Fly On A Wall

Like My Father

A lot of women will say things like, "Oh, I just wanna meet a nice guy" but really, women want a guy, and it's usually subconscious, they want a guy who is like their father.

Doesn't that give you a kinda creepy incest vibe?

"I want a guy who is like my father, 'cause he f*cked me SOOOO good, I want a guy that can f*ck me like my father!"

Ew.

What if you're adopted?

Do you want a person like you're step-dad?

"I want a guy who never cares about me, just like my step-dad!"

What I'm getting at is parents suck.

Men however, are said to want women who are like their mothers, and this is true, because what man wouldn't want a women who would cook, clean and bath them? Honestly?

You show me a guy who DOESN'T want that, and I'll show you a happy couple.

m@rk

Car Harrassment

So I visisted my grandpa today in Santa Cruz. Afterwards I went for something to eat, and on the truck in front of my moms car was a slogan and a number. It was apparently a grass cutting company, and their slogan was, "The best for the mow, blow and go!"

It just SOUNDS dirty.

I really would be an awful driver, mostly for the fact that I'd call those numbers, and harrass the people driving the truck, and they wouldn't know where I was. Because they couldn't turn around while driving. So they'd be looking for me, but I'd be driving right behind them, and I'd start off asking kinda innocent questions, and then go into more personal questions, until it's full on bizzare. I'd go from:

*How did you get this job?

TO

*What is your pants size?

TO

*And HOW OLD is your daughter?

I love freaking people out.
And that being said, don't look in your closet tonight...

m@rk

Presents From Beyond

Ya like that wordplay, don't ya?

Alright, so my mom's mother (my born grandmother) died more than a year ago. I was extremely close to her, as was my mother, OBVIOUSLY, but let me just state something. When you die, you are buried in a coffin, AND EATEN BY WORMS. Nothing else happens. The mystery of life now having been cleared up, my mother actually believes something INSANE. A few weeks ago, this humming bird nest showed up at her ranch where she keeps her horses, and there were two babies, and a mother. She had her friend photograph them and she watched them every time she went up there. Eventually, they left, and she was sad, but she considered it a gift from her mother because her mother loved humming birds, she considered it a personal gift. This morning, I saw a humming bird buzzing about outside my window, and yeah, it was pretty cool and I watched it for a few moments, but after that I got bored and continued watching TV. Suddenly, I saw it come back and it was looking at, what I assumed at the time because of the distance and color, was a leaf. I called my mom in, just because she likes humming birds. She realized that what I thought was a leaf, turned out to be a nest with two humming birds in it, babies, and the one buzzing around, the mother. She freaked out and assumed it was some great gift from beyond, and got a video camera and got my dad to take more pictures, and was thanking her mother, saying it was some special thing.

Now, let me just make one thing clear. IF....okay....IF there is an afterlife, I'm pretty sure the people who die are far too busy resting and visiting different dimensions and sh*t like that, ya know, finding out the secrets of the universe, instead of sending us gifts! Dead people cannot send you gifts, but my mother actually believes this stuff! Yeah, the birds are cool, and even I'll admit it's a damn spooky coincidence, but there is no way in HELL....er...heaven for that matter, that dead people are able to send us stuff! Okay? So stop believing it, I know it may make you feel better, and if you believe it to make you feel closer to your lost ones, THAT'S fine, but don't TRULY believe it because it sounds "logical" and "possible". That's just f*ckin' stupid.

M@RK

Taxi

(bit of a longwinded post, and no it's not about the Jim Brooks classic show by the same name).

I just took a Taxi home from Colton's house. I left at about 3:47 am. I assumed the guy on the other end was just a guy in an office, but ya know that time of morning where you're so exhausted and hungry that anything starts to make sense, and theories begin to swirl around in your noggin? Yeah, TTTHHHAAATTT time of day. That was this time. Where you really start to THINK about things, and then THOSE things start to think about things. It's a thinking party in your brain. So as soon as I hung up the phone, I immediately assumed that that guy was writing down everything he knew about me. That he had me up on his computer screen, and was checking out where I was born, what time and sh*t like that, and then he sent one of his goons to get me. I assumed that as soon as I got in the Taxi, the guy would take me to some abandoned warehouse, and a whole "Hostel" thing would unfurl.

I effing LOVE that time of day.
Great ideas for movies.

But of course the guy arrived and the only thing that happened was I had to pay him. Not too bad. But as soon as I got in, the guy asked me, "So, is where you're wanting to go in San Jose?"
NOT what you wanna hear when taking public transportation.
SERIOUSLY.

The dude shouldn't be in the business if he doesn't know where the F*CK his people are going! Specifically since I told his boss on the phone before where I was, and where I was HEADED. You just ASSUME that they'd tell the DRIVE THIS KIND OF SH*T! But nonetheless, I told him where I was headed, and so we were off. I have another theory then pop into my cranium. All the red stop lights we could hit, we DID hit. Because Taxi's take fare, I started to wonder if there was some dude at the Taxi company who could see all the lights on the streets, and decided, on all the streets the Taxi's were on, the hit the red lights so that the fare would go up when we're not moving. Now THAT theory actually does make a lick of sense. To me anyway. Point is, we got to my house and everything was fine, but still, a note about public transportation, this is the worst moment in my PT history:

I was taking a school bus home. The bus asked me where I live. AGAIN, bad thing if they have to ASK you, especially a school bus who has a LIST of the students, and their addresses! Okay, I got past that, no big whoop. But here comes the GREAT part. Apparently, my street (being horizontal and all) crosses over into the parking lot for the light rail station. So the bus pulls into the parking lot for the light rail station. YES BUS DRIVE, I LIVE IN THE F*CKING LIGHT RAIL PARKING LOT!

Ugh, I am SO learning to drive soon.

M@RK

When I Grow Up

You're always told as a kid that you can be whatever you wanna be when you grow up, basically encouraging murderer as a job. How do you handle a kid that wants to hurt people?

"Billy, what do YOU want to do when YOU grow up?"
"I WANNA BLOW PEOPLE UP!"

Like, it just isn't cool. And most of these kids have unrealistic dreams, like being an astronaut, and sh*t like that. They don't understand the hard work that goes into becoming an astronaut, they just think that when you grow up, you get to choose a card out of a hat and *BOOM*! JOB!

Let's encourage kids to take better routes in life. I say, tell a kid the truth. Tell them what they CAN be when they grow up. And what they CAN'T be. And possibly, based on those vocational tests, take their skills and traits into consideration. Ya know?
"Well Raymond, you can't be an airplane pilot because you only have one arm, HOWEVER, you CAN join a circus! Doesn't that sound like fun?!"

You're always being lied to when you're a kid. Don't sit too close to the TV because it will ruin your eyes. If you keep making that face it will stay like that. Drink 8 glasses of water a day. Get 8 hours of sleep. School is important. Authority is your friend. And of course, the parents saying, "We love you no matter WHAT you turn out to be."

Then ten years down the road Billy becomes a terrorist and blows up a national art museum killing hundreds and injuring a few, and his parents are the first to decline he was their child. Stop lying to kids. They're already f*cked up enough. Especially if they're reading THIS blog.

M@RK

Inane Twitterings

The twitterings of a madman:

"vandelayinc: if you're stuck in the mountains and have to eat someone, and you eat the chinese guy, will you be hungry again in a half hour? 2 minutes ago from web"

I mean, here I am, sitting at the computer, with all the information of important world happenings at my fingertips (thanks to wikipedia). I could be writing about the election, oil prices and stopping this myth called "global warming", but instead I think of sh*t like this.

Where would our world be without straightforward thinking men like myself?

Actually, it'd probably be in a better off shape.

M@RK

Late Night Writing

I have found sometimes that my best and deepest profound writings often come to me when I'm up late, in the solitude of my own peacefulness. No sounds, nothing. A fan blowing, and a small light on with my laptop is often the best time to write. I saved myself until just now to write this entry, it's exactly 1:56 in the morning, and I did this because I wanted you to be able to compare to the diet coke ramblings of the supposed "genius" I consider myself to be during the day. I'm kinda like Superman.

A mild mannered funny blogger by day.
A deep insightful blogger by night.

But most of all, I do it for myself. I find that writing soothes whatever issues I am having at that moment. I don't even have to write about those issues. I've found that if I just plain WRITE, I will start focusing on my writing and not on the issues, and they go away. Sure, probably not the healthiest way to deal with them, much like drinking for pain or cutting for pleasure, but it certainly is a nice way to get some quick and easy stress relief.

I also sound smarter the later it gets, because of the cleared head with nothing going on inside it (which apparently many believe I have ALL THE TIME), I find it easier to concentrate and make a good argument or statement. Usually I find my arguments and statements to be pretty well thought out and organized, but here I can use big smart words, like "THE" and "BALL", and I sound....well, like 2ND grader actually, but whatever.

My point is this. If you're going to write, write at night, it makes you sound smarter.
I don't know it is, maybe the no distractions, but whatever it is, it works.

That or shock therapy.

M@RK

Luck

My cousin sent me a video in a URL link the other day, about Lindsay Lohan in an interview. The funny thing is, halfway through it, the interviewer said (the video was about her movie "just my luck") that he got ice cream from Dairy Cream once and a bird pooped in it right before he could start eating it.

Lohan went, "But that's GOOD LUCK isn't it?"

Yes. That's good luck to have a possible mouth full of sh*t. The HILARIOUS part to me is that apparently luck is interchangeable. Meaning that if something bad happens to you, something even better or something good will happen soon after. So I guess that means the next time I see a guy in a brutal horrific car accident, missing organs and his legs are broken, I can think to myself, "Well, at least he'll find a penny tomorrow."

That doesn't work!

And it's a stupid idea to believe! Look, I'm not sure luck really exists in some instances, I think we live our lives and our choices are what influence the outcomes of those said decisions. We bring sh*t onto ourselves. It's, as I've said, a Vicious Circle. And a lot of the time, we are innocent bystanders. We walk into some certain situations and are the friggin' victim. So lots of these things aren't even our fault to begin with!

So because I had a good day today, I guess tomorrow I'll get attacked by a bear....downtown.

'Cause that makes SOOOO much f*ckin' sense right?

M@RK

People Person

Today is the last day of CCOC for this year.

And I'm thanking god, even though I don't believe in her, that I never have to see these people again. I am an anti-social person, but as amazing as this will sound even with me being anti-social, as anti-social as I've gotten over the years, I like people. But once you get up past a minute-minute and a half, I can't stand them. My reasoning is because people suck. There are very few select people that I have total tolerance for. My small group of friends, and of course my best friend. But that's really about it. Besides the few selected teachers and adult friends, I hate most people. One of my reasons is that most of the kids in this class aren't going anywhere and have NO FUTURE, and there are teachers in any school who will admit the same first.

Anyway, as rude as this post sounded, it's totally true in the context of people I can stand, tolerate, or just plain hate. I still consider myself a people person, in the sense that I hate people.

M@RK

Role Models

I once heard my cousin's mother tell her that her obsession with Lindsay Lohan bad because Lohan is a terrible role model. Well, sorry to burst your bubble people, but role model's don't exist. We made 'em up. Like our rights, amendments, religion, sh*t like that. And I can prove this with my usual flawless logic.

Because, there's two sides to the role model argument. There's people who will say, "They're good role models" and then, "They're bad role models". Hitler is a bad role model. Lindsay Lohan is NOT a bad role model compared to Hitler. I'd rather have my kid worship Lohan than Hitler, and the reason she's not a bad role model compared to Hitler is because, well Lohan never IMPRISONED THE JEWS AND KILLED THEM. The worst she's done is drink and drugs, and honestly, in the idea of it all, some teen is gonna do that stuff WITHOUT having a role model anyway. Listen, no teenager sees a celebrity doing something and then wanna do it. Kids play Basketball because they enjoy it, not because they see Michael Jordon.

Same thing with the Hitler argument. You're kids gonna do stupid and terrible things, but they'll also pull off some great amazing things, it has nothing to do with role models. I consider Abraham Lincoln a good role model, but I don't see any of my classmates pulling to free the slaves. It just ain't gonna happen. That's my point, role models have no effect on what we do in our lives. If we're gonna do drugs, we're gonna do drugs, we're not gonna do them because Lohan did them, or whomever did them.

And for the record, I think Lohan's a good role model. She's shown them that girls can do anything as well as men, including getting facked up. It's all bullsh*t folks. Leave her alone. Leave it alone. You've lost this battle. You want a good role model? Try taking after me.

I at least have logic.

M@RK