20081125

Yeah, missed the boat on this one...

Two of the most moronic people in America decided to mate, and I totally missed it. This really harshes my buzz. Pete Wentz, iconic frontman (bass player, douche) of Chicago-based Fallout Boy, who once sent a photo of his shadowy cock around the world has managed to find someone more ridiculous than himself to impregnate. Now who's that lucky, pirate-dancing, lip-syncing girl? Well, that'd be none other than less-than-golden girl Ashlee Simpson.


Let's start wit this guy. Fuck. Need I say more?
Yes.
Let's say you play bass and you join a band. Will you ever be the most badass person in the band? Chances are leaning towards "no", unless of course you' are Geddy Lee, in which case you are fully excluded from this. But honestly you'll probably be fat or awkward looking...or just be a shadow in the background. Now how the fuck did this dick-showing fake fuck gain so much attention and notoriety? I'll tell you how: being a COMPLETE fuckwad. I met the guy (way back in the "...Evening Out With Your Girlfriend" days) and he seemed fine, he seemed like a bassist. The band went on to gain major stardom with "Take This To Your Grave". I fell off the bandwagon and this ridiculous fuck started a clothing line and started wearing eyeliner...THAT'S when it all happened. I assume it went down like this:

Record Label PR Rep: Hey Pete, can I speak with you for a moment?
Pete Wentz: What? Fuck you, guy!
RLPRR: You'll be
perfect for this!
PW: What?!

RLPRR: Here's some eyeliner, hit the bathroom, son!
*Ass Slap*


I'm sure the PR guy ended up being less of a douche than Wentz himself.

There's always the subject of the dick shot, though. I could go on for hours about how scarred I am, but we'll get back to that in a second. What disturbs the shit out of me even more than that is his baby-sized suicide attempt. Here's a little scenario to think about involving suicide.

I'm sad, I really want to kill myself (or DO I!?!).
I know what I'll do, I'll go buy a fucking pistol and blow my brains out! (But then I'd be dead.)

Here's something that sounds fun, I'll overdose on ANXIETY MEDICINE because ALL SORTS OF PEOPLE HAVE SUCCESSFULLY FUCKING KILLED THEMSELVES DOING SO!
FIN!


Honestly, and this isn't me being some insensitive prick, if you're planning on doing it just go out in a blaze of glory. Don't puss out, or you'll die an even more cowardly death than you would have committing suicide in the first place.

But back to the dick. I know I'm not the only one who accidentally saw that photo. But if you didn't, I think I can explain it pretty well after nearly three years of seeing that. Let me clarify, I have only seen this dick ONCE, and I'm not about to go google it right now.

The first step is to not shave your swimsuit zone for six months, all the while abstaining from showering and any form of personal hygiene. Make sure every drop of sweat and saliva you create drips down into your pubic zone. During that six month period it's very important to rub maple syrup and cooking flour in the swimsuit zone, this can be done with clothes on or off. The finale to this amazing journey is to find the most horrible pair of scissors you can find (if not, soak some in water for the six month period). Use these scissors to cut the overgrown bush you've grown, but make sure you cut yourself a few times (preferably on the shaft to ensure infection) while doing so. Once that's done get excited enough to half-dog it and whip out the T-Mobile Sidekick to get a crystal clear shot of that nasty wang-zone!


What may be even more startling is the damsel in distress who flocked to him after her few minutes were up. Yeah, I'm talking about that bitch. Ashlee Simpson it is. Remember right when Jessica Simpson hit the scene and she was super hot and could sing well? Then her little sister stepped into the light, she was not super hot and couldn't sing..well...at all I guess.
I honestly couldn't tell you how many times I've just imagined her doing the "I-just-lip-synced-pirate-dance" and almost had a heart attack. That, in itself, should be enough reason for the world to hate you. But, if you look even further back in her impressive history you see that she dated none other than pop sensation Ryan Cabrera, who makes me want to shoot myself.
Of course, Ashlee did have to go ruin the one thing she had going for her. She was the little, imperfect sister and that gave her an edge. Had she not gotten all Milli Vanilli on our asses she'd have been a great role model for everyones little sister everywhere. She went under the knife and lost that edge. What irks me the most about that? She came out looking like her fucking hot sister. And that ruins my entire life, because now there are two hot, stupid Simpsons and only one that is stupid hot. Ashlee Simpson can ROT in hell, rot, dude.

The last word here is the offspring, the child. First of all, the kid is going to be a piece of shit, eyeliner-wearing, plastic, lip-syncing robot child. And to top it all off, it has the most horrible name in the history of mankind other than maybe "Bus Station No. 9" or whatever that weird couple in Australia did to their kid. It's really a big deal, because if anything this proves that fame and fortune will, in fact, make you the biggest idiot ever. The name of this kid is...wait I can do this with pictures.















Or just...





Bronx Mowgli Wentz. B.M.W.
That's pretty much the end of it, I will never have faith in humanity ever again.
Thank you, idiots, you have succeeded at failing and ruining a few days of my life.

20081118

endo

Sometimes you're just fucked.
And I say that with complete honesty.


Have you ever done something so...half-assed, or uh, fucking hasty I guess. Without thinking about it, I guess.
The answer is yes.
It's always fucking yes.

Is that okay?
Again, the answer is always fucking yes.

I want to go grab a badass suit. Like, dress-up suit. I'll wear it with the class I can't afford to sport, and I'll go punch every one of you fucks square in the mouth. The blood will drip down off of your chin, and ruin your badass, like, dress-up suit that you wear with the class you can afford to. And when I succeed in doing this, you're fuck personality won't get the point. You'll stand up straight, perfect posture, smooth your old ass hair back and hit me back. And if you haven't the balls? Have someone else do it for me with a baseball bat, only instead of hitting my face they'll be whacking away at my knees.

Then I'll sue your ass, and laugh when I lose, because it cost you just as much as it did me. Only difference is, those thousands upon thousands of dollars spent on court could've just as easily been saved to pay for my rent or buy some fucking hot dogs and weed. Well, maybe not hot dogs. Caviar or something since we're talking about thousands of fucking dollars. Caviar and Champagne.

Really dude, fuck you. I know you're Calvin Kleins have shitstains up and down the backside. Because you're a fucking douchebag and can't wipe. I feel like I'm high enough and can go into detail on that, but I can't. And that's just fine, you get the point.

20080922

weak.

I hate being sick, man.
The pressure in my brain, all the snot and shit I'm shooting everywhere. Fuck.
You know how your temperature goes up and down all the time when you're sick? That too, that sucks as well.
I can't smoke cigs, barely cheif, and I've got no food.
I need to get some food.

20080919

Fuck trying to sleep in the heat.

The most unbearable part about this is the fact that summer ends soon...in three days.
But right now is the hottest it's been in my room since we moved into this house.
It's honestly a good ten degrees hotter in here than the rest of the house...fucking weak.

Let's start a list of things less painful than trying to sleep in a hot ass room:

  • Shoving a glass thermometer in my pee-hole and smashing it with a small, thermometer-sized hammer.
  • Losing a tongue.
  • Get hit by a car.
  • Be internally decomposed by maggots.
  • Be burned alive.
  • Be buried alive.
  • Be a victim of the Black Dahlia Murders. Yes, that means my wounds would be violently and involuntarily fornicated.
I think we get the picture here....fact of the matter is, and this is the big one, sweat sucks ass. I wasn't planning on showering and now I have to. FUCK.

20080918

Work early...

I'm a bitchin' machine.
I hate going to work early....more on that later.

Shit man, Thursday.

Willie Graves of The Plot To Blow Up The Eiffel Tower died a few days ago.
Read here.

Sad shit if you ask me, One Good Stab Deserves Another goes out to you and your fine bass playing, sir.

Joe Champion made me go back to this blog, maybe I'll keep it up now.

Oh, making Nostalgia Station in my basement tonight over a few Shiners and bowls, I'll let you know the outcome.

20080213

In my next house...

I might have musical equipment in the basement or somewhere else, but I will make a general rule that you can't play them unless you fucking live here, or you are the respected player (i.e. guitar, bass, drums) of said instrument in one of my roommates bands.

I shouldn't have to beg for silence every day, I also shouldn't have to listen to people "learn" to play an instrument unless they are paying for it. Sounds petty, but if you had to listen to this you'd kick a dog in the ass too. Good day.