Juggalo furries..

Yep… I knew these people had to be out there somewhere…

 

Computers are hard…

I’ve got a shit ton of wordpress accounts right now… I’ve got three for work and this one. My computer can’t keep all the passwords straight, and I’m certainly not going to be able to do it. Computers are hard. It’s especially hard because I don’t want there to be any way to track my work-related wordpress blogs back to to this one (for obvious reasons).

Anyway, I miss you all. I was looking for the cakefarts post, so I went through all the old posts to find it. The problem is, it was never a post. But in the process, I read a year and a half of posts. My sailboat, hunting, positive pregnancy test, Derek, poetry, metal, falling through ceilings – it made me tear up a bit. It’s been a formative 19 months of Hardlessons. It’s the journey, not the destination.

So, in tribute to Hardlessons… cakefarts.

Let’s get this done.

I’m on a mission from Allah

Dudes,

I was lost. Drugged up (two Advil). Drunk (three $10 beers). I had a vision. Suddenly there was a white light. I couldn’t feel my arms. My legs wouldn’t stand.  My balls hurt like Derek’s after a night with Lauren.

I couldn’t see anything but a white, piercing light. I heard a voice. It said, “get off the hotel lawn.” Then I heard another voice. It said, “get the band back together.”

I was confused.

I screamed into the darkness, “What band?”

The voice replied, “Drunk Derek and the Big Titty Car Wash.”

Then there was silence.

Then the voice said, “I said, Drunk Derek and the Big Titty Car Wash. Are you Retarded? Do you want my son Timothy to come down there and show you how to make a band?”

I screamed into the night, “we broke up. It wasn’t right. We wanted to see other people. We needed to grow on our own.”

The voice said, “get the band back together, and save the world.”

I said, “I don’t think Derek will agree to it. He’s had sex now. He has no reason for singing about sperm or oranges.”

Then I felt a heal of a mighty boot on my balls. I winced in pain.

There was a whisper in my ear, “get the band back together.”

It was sexy. My nipples were hard.

I must have passed out after that. I woke up later on the floor of some Russian guy’s bathroom, but I’m pretty sure it was unrelated.

Long story short, god told me to get the band back together. There’s some orphanage that needs saving… bla bla bla bla…

Food for thought.

They have the internets…

I know I already posted some of these on my FB, but I thought I’d also try out a post here. I’m going to get a blog just for Doha together soon, but for now…

The views are what I can see from the 24th floor balcony of  my “temporary” housing arrangement. I don’t know how “temporary” it is, but someone told me today not to hold my breath for my villa. I think I can make do with this.

The keyboard is of my new MacBook. Note the tiny shift and return keys. It’s a bit hard to get used to.

I’ll post more later. I should try and get to sleep. It’s nearly 1 a.m. here.

A force for good…

I’d hate to say that we’re contributing to the the human race, but the stats from the litany of our posts do not lie.

Top Posts

Ball Fun! 3,161 views

Fail 2,096 views

Enough of the horse dicks (or cocks) and back to screwing around 994 views

The number of people who looked at the “Arabian goggles” post is nearly equal to the population of the town I grew up in. Slap that shaved piece of smelly flesh over your eyes and look at the world…. We will make a difference. I’m going to live forever…..

His mother must have been Asian.

I don’t know what this is. See what happens when I only have to work eight hours a day. I have visions of a Jack Rabbit father taking his inter-species, inter-racial child on a canabalistsic hunting trip. Idle hands my friends….

It’s not that crazy. I’m sure there’s Japanese porn of chicks banging rabbits. There has to be. Maybe this is just a vision of one of those rabbits trying to be a good dad to his half-white, half-human, bastard son of an Asian porn star by taking him to murder and eat his native ancestors. It’s got to be a metaphor for something.

MFA in Photography, here I come.

If nothing else it would make a great NRA poster.

Et tu, Rabbit?

Yes… Rabbits are assholes. Sweet Jesus, we hiked all over the desert to get one fucking rabbit, and it tasted that much better because of it. Well, honestly, it would have tasted just as good if we would have shot it on the first day out, but that’s splitting hares… get it…. hares… and we split it…. with guns.

The reason why I’m  so glad we got one isn’t out of sportmanship. It’s out of vengeance. I never told any of you this, but the last time we were out hunting rabbits… they… well.. they raped me. The rabbits had their way with my perfect starfruit. I can still smell the stink of their cigarettes mixed with the acrid odor of their cheep cologne. The fluffy one was the worst. Again and again – he just couldn’t get enough. After they were finally done, when they started to leave, I gathered myself enough to throw a empty wine glass at them, but it exploded harmlessly against the door jam. It missed the fluffy one by mere inches, but he didn’t even flinch. He just lit a cigarette, turned and gave me a look that said, “bitch, you best calm down before I get my rape on again.” Then he left and they all hopped away, stopping occasionally to let butterflies land on their noses or to nibble bits of clover.

For me this isn’t hunting, it’s fucking revenge.

My pretty, pretty pinhead.

As an assignenment for one of the classes I’m in, we had to create an avitar in Second Life. I was a little scared at first because of past experiences with MUSHes and MUDs. Of course, that was before I created him/her. S/he is so beautiful. It is a perfect representation of me in the virtual world. No description on a MUSH could come close.

Probably about 4 feet of hot!

I knew that when I was able to slope the forhead and drop the chin, my avitar was as good as done.

So perfect.

It’s that sly, come hither stare….

This is a shot of him/her pretending s/he not being watched.

His/her name is Lowercase Jigsaw. I think we should get an entire pinhead army together in second life. If I have to doodle around in there for a class, we might as well make it fun. We could get a pinhead army and a prirate ship… it would be awesome. I wasn’t lucky enough to be a pinhead pirate in my first life, let’s make it happen in my second.

Hardlesson… again and again…

So I seem to keep attempting to learn this hard lesson over and over again. I do not know where to draw lines. I’ve finally figured out why. It’s usually due to one or more of the following: a) I’m drunk, b) I want people to like me, c) I think cynical tongue-in-cheek commentary is always appropriate. What I fail to realize is a) I’m drunk, b) most people don’t give a fuck, c) my tongue-in-cheek commentary is often not funny. It’s like I’m constantly relearning that throwing bricks at the girl you like is not going to get you a girlfriend.

Here is the most recent hard lesson… I used to write for a blog that was related to my profession. Technically I’m still one of their writers, but I haven’t posted for a couple months. In one of the last posts I made I mentioned that another campus within the same institution has far more personnel and they deal with the same amount of students. I did it in what I thought was a sort of sarcastic way calling our campus the forgotten “stepchild”. When I wrote that a couple of months ago, no one cared. I didn’t even think anyone was reading the blog. Well in the months since, the institution I work for as a whole has hit a rough patch financially. The campus that I indicated was living high on the hog was none too pleased that I had painted them in such a manner (on account of I pointed out that they have 13 professionals serving the same number of students my campus serves with 2). Long story short, it all got back to me via my boss. Long story shorter, I’m also trying to apply for a better job within the same institution and I probably just shot myself in the foot and dick.

Luckily, I’m still able to edit all my old posts and I took out the nasty bits. Still, I think the damage has been done. Notice I’m not providing any links… the last thing I need is for someone to be able to trackback me to this festering pile of donkey dicks. Anonymity has its perks.

So here’s a list of things that I thought were funny that probably hurt my professional self. Let’s consider this the list of hardlessons that I still haven’t learned:

1) Flooding the locker room and trying to “surf” on the kickboards after swim practice in 1992 = apparently not a good idea.

2) Asking a girl who just wrecked her car if she wanted a picture with it when I was a newspaper reporter in 1995 = not appropriate.

3) Rollerskating through the UW library in short shorts when I worked there in 1996 = apparently not funny.

4) Leaving my boss a pile of pictures of me in a speedo, posing on his desk, on my last day at work in 1998 = apparently disgusting and taken completely out of context.

5) Telling my class, on September 12, 2001, that what has happened has nothing to do with what they’re supposed to be doing, so “lets get to work on the next assignment.” = apparently short-sighted.

6) Writing a drunken manifesto calling out bullshit in conceptual art and submitting it as my artist’s statement for my thesis show in 2004 = apparently not appreciated by out-of-area member of thesis committee (it also wasn’t very good).

7) Assembling super-awesome drunken sculpture/installation of frame scraps in graduate art studio while helping a friend build frames for his graduate show in 2006 = apparently a fire hazard and not cool.

Encouraging said friend while he nailed an upside-down cross to the door of a douche bag’s studio on the same night = apparently insensitive to the douche bag’s religious beliefs and totally out of line. (“what if his parents found out”).

9) Attempting to nail a jabba-the-hutish thing’s studio door shut with an air nailer on the same night = apparently dangerous and threatening. I  also was accused of stealing a picture which showed the studio occupant in the bathtub. I didn’t take the photo and I have serious doubts if such a picture even exists. I have a hard time believing  she can fit into a bathtub.

Now this whole thing with the blog…. I can’t decide if I’m stupid or if everyone else just doesn’t have a fucking sense of humor.

I don’t even know anymore….

Compare and contrast.

Go… compare this:

with this:

They’re both from the same week. Why is this race even close?