surprise me. Thankfully, most of my friends agree with my pro-life stance on un-welcomed visitors. For those who don't, take a good look at what could happen. I'm not saying live in fear, because I wasn't afraid to answer the door, as I did answer the door. Yet, I am not going to answer the door without actually being prepared. 

How many people actually go out of their way to buy cars without air-bags? It's the same thing, tools are there for your safety, and ideally it's best if we die without ever having to use them (even once).

Most people forget that thieves, killers and rapists subscribe to the following mentality.

Today we were unlucky, but remember we only have to be lucky once. You will have to be lucky always. - A statement released by the IRA (1984)

Staying safe has never felt so good.

2011年8月23日 Miracles

I don't believe in them.

The short version is that I was more or less kicked out of my mom's apartment, in the middle of my recovery, and with nowhere really to go. It wasn't even her choice, nor did she really have one, which bothered her.

Somehow I did luck out and now I'm staying with my aunt on the other side of Portland. I often see black people, which surprises me since the side of Portland and beyond has very few.

Happenings in my brain.

It's further away from anything I'm remotely familiar with, and I have to get up and leave significantly earlier than I'd like, but it seems to be not that bad. So far.

I woke up around 4:50 AM so I could get to work on time, which actually translates to early. Even when Wainwright and I lived together, I often liked to get to work early.

As for the morning, cheap musk trying its best to conceal the odor of malt liquor at 5:50am reminded me of several things. Then the creature sat in front of me, and no surprise, but the horrible lingering scent of cheap cigarettes dominated the air around me, and removed the previous less promising smells that accompanied him. Just sitting there, I felt as if the stench from the man's clothes would transfer to mine. I cringed and looked forward, counting the black people who got on the bus (excluding the driver).

I'm surrounded
By old stories
With nowhere to hide 

I could show you these ugly things and ugly people. I could show you how to live like them. Then I could show you how to hate them. But I just want to forget about that, I just want to file it away never to be used again.

Wait, what kind of coke
are we talking about?

When I got to work I was easily 30 minutes earlier than my regular, but it couldn't be helped anymore than that realistically.

I don't feel anything in regards to myself right now. My knee is still bothering me, still not much below 90 degrees. I don't sleep well because of it, but I don't care much beyond getting a good night's rest right now. I don't want to have any sense of entitlement regarding any issue right now, and so far I don't really feel entitled to anything.

However, I do want a Coke.

And that bitchin' Camaro that I wish Jesus had.

2011年8月13日 "[U]nless I had to"

"We already know how you feel on the issue. And Marion told me that you absolutely don't want to teach English."

Me: "Uh okay, that's wrong, totally wrong. How the hell do you fuck up a detail like that, especially one that is written out?"
Her: "Don't talk to me like that."
Me: "Okay, how the hell does she fuck up a detail like that?"

The conversation went down hill from there, until we examined the actual email. Low and behold my own wording was on my side, as it should be, unless I'm some douche bag senator [link].

Before we look at what this bullshit is about, let me give you an opportunity to get the down-low. My aunt Marion emailed me about my career options in life and told me I should get my MA so that I can teach Japanese at a high-school.

Let's look at my reply:

I have no interest in teaching high-school Japanese whatsoever. History may-be an option, but not much else at a high-school level other than that interests me at present.

And

I would rather not go to Japan to teach English unless I had to[.]

Yes. I win this debate.

I don't even need to number the problems off, there are too many anyhow. The bottom line is that someone got the information not only mixed up, but fucked six-ways from Sunday in such a manner that EVEN I was confused and dumbfounded. This generally happens after people fist fuck details.

Let's shift gears, just like when a woman wants to have sex and the man just wants to explain how solar flares work and what it does to the earth's magnetic field.

As for how I feel on what I said in original reply, I don't want to feel like I'm being pushed into a boat I'd rather not be in, unlike Wainwright I don't have anything that ties me to Japan, not at least in the same fashion (he's in a committed - like an insane asylum - relationship). Yes I enjoy learning about Japan, language, literature, and culture. Moreover, I like applying what I learn, and even more than that I like discussing it. 

Yet like most things in life, I do not want to give myself a false sense of entitlement, i.e. "I worked hard for this so I deserve it." This is part of the reason I actually dislike fundamentalist Christians or zealots of any type.
"I'm a better Christian than you, so I'm going to Heaven."
Or
"Oh, I know I'm going to heaven, but I don't know about you..." 
To which I often think, I know my foot could go up your ass, but I don't know if I can get away with it.

As I experience more and more things in life, the only things I have learned is that: 

• Pain does not go away, even with the passing of time, but it becomes a little more tolerable. 
• I will die one day, and this is a result of being alive. 
• Living a healthy life-style is just another way to die slower than others. 
• Laugh at everything possible, because there is always someone somewhere finds that one thing funny.
• Things that are conditional are no more different than contracts between businesses, albeit a lot more complicated do to lack of details.
• Details, you better fucking have them when you're asked tough questions.
• Ignorant assholes like double-standards, and then they look down on you when try to explain the issue to them.*
• No one becomes an expert in their field without giving up something they can't get back.
• If you are not afraid or seriously concerned in issues where it is appropriate to be it is because you are either crazy, idiotic, ignorant, or worst of all, you have deceived yourself and/or your challenge.
• Fear and trust G-d: He knows where you live if you piss Him off.
• Love G-d, because it feels good when somebody loves you back and that's a fact.
• Completed trust towards another person is something that should never be broken, just like the completed trust between a man and a cannibal who is giving fellatio.

I think that about sums it up, and whatever isn't listed is no one fucking business.

I'm not really sure how to explain these things to people who have a sense of entitlement or living a life-style where everything is dictated by a magazine or by contemporary society. Hell, 80 years ago Hugo Boss was a supplier for Nazi uniforms. Today, it's totally okay to wear and use their products.

How does that make sense?

I can put my answer
in the form of a question.

Easy. It's just a type of contract, one between the company and people. They (the people) will overlook the history of the company as long as they get stylish products. 

Just like life you can't time the market. You can't time tomorrow. And if you can, you're doing it to manipulate people in ways that were never intended. The latter of these bothers me most, as it is the single most disgusting thing a person could do to homo-sapiens.

*For example, it's (usually) socially okay for a woman to break up with a man who has a small penis, but it's not okay for a man to break up with a woman who has small breasts?
What kind of shit is that? Thank G-d I don't own a big truck.

2011年6月7日 See-ya later

Wainwright and I left for the airport this morning around 5 am. The drive was pretty smooth, as was the way back towards work. It was strange to see him leave the USA, as neither of us know when he'll be back, if at all.

The surreal nature of travel these days is compounded by the fact that one could get on a plane and in less than 24 hours they could be in another part of the world. In said world there is a new or different culture and language, which may be significantly different than the traveler's own place of origin.

I couldn't help feeling a sense of fleeting loss. Even though he left, I did nothing but wonder about my own experiences with travel and the absence of celebration. I've always felt a journey and the method in which one conducts such journey is extremely important. These ideas came to me while I attempted for the 6th time this morning to get my Soul music CD to work in the car. The silk voice of Teddy Pendergrass and the open reflection on one's own pain made me realize that even the absence of celebration, or loss of such, if reflected upon it will accommodate an affirmation of the importance of such. In basic terms, if one things about loss and is moved, there is some sort of value, either good or bad. The ability to recognize loss in itself is a good thing. The contents of the loss on its own are open to debate.

A man, estranged from his wife and slowly distancing himself from his friends, wonders about what went wrong. With the exception of work, everything falls apart. He does not care, since he invests no time in anything that does not compliment or affirm his own work. To him, the work affirms his success. When he was finished and retired, he had great pride from his work experiences. Yet although he felt as if the work itself embodied himself: he never realized that the process only allowed for him to lose his identity. There was nothing spiritual or uplifting in this man, only the negation of himself and his own vanity. He never needed a name, and due to his pride in his work, his eyes told him that no one else needed one either.

2011年6月1日 Repugnant Thoughts Everyday (or when I feel like it)

Wainwright is moving out of the apartment shortly this week and most likely will be in Japan by next Wednesday. Things are stressful between both of us, as we both have our own shit to deal with, and due to such I have once again within the past few days neglected taking care of this blog, hence the title.

Ain't it fuckin' true?

On top of that there is a lingering craving for tacos, which is today's segue for repugnant commentary. Tacos, either hard-shell, or something like Taco Bell's double-decker (soft wrapped around a hard-shell) would be fucking great about now. And more importantly pink-tacos (defined). Pink-tacos are usually great in the morning, after work, or when people are generally stressed out and want to reduce general (or sexual) frustration from life. 

Respect the almighty pink-taco. 

Although, some of those kinds of tacos are purple or brown, the latter of which I have no idea why. Personally, I do not see a problem with the purple tacos, as my only concern is whether or not the meat will spoil in a dirty taco. For more information on pink-tacos in detail, and in terms of whether or not pink-taco's exist, just check out this white dude (NSFW).

This dude loves tacos.

The pink-taco, just like Repugnant Thoughts Everyday, tends to be one of those things that people might lean towards once in a while. It is entirely possible one could go their whole life without having a pink-taco, but surely someone at some point would at least like to try one, especially with some meat inside, like my own or the guy from the picture.

2011年5月17日

This morning I woke up at 4:55am to the alarm clock and stiffness on the living room couch. The previous night Wainwright and I passed out to Black Sun. Yes I was able to sleep soundly to a man aborting a woman's baby with a bayonet. I limped over to my room and exactly at 5:05am the neighbor's baby started crying. Now I would have slept well, if I was already asleep, but I was awake, so it's hard to get back to sleep.

When I woke up again it was 6:33 and the stiffness remained.
It lingered and caused me more problems throughout my day, chipping away my mobility. Now because the pain is un-ignorable, I am debating if I should flee to home where can I lie down in the burning company of suffering.

I've been checked in only 6 moves.
"I probably deserve this," I said to my coworker this morning. "Don't say that." She said to me. I smiled and mentioned how fun it is in actuality. My existence (with PVNS) affirms that suffering exists, and that affirmation also provides the negation for a capacity of focused love or consideration.

The worst part of all of this is that the more I try to verbalize depending on the audience, my train of thought is constantly derailed, with no survivors.

2011年5月16日 You thought your life was bad?

Through the wall: WAAAHHHHHH!!
Wainwright: What the fuck?!

Looking at the clock he realizes it is somewhere around 6am in the morning. His eyes haven't even opened up yet and like clockwork the sound of a baby head first in a blender once again wakes him up through the wall. Mind you this baby's room isn't even adjacent to his own!

Wainwright: Fuck this.
BOOM, BOOM, BOOM


He hammers the wall with the strength of Perkele (or Thor if you don't know Perkele). From what he said I was under the impression my .45 AUTO had some competition. I don't even think the Goatse Girl was pounded as hard as the wall.
Results have yet to come in. Pun intended. (Efukt NSFA= Not-Safe-For-Anything)

Neighbor chick: (Yelling through the wall) DON'T FUCKING BANG ON THE WALL, COME OVER AND FUCKING ASK ME (unintelligible)...

Wainwright: (under the breath) Fuck you bitch, if you didn't want kids close your fucking legs! (Under his breath continued) Why the fuck would I want to get up, put clothes on, and walk to your apartment at 6am to tell your fucking blended babies to shut the fuck up?!

My roommate is super pissed, on top of not hearing back from his probable/future employer, and we both know  that weight of silence from the prior is taking its toll. At this rate, I EXPECT him to walk over to the neighbor's at 5:30 and genuinely give that baby something to fucking scream about. If the kid was retarded, we could understand, but the kid ain't (from what I can see). I mean the poor fucker isn't eating his own shit or flinging it, although that would be fucking hilarious, for the first 10 minutes, and then it would probably start to smell....

This has all been happen since we've lived here, and thankfully I sleep soundly. I am well awake when the baby starts crying so for me it's nothing new. I almost laugh, because:

1. I am not a stupid fucker with children.
   
2. All my potential children get flushed down the toilet. If only I could hear them scream! A vortex of damning putrid waters!
   
3. At least it's on a regular (almost daily) basis
   
4. Free entertainment?

At least my humor remains.

Vulgarities

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