Well, Fuck.

I've never figured out why a suburban motherfucker needs one of these.

So, Bad News around the house today.Here's the story:

This morning as I'm making Tiny some grits with cheese I spill some cheese on the floor. So, I go to the door to call the dog in from his morning pee to eat the cheese. I call the dog, I hear his collar jingling and I focus on the sound and see that he is going to come across the road. l also hear the rev of an engine and then it happens. Just as I'd seen it thousands of times, the dog runs across the road. I have enough time to see the dog breach the bushes encroaching upon the road, look at the oncoming, speeding, non-braking, non-stopping SUV, and then the thump. It sounded like you took a slab of brisket and wailed on the fender of a car, except more brutal.

Then the dog is yelping, yelping, yelping. He spins in the road and I see his limbs flailing, I swear I can see the terror in his eyes. I think, "Holy Fuck, now I have to go out there and bash his head in with a rock because he is totally fucked." Then I go get my phone to call Felicia's Uncle to ask him if he can come shoot Rommel so I can go bury him somewhere. As I'm dialing I go to check that the dog is still in the road and I don't have to run him down. To my surprise, he's up and running, and not gimpy either. Maybe it's the adrenaline but he comes up the steps, under the crib, and he (naturally) has an insane look in his eyes.

I decide that I can't have him puking up blood in front of the children and all over our stuff so I get him and take him downstairs to the garage. I check him out: no bloody spittle, no compound fractures, no overtly recognizable broken bones. In short, he's not only lucky to be alive but he's on the lower end of horribly injured due to a hit and run.

We don't have money to take him to a vet to X-Ray him and tell us that his ribs are broken and that he needs rest to recoup or else he is just going to die. So, fuck it. He's at home. He looks like you would imagine a dog who survives an impact with a two-ton, speeding, lump of metal. Hell, he looks good. I figure that if he lasts until morning, he'll make it.

In closing, if you own an SUV, you not only are killing the environment, pouring money into the coffers of governments whose citizens are willing recruits for Jihad, you also have a hand in the suffering of a small Pembroke Corgi in Alaska.

Feliz Cumpleanos

My wife turns 27 today. As we all know 27 is almost 30, which is almost dead, because if you haven't made whatever "it" is by 30, then you never will.

Seriously though, Felicia is pretty great and I would advise everyone to go out and get one.

You Know What Would Be Fun?

If this guy is the messiah then get my fucking pitchfork ready.

So last night Felicia and I are watching cable over at the inlaws house after her birthday dinner. We don't get cable so when we spend the weekend over there we typically indulge in copious amounts of wine and television. It's fun because the few hours we end up watching are more than enough to satisfy our viewing needs and a little crazy to think that TV is this huge media outlet for millions of Americans and it's easy to see how one could form some of the most backwards ass, retarded, asshole opinions if those opinions were provided by TV programming.

Wait, where was I going? Oh yeah, Felicia turns on this show about some crazy ass cult in New Mexico or some shit that has the asshole pictured above proclaiming he is God incarnate and how the world will end on 31 October 2007. What a fucking douche. Anyway, the show was good, mostly because of the guy who interviewed these crazy motherfuckers. He would ask these pointed logical questions that poked holes in this absurd prophecy and then caught the "messiah's" and his followers' answers on tape. It was priceless to see this fucking loser bumble fuck around with answers about the coming apocalypse. I couldn't figure out if the show was supposed to be a documentary or some kind of farce because it was so fucking funny/scary to watch these people.

Anyway, the most striking thing about this were the looks in these people's eyes when they talked about/looked at their god. Specifically, the women had these looks of ecstatic and fervent belief when they looked at this turd. I mean, come on, if that fucking hick of a whitebread motherfucker was truly divine, don't you think he could, I don't know, maybe miracle up some better digs than trailers in the middle of the desert Southwest? I'm pretty sure St. John didn't describe any fucking wheeled rectangular metal boxes when he penned that ludicrous shit about heaven. In fact, I seem to remember something about streets paved with gold and milk and honey or some shit. Fuck it, go read the crazy shit for yourself.

The point is that these fucking people are so mind fucked that even while this guy fucked their wives (because God told him to) and naked cuddled with their adolescent daughters (because the children wanted to) nobody did shit. Crazier than a motherfucker. I mean I just don't know how these people live with the cognitive dissonance that behaviors such as the ones stated above must create in their minds. Seriously, didn't anyone think to test this guy? Didn't anyone think, "If he's so fucking holy then I can crack his skull open with this shovel and he won't be fazed, right?" I mean, come on, even Jesus is reported to have done some crazy ass showboating for the masses. Water into wine? Fuck it, let's keep the party going. Hell, he even made a point to come back and prove to Thomas that he had, in fact, been killed and resurrected by making the doubter finger his gash. Heh.

In any case, children, the message today is that you should always think critically, avoid the confirmation bias, and watch out for the fundamental attribution error. Thus endeth the lesson, go in peace, bitches.

Nothing, Really

So, I don't really have anything. I mean, I do, but it's nothing so extraordinarily shitty that the entire fucking internets need to know. I think I'll just tick off some random shit and see where it takes me.

I'm kind of bummed about John Edwards. I like the guy, he's human, he fucked up, but if he had only done cocaine and skipped out of Air National Guard duty instead of fucking some woman who wasn't his wife, he'd be pres-o-dent. I don't know, I'm totally pissed about the stupidly dual nature of the American public who simultaneously hold mutually exclusive worldviews but can't be bothered to see any shade of gray on other issues. (I'm looking at you, the American response to recent Russian incursions into a sovereign nation and the country's view on the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan juxtaposed with, let's say, Gay Rights, abortion, the environment, health-care, etc.).

Something else I saw today but can't be bothered to link: The USA Today reports that Americans are totally stupid when it comes to anything. Some shit about how vast swathes of America have opinions of things about which they know nothing. Wow, stop the fucking presses. See the above paragraph.

You know, I don't like a lot of people.

It was my 27th birthday recently. I had the refreshing thought that, "Hey, even if I die at 55 I still have an amount of time left to live that is comparable to that which I have already experienced." It made me feel good because I've lived 27 years and can't begin to remember all the shit that's happened, so some of it must have been good, hell, even ecstatic, right? I must confess that I do feel old, though. I mean, goddamn, if this were the Paleolithic I'd either be dead already or only have maybe 10 good years left.

Felicia and I are moving to Anchorage by the end of the month. I am excited to live in a metropolitan area where I can get shit at any hour. I hate the suburbian/rural America. What a fucking dump.

God-Fucking-Dammit

Everything that I know about raising children, I learned from this man.

I saw the news, like many of you, today and I am truly saddened. Goddammit, the man was supposed to recover and keep making me laugh. I can't say any more to add to him. I think he said it best, "I'll kick a kid ass."

Yeah, Yeah

My life isn't solely existential crises and binge drinking. Sometimes, I make cobbler.

So, yeah, I've been a little more than fucked up lately. What of it? It's a very fucked up and hazy line I stumble along: mindfulness interspersed with wanton alcohol abuse, rage sitting side by side with bliss, and rampant misanthropy coupled with an unending hope for the future of humanity. What can I say? The world is a very fucked up place and while I am not an original person at least I am complicated.

There's a lot of shit on the docket so be prepared. First things first, I suppose.

Today I was at the post office with both children in tow. I'm holding Tiny and Bug has decided to fuck up his shoes so that he has to walk at half the speed he usually does. So I get inside and stoop down and begin to fix Bug's shoes with my free hand. A lady comes over to where I am, bends forward at the waist and asks in a tone reserved solely for the cognitively impaired, "Do you need some help? It looks like you have your hands full."

I think, "What the goddamn holy fuck?" But I manage to say, "No I've got it. Thanks."

Not only is it enraging to be condescended to by some random lady who is giving off the air that just because I am a man, by myself, with two children who is doing the same shit you see women doing all the time, it's baffling that she thinks she can help. What the fuck is this random stranger thinking she is going to do for me? Hold my infant? Velcro my pre-schooler's shoes? Go check my goddamn mail for me? Go pick up my fucking groceries while I am swamped at the post office?

Asshole.

Also, Felicia and I qualify for WIC, so today I go to pick up the checks for all our sweet government provided cereal, milk, and cheese. I have to sign some forms that say if I get WIC checks from any other office I am a fraud and will be prosecuted. The lady at the counter says that I have to sign three forms. It turned out that I had to sign four forms and so the lady says to me, "Oh, you poor man."

Yeah, pity me because I'm not only poor, I'm male. Hey, you know what would make me feel better? Suck my dick behind the Child Care Assistance/ WIC office, bitch.

You know the worst part is it's okay to say/do these insanely offensive things to men with children but if I were to ask some woman with four kids if she needed some help shopping at the fucking Wal-Mart I'd be, at worst, pepper sprayed, or at best, looked at like I had a goddamn dick growing out of my forehead.

Fuck all that noise. The cobbler I made was fucking delicious, and Kraft now has a Mac-n-Cheese that is 50% whole grains so there is like five times the amount of dietary fiber of regular Mac, which is good if you have kids and worry about trivial shit like, you know, their digestive and nutritional health.

Hey, Gavin at the Matanuska River, getting ready to chuck some rocks into the water. Whoo!

Shut Up!

All of you, seriously, shut the fuck up. None of this matters, you are unimportant. The world keeps spinning.

Life as we know it is pointless.

Even-keeled, Hopefully

Yeah, I felt a little like this guy.

You know that scene where HAL 9000 is talking to Dave and pleading with him not to undo his higher logic, or whatever, circuits and Dave is doing it anyway, and HAL just degenerates into this kind of simpering sideshow who is a shadow of his former self? That's what the fuck I am talking about.

Yesterday was not good. Let me set up some back story for you all. I have to take a pill because I no longer have a thyroid gland. This is usually no big deal unless I forget to take it for an extended period of time, or the dosage of the pill is a little off, in which case I kind of turn into this crazy hormone deprived freak. Deprivation of said pill usually manifests itself as lethargy/apathy. The fuck-side of that is after admitting the proper dose (this is for myself personally, I don't claim to be a physician) the lethargy/apathy gives way to suicidal ideation/rage, quickly followed by a return to normal emotional states. Usually, I'm back semi-on-top-of-things within a few days. Now let's talk bout what I'm talkin' bout.

This past weekend we went to Fairbanks and I forgot to take my pill for 4 or so days. So I crashed. Then on Tuesday of this week, I realized I hadn't taken it for a while so I started to. The first day, I was all lethargy, the second lethargy/apathy, the third day was the worst.

I called Felicia on Thursday because I was at the end of my rope. The kids were pissing me off, I was too violent, I felt my methods were becoming "unsound". I had told Gavin at the store earlier that (because I felt like blowing my head off) this is "why we don't keep guns around the house." In short it was fucking scary, not only to the kids, but to me. I really thought that this was it, I was losing it (whatever "it" might be), and that the uncontrollable swings from rage to despair would finally get the best of me. It was like being pushed over the edge of a cliff with an infinite drop, barely able to cling on, and only doing so because the alternative was the event horizon and I could just sense that whatever was in there was much worse than anything that I had already experienced.

I'll let you in on a little secret: Friday afternoon is the best day to go to the store. All the hot bitches are out. Word.

Siiiigggghhhh

Now, imagine Ol' Saint Nick here, but nude, gesticulating wildly, and half-yelling, "Watch out, the Federalies are everywhere." That's what I walked into in the gym locker room tonight. No shit. Don't move to Alaska, these motherfuckers are everywhere up here.

Also, Sex and the City is a terrible, terrible show. I hate it.

P.S. I am bored. Bored. Like Chino Moreno screaming inside my skull. This is why I drink.

Suck On This!

This is what happens, Larry, when you fuck the people of the State of Alaska in the ass!

So, yeah, you've probably seen this already but it bears repeating. Go read the link, it's pretty sweet. You know, I'm really not one of those people who think that politicians are all corrupt and government is the problem but I have to smile when I see some asshole like Sen. Stevens getting indicted. My main beef with him is how much of an asshole he is. He's your typical Republican panderer who blames Washington and the Democrats and "big government" for all the ills in the country while in the meantime earmarks the shit out of bills to benefit his state and funnels millions of dollars to Alaska via the same government he claims is the problem. It's hypocrisy at it's best, especially the way he denies any wrong-doing and even brags about "stuffing bills like a turkey." What a dick.

I could go on about this but I don't want to. Instead I'll leave you to find out some more shit about our Senator and how he is totally going to get fucked. The Anchorage Daily News is a good place to start.

Oh yeah, the semester is over so I am completely un-engaged for the next three weeks.

The THEODORE

So, I can't get the goddamn thing to make this caption above the picture. I want to say that this picture should be put up on lolcats or some shit. But this cat is pretty funny looking right? Right?



Yo, check it. I made some bread. 4 loaves of it. I also made some dope ass casserole with some bear meat and a goddamn pie with apples and raspberries that I froze last year. I totally fucking rock balls.

We went to Fairbanks this past weekend. It sucked. I drove a long fucking way to hang around at a museum that had a mammoth skull and then hang out at a park.

Okay, I got bored. I think I might repost this shit. But right now I am too drunk to give a shit.

Woo!

New Funny Shit

So, I am bored and should be doing homework for my ridiculously stupid English class. A little side note here, never, ever, ever take a technical writing course, you will want to stick an ice pick into your brain it is so fuckingly, stupidly subjective and worthless. Instead of doing that shit I decided to update my links and add two sites that I have been seriously enjoying lately and feel greedy keeping them to myself. The sites are:

Pictures for Sad Children

&

Toothpaste for Dinner

Both of these sites rule. It helps if you read Pictures from the beginning but Toothpaste is good anywhere. Many people, no doubt, already visit these sites but I like to draw attention to these two because I consistently laugh and agree with what the comic's author has to say.

Fuck this. I'm going to watch the ducks outside in the stream and write haikus or some other self-indulgent bullshit. Later.

Around Campus

Here are a few pictures from a place I like to hang out on campus. It's usually empty, except for hot-assed coeds and the occasional dip-shit who is walking through talking about how he has "friends" all over the country because the fat motherfucker is in some stupid frat, nice job fat-ass, good luck with the heart disease. All rancor aside, this place is pretty neat and I like to come sit and fuck around here when I could be studying. It makes me think that I am in some sci-fi book and I live in some sort of giant arkship that is adrift among the stars and I am one of the last human inhabitants, which is just fine with me, or that I live on some personal hollowed out asteroid because I am mega rich and I can afford to be a space recluse.



Like I said, it's pretty bad-ass with the stream and the greenery, it is a good place to sit and reflect, or as Felicia says I do, sit and silently judge everyone and everything. Seriously, does that sound like me?

Speaking of campus shit, I am taking a communications class this semester. Booooorrrrriiiinnnngggg. It is really infuriating because it just reinforces people's stereotypes, i.e. Men are the strong, silent type, or when communicating they only want to "fix" women's problems and women talk just to connect and just want someone to listen to them. Can we please just throw some fucking dirt on this shit already? I am so fucking infinitely bored with this shit. Why don't I just get a fucking shirt that says: "Hi, I'm male, ruled by my penis, and therefore incapable of being a human being. Please don't expect anything other than this from me because it would be a crime if, as a society, we could grow a little bit. Now, show me them titties!"

Happy Fourth!

Celebrating Independence in the true spirit of the Founding Fathers: getting wrecked, eating barbecue, and playing badminton.

Pre-game cocktails. This recipe is pomegranate vodka, pomegranate mixer, and orange liqueur. It comes off as a little too pomegranate-y, so I need to play with the mix a little. I am thinking regular vodka would take the fruity edge off.

Here is Kiernan with an ear of corn. He is pretty stoked.

Here is a picture of Gavin. He was hanging out with the chef for the barbecue, picking up some tips on how to cook ribeye steaks. Mmmm, steak.

Who says I'm not a patriot? Why look at this motherfucking Old Glory shortcake I made. I should be the next president I'm so goddamn 'merican.

Unfortunately I have no pictures from the badminton showdown between Felicia and myself because no one took any of us out there. It was fucking brutal. It was best two out of three, to 21, after several drinks, mandatory drink guzzling breaks at the halfway mark, between what turns out to be two super-competitive people. Brutal. I ended up winning but it went pretty much down to the wire. I have a feeling that this has more to do with my higher BMI being able to process and store more alcohol than Felicia. Whatever, another notch in the W column, fuck it.

I would say something else here about patriotism, civic responsibility, how this country is great, and how being American is goddamn near orgasmic compared to being say, Zimbabwean, but I won't. I'm not going to bore you motherfuckers with all that shit because a: if you took the time to read it and didn't quit after the first sentence then you probably already agree with what I have to say and b: surprisingly I'm not THAT full of myself. I mean hey, we all know America is fucked up and inequitable and people are rendered into pulp everyday by the American Dream and no one even gives a fuck. In spite of all that depressing shit mentioned in the last sentence we don't go ape shit and kill each other en masse because we are Americans and goddammit, we have governmental choices and elections and all that other shit that a bunch of fucked up, pissed off, aristocratic, white guys dreamed up and implemented a long time ago.

Wait, it seems I am that full of myself.

Where I Stay: Summer

Our home.

This is my favorite.

So, while the winters here totally suck the summers also suck, but in a different way. Having 18+ hours of daylight doesn't really lend itself to sleeping as much per night as I need to, and I am a HUGE dick when I don't get enough sleep. I really can't go to sleep when it's light out, unless it is in the middle of the day and I am taking a quick nap, and so I just get mean.

Fuck this.

I am not Important

Not in the least. I have been kind of pissed slash depressed slash suicidal, lately. Some of that comes from thinking I am insignificant contrasted with all the other motherfuckers you see on the internets who think that they are not. In fact, they think that without them, the world would crumple up into a singularity of suck and that they are the gatekeepers of all that is right and good. I think that, historically, these people would have been the first to sign up for Crusades, or jihad, or what-have-you.

Also, pomegranate vodka on ice is like childhood candy, liquefied and made into booze. No wonder people drink this stuff first thing in the morning.

Father's Day

This was not taken on Father's Day, but it still shows off my long-ass hair.

This was also not taken on Father's Day, but it shows that I love my kids.

Okay, I have to be truthful, kids are hell. If you like huge amounts of stress over long periods of time with little foreseeable reward, then have kids. They push every goddamn boundary and limit you can imagine. The benefit of this is that your genetic material gets passed along and propagated, so I guess it all equals out in the end.

Goddamn kids.

Ass Valedictorian

Not the help I was looking for.

Just a few things here:

1) When I'm in the Wal-Mart pharmacy line, it's not a fucking place of worship. Therefore, I should not have motherfuckers come up to the front of the line and ask all the patrons, all of whom have been waiting a long time to get the medicine they need to live, if they believe in the healing power of prayer. Newsflash fuckhead, if I believed in that shit, you'd see me in church on Sunday, not waiting in a fucking line in Wal-Mart. God is constantly fucking with me via assholes as described above.

2) When you describe your spouse, I don't think the first adjective that comes to mind should be "Godly". This should be self-explanatory.

3) Bourbon is my favorite drink. Sure, I like beer, wine, gin, just about anything, but I have a deep, up-welling, long-term love of bourbon. I don't know if this is historically accurate, but I remember reading something that said one of the founding fathers (Jefferson, maybe?) wanted bourbon to be the national drink. This rules and even if it isn't true, don't tell me.

Ludacris rules.

Oh yeah, vote bitches.

There is no Title, Fuckface

These are the two plants that we have (courtesy of me).

These are the new plants that I have gotten.

Where the fuck did I put that book?

Bored

I'm as bored as this guy at the library.

What the fuck am I still doing awake?