You Were Like Crack, Randy

Psst... You need some Randy Rock, yo? Easy, buddy. I'm completely human. Check my throat. No cyborg parts there, right? It's cool, man. But not really. You didn't check my chest, did you? It's all machines, man. I'M A FUCKING CYBORG!!! RANDY ROCK!!!

Take Your Goiter To Work Day

Got a few things to ramble about this evening/morn...

Haven't had internet for a few days, hence the lack of postage. I was at my folk's house in the burbs, where I average 14 hours of sleep a night and pound my drum set like it owes me money. I cherish these two things. I take 3-4 days every month to visit my family, the executive producers of Team Kid Douche. It helps hone my brain bone, and keeps me grounded.

Although I always seem to come up with Carl Winslow scenarios when I visit. I don't think this is a coincidence.


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The craigslist missed connections are getting pretty weak these days. No intrigue, no stories, just pathetic crap like, "Hey, I saw you walking your dog and you said hi to me as you picked up poop in a Best Buy bag. Drinks? :P"

How come there aren't any homeless gentleman getting miss connected? They're out in the streets all day, talking to females. No connections? Really? That's sad.



W4M- To Rowboat Leroy from Spare Some Change, Sexy? - 26 - (outside 7 eleven)
"You were blinking your left eye rapidly and coughing into a bouquet of flowers you stole from the cemetery. Your right eye was bloodshot and transfixing. You told me that you'd humped somebody in Texas that looked like me, but it was a long time ago. I was flattered.

Then you tried to sell me a rolling suitcase. I said OK only because I was smitten and wanted to hear you talk some more. You unzipped the suitcase, revealing a staggering amount of pee bottles, but I didn't care. You were ashamed and ran away.

I like you, Rowboat. Come back! I hope you see this ad when you use the computer at the library tomorrow, while not so discreetly rubbing your pants.
Ciao!"

Sadder Day

Today, I was visited by an old acquaintance of mine who I hadn't seen in a while. I call him Depression Toad.


Up until a few weeks ago, I hadn't felt his presence in months. I had problems, sure, but nothing that couldn't be defeated with Internet porn, taking a walk while listening to music, reading magazines while drinking coffee, or thinking about Ol' Dirty Bastard.



Then, my Zayde passed away. My enthusiasm for life, this blog, getting a job, and personal relationships greatly waned. I don't know if it was seeing my Bubbie in tears or lack of sleep coupled with the stress that week, but my general attitude changed. I was on a pretty good roll for a few months there, even after some invasive procedures into my stomach and teeth. But those three days in Toronto killed it.

When I got back, I decided that I needed new furniture, and spent too much time on craigslist procuring new items. I made new business cards. I got weirder with this blog. I did everything but sit down and talk about my shit to someone who cares enough about me to listen without passing judgment.

I realize now that I was just trying to keep myself busy, because I already knew that I had lost a step, and wanted desperately to keep rolling on as if nothing had changed. This faulty behavioral path backfired, obviously.

And today was a wakeup call. I got up after 11 hours of sleep, drank some coffee, felt horrible, took a nap, woke up, felt like compressed gray gloom, got invited out to a bar by a friend, declined, felt guilty, ate some food, and here we are.

The good thing is that I realize what I must do to pull out of this tailspin, and I will. But today reminded me of bleak Chicago winters, especially last winter, when everybody feels the way I did today; alone, tired, irritable, not wanting to go out, and having to psyche yourself up to get up and go to the bathroom or make something to eat.

I truly fear those winter days, because I need a little help from somebody who cares during those times. But it's hard to get together, as people are reticent to do anything outside their comfortably heated apartments, and they probably feel like shit as well. I'm not good on the phone, so I need to meet up with someone in person. But it takes a reason or a gimmick to get someone to come out of the house when it's 14 degrees outside and the sun was last seen with its father, Gilberto Hernandez, last November (missing children jokes are hilarious, right?). God, Jesus, Allah, and Buddha, I hate the fucking winter!

But maybe that's what this blog is for, on certain occasions. Letting off some steam so my pipes don't burst. Shifting the burden of sadness from me onto you. I hope my wretched rant wasn't too much, and if you've gotten this far, thanks for reading. I feel better already.

What do you say, Depression Toad?

Awkward Craigslist Phone Conversation

I just renewed my lease for another year, so I'll be staying in my Ukrainian Village apartment for awhile. That's alright, though, because I'm pretty happy here. I live by myself, it's a bargain for the location, and the neighborhood is quiet and crime-free. It was a no-brainer, really.

But ever since I signed a new lease, I've been looking around my place, figuring I should fix 'er up and get some new furniture. If I'm staying here for another year, I gots to be stylin' and comfortable. So, where does an unemployed padlock enthusiast go to get new crap? Craigslist, ya cunt!

I've been stalking and lurking my way around craigslist for a couch, end tables, a bookcase, and storage trunks. It's all very tedious and boring and a shit ton of people don't know how to spell. Half of the photos accompanying the item descriptions are blurrier than bigfoot photos, and I actually sent an e-mail to one of these people asking how much they wanted for their sasquatch. I got no reply.


(via Lileah West)


I know when I'm dealing with a person who has their shit together, and so far, I've purchased an end table, a couch, and a storage cabinet all for $220. On the other hand, there are formidable idiots that have somehow escaped death all these years, and they're on craigslist in massive numbers.

I had a conversation with one of these people on the phone today . Here's how it went:
(not the real guy's photo, doi)