Mr. Slice

I learned about the comic/actor, Joe Rogan, tonight. I was watching UFC on Spike, earlier in the day, and I was thinking, Gee, it's weird how Joe Rogan used to be a comedian, but now he is a UFC commentator. So I asked my girlfriend about Joe Rogan, and she explained that he still does stand-up, and that he fights for comedians' rights by heckling Carlos Mencia for stealing jokes from people. I had never heard about that whole scandal. So I went on YouTube and watched a video of Rogan calling out Mencia on stage at a comedy club. It was interesting. Rogan seems like a good guy, and I like how he handled the confrontation. I guess it's easy to confront people when you're all UFC'd out. I wouldn't fuck with Joe Rogan. Next thing you know, you got Kimbo Slice comin' atcha with threshing fists, giving you a mouse under your eye.

Sometimes I picture calling out sick for work and having Kimbo Slice sub for my classes. That would be sweet. Give the kids a good scare.

I killed a house centipede tonight. I don't like killing those, because I respect them, but it needed to be done. I have a duty to defend my girlfriend against all bugs, because they bring her overwhelming terror. I respect house centipedes, because they are our friends, and they eat many common pests, such as the cockroach. I also think that house centipedes have beautiful, long legs that are delicate, yet powerful. They have venom, you know. They need the venom to expunge their prey. They can live for something like eight years, I think. That's crazy. I respect them profoundly, like I do spiders. Very impressive creatures of the world. You know that part in the movie, Dune, where the guy rides on top of the worm? That would be me, on top of a house centipede, if they became giants, and if I had the spice. That would be me, feeling a bond with the centipede and riding proudly on its powerful torso, its blurry legs rippling on either side of me and carrying us along at high speeds.

The movie, Dune, is weird. I think it has Sting in it. And force fields. And a talking baby. And a fat guy that hovers.

Wax and Wane, Perhaps?

I haven't seen the moon for quite some time. It probably hasn't changed a bit.

Tonight, my girlfriend and her friend got intoxicated and showed up at my comedy open mic. They were good audience members. After we got out of there, we went to Taco Bell and ordered some tacos. They were actually really delicious. I hadn't been to Taco Bell for so long. Run for the border. Then we went into Filene's Basement so that my girlfriend's friend could use the restroom. Then we went to a pizza joint. I had a Fresca.

Sleep's coming at me pretty hard right now. I'm gonna sleep hard tonight.

Captain's Blog: Star-date 5/27/10. Uhp, I just fell asleep while writing that. I'm out.

Double-bowl of Golden Grahams

Big wow. Golden Grahams are delicious. Have you ever had a big bowl of Golden Grahams? Jesus hell, those things are toothsome. I just had a big bowl of Shredded Wheat, then I followed it with a double-bowl of Golden Grahams. Triple threat. Now I feel unwell.

Tonight, my girlfriend accused my cat of having knobby knees. She said he mounted her and poked her with his knobby knees.

I did some dishes tonight, and a lot of laundry. That's it. That's all I did. When you do laundry, your night is blown, and you might as well not try to do anything else.

I think I need to retire for the evening. I sense the Sandman.

Feed flapjacks to a bunch of jocks (before the big game).

Park Slope Sanctimoniousness

Booyeah!!!

I bombed at tonight's comedy open mic at Puppets Jazz Club, in Park Slope. Apparently, people in Park Slope are too good for poop jokes. Or crude humor, in general. That makes sense, since Park Slope is Opposite Land. You tell some vulgar jokes here in Krap Slope, and people will just love it. Actually, I believe my jokes would be unfunny to most of the people in Krap Slope, too. Blam! One great thing about tonight is that I am getting better at bombing. I can handle it better, now. That's key.

My girlfriend wants me to watch Glee with her. That show is good. I like it. But I felt inspired to sit in the study and blog. Yessss! She just tried to give me the middle finger with her toe, but she didn't have the motor skills. She wants me to watch the show and--get this--blog at the same time. What? C'mon! Not all of us have a gigantic corpus callosum that allows for multitasking. I'll just sit in here, thanks, and mono-task.

I just ate a perfectly constructed turkey sandwich, which featured cracked pepper turkey. Oh yup! I think I need another.

I rode my bike today. It was pleasurable.

Sucks I couldn't see Mike Birbiglia tonight in Brooklyn. He performed at Union Hall, but the shit was all sold out. That guy is funny as heck. "Heck" is my favorite curse word. Go to heck.

I finally finished reading Gravity's Rainbow, by Thomas Pynchon. What a nightmare. That book did not go down smooth at all. I believe I started reading it six months ago. I definitely missed the basic concept of the text. In addition, I definitely had no idea what was going on in the story 90% of the time. I plowed through it, though, like an angry yak. Grrrrrrr! I basically just read the words on the pages until the story was done, without experiencing any sort of story, whatsoever.

Bleh.

Brittany Murphy is Dead

Guess what? Brittany Murphy died. Only, it happened five months ago. I am bad with current events. I found out about it on the news tonight, while watching a news story about how her widower husband just died. Weirdness.

I am really pushing it tonight with my bedtime. Dammit! I've really just painted myself into a sleep corner, again. Now I've done it. I pounded two whole Red Stripes tonight. Red Stripe is a decent lager. I like the pudgy shape of the bottle. The shape of the bottle makes me want to bottle someone. You know? It's all little and easily concealed, like a Saturday Night Special. It's like that part in A Bronx Tale where the kid is like, "This gun makes me want to fuckin' shoot somebody," or something like that.

You know where you can buy Red Stripe? The local Pioneer supermarket! Yes, you may! It's probably virtually impossible to find it elsewhere. So just head over to Krap Slope, "Kra-Slo," to the corner of Parkside and Ocean Ave., and stop in and make the freakin' purchase. And don't even try to get it at the Park Slope Food Co-op, because they have never heard of it. That shit is so underground, you can't even begin to know what it's like to hear of it. Listen to me when I tell you how much people in Park Slope haven't heard a sound about it.

The chicken in the KFC commercial looks dry. I like the commercial, though. And the chicken, I think.

I seem to be blogging myself to sleep, here. My girlfriend is trying to fall asleep next to me, because she thinks she's cool or tired or something. What a jerkstorm. I just gave her the finger and she doesn't even know.

I never understood why Al Bundy didn't want to have sex with Peggy. She was totally a sexpot. I could never suspend my disbelief enough to buy into that part of the show.

I am yours in the bowels of Christ. Be well.

My Freakin' Camera Was in a Gym Sock

What the frig. I just wasted about a half hour looking for my digital camera. I wanted to take a new photo for this new post. I found it under my bed in a gym sock, with a clump of cat hair stuck to it. I keep the camera in a gym sock so that it stays protected (I don't have a case), but usually I don't let it slide under the bed like that. I don't know what the hell happened. I was psyched to find the camera, but now I have to wait for the battery to charge. Woe is me.

I spent most of the day inside my apartment, playing with my beard. It was something else. My girlfriend got home at about 5:30 PM, and we went out to the local Pioneer supermarket. It was sweet. I was feeling pretty good, because I had just completed a challenging prison-cell indoor workout, and I felt up to the task of carrying plastic bags filled with provisions. All smooth, except for one snag: bad meat. I bought bad meat. So we had to return the meat after we got some pizza slices and garlic knots at Family Pizza (a mainstay!). When I went back to the Pioneer to return the meat, I said to the Cold Cut Guy, "Hey, hi. Yeah, hup, hey, this turkey smells really bad." And he was like, "Eh?" And I replied, "Yeah it smells really weird and tastes wrong." And he was like, "No it doesn't." And then we went back and forth for a while, and we both re-tested the bad meat, and he insisted that the meat was fine. But he was cool and let me exchange the meat for a different flavor of meat. So now, instead of having a pound of Low Sodium Boar's Head Turkey, I have a pound of Boar's Head Cracked Pepper Turkey. Booyeah.

Bigtime. It's hot outside, so I hear a lot of action on the streets. The streets are alive with activity. There have got to be at least 15 Razor scooters out there right now. Those things are so loud and rattley. Some guy just whipped down the street in his SUV with ground effects, blaring bachata and beeping his horn. He stopped in front of our building, had some sort of interaction, beeped his horn again, then absconded. Then some old lady yelled at her daughter with a thick West Indian accent. Then my girlfriend yelled at the cat. Then the cat floundered on one of the couch pillows with an expression of panic on his furry visage.

Traffic Update! This just in: Flatbush Ave. was blocked off at Parkside today, because some sort of thing was going on. I looked at how it was blocked off, and then I investigated further by squinting and looking down the street. Then I quickly became uninterested and resumed walking toward the pizza shop. So much activity on the streets!

I ate two garlic knots. The pizza shop is using new, flashy pizza boxes. I forgot to do my laundry. I want an ice cream sandwich.

Action on the streets!

Coconut Rice Crispies

Here's me, staying up very late on a big Saturday night in! Check out this coconut I broke open and then used as a bowl to eat my Rice Crispies and Rice Milk. Blammo! This was a big first for me.

Big wow. So my girlfriend knows lots of stuff, and she told me I should start a popular blog. So here it is. I really have no idea what I am going to write in this big dumb blog. My girlfriend doesn't know what the hell she is talking about. What an idiot. Do you know who my girlfriend is? Her name is, Jane "You Should Make a Blog" Mcknownothing. What a dorksquad. I can't wait until this blog completely flops so I can rub it in her face until the end of time.

So anyway, I put a picture up there of me with half of a coconut. Big freakin' whoop. What the hell happens now? That picture is from like two months ago. It's not even recent. I suck at the Internet and I can't even believe I was able to create this blog with this silly design template 'n' stuff. I want to shoot a Nerf gun at the Internet. Whaaaaat?!!! That doesn't even make sense!!!

I think this blog entry might be going horribly awry. I am playing with my beard a lot. I wonder if people from all over the globe will soon read about me playing with my beard. The Internet makes our world so small and pathetic.

I'm pretty sure my blog sucks pretty bad. Fuck! I'm really doing it to myself this time.

So I started doing Stand-up Comedy again for the first time in about seven years. It's been fun. I have been doing it for a couple of weeks. Open mics. Man, I really floundered and failed, one night. Bombing doesn't feel very nice. I should probably get used to it, though. I am boring myself with this paragraph.

I saw a little kid fall down tonight in Prospect Park. What an idiot. I also saw some dudes with gas-powered RC cars. I stopped and watched the RC car session. I used to have a sweet RC car. It was a Team Losi Jr. T. I ordered it from a catalogue. It came with a video in which the awkward, dorky RC car guys show you how to assemble the car. I remember one part of the video where the guy says, "Now, you hook up the motor up" and he sounds like a real ass because that shit is redundant. What a complete idiot.

If you're ever gonna get pants, make sure to get sweatpants.