.im not crazy.

this is my homes, DJ. i swear i was trippin, but i took one look at him and said... yo, you know what, dawg? you look just like johnny depp in pirates of the caribbean. now, i've brought this to the attention of others, but all i get is disbelief. so here it is for the nay-sayers; a side by side comparison of the two for your own eyes to be astounded by. granted it's not "uncanny" parse, but shit... i think that's pretty close. Disney, if you could go ahead and prepare those 5% royalties, pleasethankyou.

(pirates of the caribbean, captain jack sparrow, and that poster design there are trademarks of Disney. any reproduction is disallowed without proper authority;

consequences for infractions will result in:
[1.] an old fashioned walk of shame in iron shackles
    [1.5] with a vegetable pelting by paying Disneyland customers
[2.] followed by walking the plank off the top of cinderella's castle.)

.DriveBy Essay:Valentine's Edition.

Valentine's Day is for suckers. Beneath the caring and affectionate front is an underlying tone of destruction; just as the essence of love. During this time is when emotions are at its most unstable. There's the stress of presents or fabricating that special moment. There's the stress of sexual performance, or lack there of. There's even stress on the single person who has to observe this overly hyped day of reckoning. I can't even make my bed! What makes you think I can deal with this shit, too!?

The entire validity of Valentine's Day is in question. Holidays are set aside for the politically influential or religious figures that have made an everlasting ripple on society. But this; this is a day to celebrate love, a relative and indefinable idea. In the age of fairness and political correctness, I propose there be an equal opportunity TO HATE those you once loved. For instance, you collect the things of hers which you haven't yet burned or blown to kingdom come in a box with a tender little bow and you place with it a note with something like the following:

Dear [whatever the bastard's name is],
      Here are your things. I've cherished these items in hopes that we may one day cross paths into love again. That will never happen because, frankly, I've found someone who is in every conceivable way, better than you; and her "spot" doesn't smell like rotting fish. Nice to have known you. By the way, if, what's his name, ever breaks your heart, know that I will be laughing my ass off at you forever and ever... not to say that i'm not doing it already.
      Sincerely,
      [place your awesome name here].

Use what leftover hate you have to cook bacon, because bacon is good.

Now, it's not that I don't like love; in fact, I enjoy it as the next person who wants to get laid, but there's something about one SPECIFIC day to recognize it. I mean, what do you do on normal days, people? Sit on your ass and do nothing!? I say for the sake of experiment, don't do anything on the 14th; if you haven't been an ass all year, you'll find out quick. That should be a surprise she wasn't expecting! Hey, I just thought of something. Why does the NFL season end just as February begins? I bet it's "her" fault.

So as you spend this day reflecting back on how you two fell in love and how you've progressed as a couple since then, please be aware that there are others on the planet who hate your guts with a passion. We don't want to see you kiss or hug or any of that crap because we feel sorry that you can't make your own decisions anymore without consulting permission first. Happy Valentine's Day!

.death from above.

as i pulled into the valencia parking lot this evening i came across an unusual site; there in the middle of the parking lot was a small brown bird overshadowing another that had apparently been struck down by a passing car not too long ago. i immediately parked to observe this one of a kind event at which nature was undoubtly more human than not. i arose from my car to watch as the bird standing at his comrade's side began to flap its wings at the accumulating flies. 2 other cars passed, their occupants gazing with the same look of perplextion as i had when first arriving at the scene. with no other cares in the world than his fallen friend, the bird stayed bound at his place there in a shallow pain; grief stricken and trying to understand the simple ways of death.

two minutes passed as i stood watching with an empty emotion as another car began to pass. i looked away at the driver for a second to see a similar look on him as those before. as i drew my attetion back at the two birds, the one standing began to pick at the feathers of the fallen.

WTF?!

i almost gasped! what in the hell was it doing!?? as i thought about it, more and more feathers were coming off the downed body and the living proceeded to... yeah... well... pick at it like somebody savoring the flavor of a gourmet dish.

omfg... survival is brutal. for a minute i thought as though we knew less than what nature exposed. i guess i was wrong... hungry fuckers.

.this nugga.

if a good looking female stares at you, you should probably do something. if she smiles at you and you know she is because the WALL's behind you, it should contest some response. IF SHE WAVES AT YOU, it's probably a good chance that she wants attention.

but no. not for rainer. he's... ice cold?

as i drove him home he went on about his love life stunk; about how he just cant find a good woman.

DUDE! YOU'RE 22! OPEN YOUR DAMN EYES!!!

if you want it. go after it. if your expectations dont lead you to happiness... change your expectations.

thankyoudrivethrough