Jew Boo

I saw Fiddler on the Roof the other day with my family. And yes, there were Jews. So. Many. Jews.

There is a character in the play named Lazar Wolf. And with the fake peasant-Jew accent everybody uses, it sounds an awful lot like Laser Wolf, a character the writers should have considered. I believe that the addition of Laser Wolf -- an intelligent, powerful, and vindictive machine -- would make this musical more dynamic. Consider the facts.





Fact: A bunch of Russian Jews hiding a cybernetic wolf in their village, an outcast like them, is fucking heartwarming.

Fact: A mechanical wolf wearing a yarmulke is adorable. And a lucrative merchandising opportunity.

Fact: An old Jew assaulting Laser Wolf for drinking his kerosene is slapstick gold! Plus, it teaches children not to trust robots around fuel.




I look forward to meeting Laser Wolf. I know we'll become fast friends. But until that day, I will be very sad.

Bowels In Charge

I'm gonna be in St. Louis through Monday. I'm visiting my sensei, Larry. Smell ya later.

Take Your Kids?

Does your son like kangaroos? How does he feel about a kangaroo watching him sleep? ... Come on down to Raging Waves! Water slides!

I Have a Crippling Fear of Being Crippled

I’m 27, still a long ways away from triple bypasses and deathbed harmonica solos, but that doesn't mean I don't think about death. Life passes pretty quickly, and soon enough I'll be dead. No more me. Cause of death: torso failure. I wouldn't have it any other way. I mean, have you seen this shit? What a torso! My rib cage is HUGE! You think you can touch my heart? Fat chance! It’s gonna take more than a screwdriver driven deep into my thoracic cavity to damage that shit, buddy.





…I’m terribly sorry for the harsh language and bravado. I don’t know what happened. Perhaps we can discuss it over drinks in my hotel room. No, I won’t try anything. I promise. We’ll have a blast! We'll drink teeny bottles of gin and read our favorite Bible passages. Then you’ll pass out from the drugs I drugged you with.





I’ll cast off my fake beard and get down to business. What’s that? You don't like being propped up in a chair and having hot chili thrown at your chest? Too bad. People who are asleep don’t have opinions.





...I'm a weirdo.

Animated Perfection and Birdy Nam Nam

This is my favorite thing right now. Just watch...

BIRDY NAM NAM - THE PARACHUTE ENDING from Steve Scott on Vimeo.

For those with slower computers, here's the slightly less detailed youtube version...





My eyes just sent divorce papers to my brain.

I Love Sonic Youth, but I Hate Kim Gordon

Her voice sounds like a bear having an orgasm while taking a shit (it's possible).

To love a band, yet abhor an essential member of that band is frivolous, no? Kind of a waste of time thinking on it. Same goes for writing about it... I'm ashamed of myself.

Sonic Youth - Teenage Riot

Sonic Youth - "Sunday" - Starring Macaulay Culkin. Directed by Harmony Korine. Seriously.




Different topic... There's an artist that goes by the name of Skinner. His paintings are psychotic fever dreams of multi-colored monsters stabbing each other inside a prismatic chaos realm. I'm a fan.








Find more at his site, The Art of Skinner.

Celebrities About To Sneeze

Celebrity Allergy Archive
is a real blog and despite what you think, not useless at all.





Right, Curtis "Booger" Armstrong?

Hot Dog Day

Honor the fallen ones. Honor the cheese injected, chili covered, deep fried, bacon wrapped, mustard splattered, mayonnaise blurted, Casio keyboard activated, chandelier dangled, poison tipped, ketchup hemorrhaged, Fred savaged, dolphin nuzzled, toffee tested, balls deepened, Chinese checkered, half breaded, Tokyo drifted, bird nested, and laser guided hot dog brethren.





I'm talking about all the hot dogs you've ever eaten, lined up before you in anger and judgement. For their time has come. And your days are numbered.

Señor Lonely Pony

Last weekend was one of the loneliest weekends I’ve ever had. I’m fine now, but only after some serious effort to get back to the cheerful mental state I was in before (cough). Let me back up a little bit… I attended a wedding in Michigan. Alone.

Rule #1) Never attend an out of state wedding by yourself.

I leave Saturday morning on shitty footing. I get very little sleep and am awakened quite viciously by loud thumps. Apparently, they're renovating the roof on my apartment building. Awesome. If you haven’t woken up at 7:45am to biblical-scale hammering, you haven’t truly lived. I drink coffee and try to shit but can’t, what with the barrage of yelling and pounding. So, I hit the road all backed up. (How do Iraqis shit with the all the tension and violence going on? If I lived there, I’d have 53 pounds of feces stuck in my colon by now. Just saying.)

Rule #2) Never start a road trip while constipated.

Onward to Michigan, listening to Tom Waits along the way. Mr. Waits doesn't help. Check into the hotel, situated within a commercial complex, complete with a Buffalo Wild Wings, a Starbucks, and an Outback Steakhouse. The complex is strategically placed in the middle of nowhere. Loneliness is a foregone conclusion.

Get dressed. Go to the ceremony. Make awkward chit-chat with the just married. Don't talk to anybody else. Eat a sandwich. Go back to the hotel. Watch “The Invasion”. Try to take a nap. Fail. Go to the reception.

At the reception is when the alienation digs its claws into me. I don’t speak to anyone, nor am I spoken to for most of the night. I’ve been around people all day, interacting with none of them. I try to converse with the bride and groom, but they are very busy with wedding crap. Add music and kids running around, and I’m completely disoriented and uneasy. I end up watching hockey at the bar.

Side note: The people who got married read this blog. Or at least one of them does. So I must make it clear that they hold absolutely no responsibility for my despair. It was a set of circumstances that sucked a mean dog dick. Not your fault. I love you guys.

That being said, attending their wedding was one of the worst decisions I’ve made recently. Weddings are stressful, phony, and crush the spirit of love that brought the couple together in the first place. Weddings are not enjoyable for the people getting married, being paraded around like livestock for all to behold, and they're not particularly enjoyable for the people attending the wedding either. What brainless monster created this bullshit?!

Rule#3) Marriage fine. Wedding bad.

I get back to the hotel, exhausted from the whole day. A baby repeatedly screams in the hallway at a measured rhythm. I get out of bed and go to the grocery store to buy some candy. A guy wearing an Insane Clown Posse shirt is smoking out front. Inside, half a dozen pregnant women dwell. Everyone is unhappy. I buy gummy raspberries and get the fuck out of there.

Back at the hotel, I eat my stupid candy and watch “Harold & Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay”. It’s not funny when you’re all alone, and possibly not funny at all. An Indian couple argues in the hallway. I fall asleep at around 1:30am.

Wake up at 10am. Hit the road at noon. Blinding sunlight and traffic. Get home at 4. Flick the light switch, but no lights turn on. No power. Dudes tearing up the roof on Saturday must’ve blown a fuse and never replaced it. I have to throw away most of the food in my fridge. I call my landlord, who is sympathetic and agrees to reimburse me for the spoiled food. This is the first conversation I’ve had all day, and it’s a short, businesslike one. I watch TV for a few hours and go to bed. Weekend over.

Being brutally bored and having no one to talk to is one of the worst feelings possible. Last weekend, I felt like I was 15 again.

Future Fustigation

For some reason, I know that I must prepare for something horrible. I don't know what or where, but it's coming, no doubt about it. Ever get the sense that it's a short time before something goes terribly wrong? I got that shit right now.