I have been going through a rough spot of late. One of the few things in life that I find meaningful has lost that magic spark. I have enjoyed this activity for some thirteen years and it has meant the world to me. Throughout the bad times I could always count on it to see me through. Heck, it even managed to make the great times even better. All good things must come to an end; apparently what once provided profound joy is no more. Nothing can prepare you to lose such integral part of life; I can think is that it ended far too soon. One might wonder what act could mean so much to an obese, single, twenty-three year old man; those same people are considered functionally retarded. Anyway, I guess it is time to say goodbye. My once legendary (to me at least) libido is no more.

It is possible this is just another symptom of my impending and inevitable bout with diabetes. Or maybe I just did it too much. Performing any action in excess of ten-thousand times can lead to serious side effects, especially in such a relatively short period of time. Many eastern traditions, in particular Hindu schools of thought, believe that the seed of man contains his soul’s vitality. One must preserve as much as possible or risk an untimely demise. This would have been fine if I could have at least performed the act one last time right before my heart exploded. One can only wish.


Go to hell

I had an enlightening conversation with dad today. We were discussing, well ok I was discussing as to whether Mary remained a virgin throughout her life. Dad agreed with my assertion that Mary must have fulfilled her wifely duties to Joseph and likely popped out a few Jesus-lites. Thinking the topic was over I proceeded to discuss OSU's defeat and how it was due to large part to Maurice Clarrett. Dad, bored with the OSU debacle, decided to further elaborate on his opinion of the Virgin Mary. First, he was very sure that she was not a virgin before the birth of Jesus. Either she was "knocked up" by Joseph or more then likely had a little fling on the side and in order to save her dignity created this whole "immaculate conception" story. He figured that she was anything but pure and most likely was a lady with questionable morals. Ok actually he referred to the Lord's mother as a whore.

While the above exchange was very entertaining, a part of me is very sad. Dad is now doomed to eternal damnation. I mean sure one can argue that Mary had children the old fashioned way after Jesus but to insinuate way she whored around with a Roman soldier just isn’t kosher.

This post is dedicated to my father and his blasphemous views. He might be going to hell but at least he is entertaining me along the way.



Go to hell

I am dying. My stomach is both on fire and full of gas. That is a very volatile combination. As I sit here writhing in my chair a strange thought dawns on me. What have I accomplished in life? The answer of course is not a whole lot. Sure I have only lived twenty-three years and there is only so much one can do. However, Bob has somehow managed to do less than nothing. His life has been series of meaningless travesties. There were some good times like when I "borrowed' the maintenance van or that time I accidentally pushed a small dumpster down a very large hill. But for every speeding mass of metal there were two incidents involving women with breasts located under their arms. It feels like only yesterday when I "made out" with a woman who resembled an offensive lineman at Ohio State, or that time I paid two women to kiss me and one proceeded to mock my lack of tongue related abilities.

I am a miserable failure, and it is fitting that my demise will involve an exploding mass of shit.

At least I have one thing to look forward and you know what that is boys and girls? You are all going to hell.


Thank you and have a nice day.

go to hell

I participated in a charity auction yesterday. It raised money for some artsy, fartsy festival downtown. Since most of the city is either illiterate or retarded I was surprised by the interest generated by the event. I am not sure what the final tally was, but at last count they made over $7,500, which was way beyond their expectations. As usual I did a fantastic job; perhaps auctioning truly is my calling in life. Then again I am still leaning towards becoming a serial killer when I grow up.

A couple weeks ago I started to really miss my ex-girlfriend(s). It was nice having someone to hold, take out to dinner, watch movies and dry hump. Of course those times are over and unlikely to happen again. At least I have my hamster to keep me company.

The following is directed towards all of you fine folk who find themselves in healthy, happy, loving relationships.

Go directly to hell, do not pass go and make damn sure to stick a rusty fork up your collective asses.

Oh and I envy you all very much.

Go to hell

I need a life. It is 3:47 am and I have only been up nine hours. I did not get out of bed until 7:00 pm. What the fuck is wrong with me? I am reenacting my sophomore year in college minus the copious amounts of alcohol. At least then I spent my nights in a drunken haze with an occasional bout of vandalism. Now I am pitiful a pile of mush who is literally sleeping his life away. What should I do about my current predicament? I could go to bed a normal hour and find satisfaction in the beauty of life. The world has so much to offer like unemployment, child starvation, murder, teenage pregnancy, herpes infested whores and a myriad of other wonderful things. I need to get piss assed drunk, rip out a few urinals and pass out in my own vomit.

At least then I will be happy........well ok not happy but so intoxicated that I won't care.

And, if being drunk, fat and stupid doesn't work out and I can always go with the alternative and shoot up a local Taco Bell. By the way they did not have fucking Mild Sauce for the second time in the last month. How in the hell can you run out of mild sauce, or frankly any sauce at Taco Bell....... I understand that collective intellect of the employees is about as great as a retarded monkey but still running out of MILD SAUCE is completely unacceptable, even by their low standards. Adding insult to injury was there cardboard sign in the drive through window, not only did appear to have been scrawled by a dyslexic chicken, the word sauce was misspelled. I am not sure if they were trying to create an amalgamation of sauce and salsa, or if they were retarded.

For the record "sause" is not correct.

Go to Hell

My love affair continues Hamster and I have become inseparable. Other then urinating all over my comforter, everything has been peachy keen. And, to stave off anymore "funny" comments regarding our relationship let it be known that is very possible for a man and furry little creature to have a loving, platonic life together.

It occurred to me that I am a little bitch. The following perfectly illustrates that point.

A cute, slightly chubby, local beauty pageant contestant came into the store asking for donations. If I gave her twenty-five dollars, she would put an ad in the program. Said advertisement would contain a blown up business card and her picture. I thought about it for a moment, she smiled at me and of course I wrote a check. What really surprised me though was the fact that I used my own checking account rather then father's. How the mighty have fallen, at least in the past I used other peoples money when approached/extorted by pretty girls. My dad found the situation quite humorous but did seem a bit proud when I explained the part about using my personal checking account.

The moral of the story is I am a complete and utter fool who enjoys being used by ladies, be it financially, emotionally, mentally and on rare occasion physically.



Go to Hell

I have a new friend. His name is Hamster. I really enjoy playing with him.

Just wanted to share.

go to hell

Dear Middle America,

I once idolized you; in fact it was my dream to walk upon your golden paved roads. A world where riches were plentiful, work was meaningful; all the while life was surrounded by a white picket fence. I really believed in the American dream, and you know what? I am the butt of a colossal joke. The only thing at the end of the rainbow is a muddy puddle. It is on your backs that American culture is founded. You ultimately drive every market, be it commercial, social or other. That power has gone to your collective heads. Instead of innovation you settle for stagnation. You collect stuff, and more stuff until the house is full. And, then in your perverted wisdom, you buy a bigger house and fill it with even more useless stuff. It was once thought that you were the saviors of society, the cogs that drove capitalist machine, but in reality you are nothing but mindless lemmings that buy into everything and understand absolutely nothing. Money is the not of root of your evil, rather abject stupidity is the cause of your demise. The wealthy are greedy for more wealth, similarly the poor are as greedy for the wealth they do not have, but what about you? You are just as greedy as the wealthy, while equally as impoverished as the poor. You were supposed to embody the perfect American ideal, a life that allowed for modest luxury but tempered by a sense of fiscal restraint. The demagogues wonder why morality is a thing of yesteryear; well it is not hard to figure out. The modest live like tyrants, sitting upon their golden thrones demanding more all the while giving oh so little. You live well beyond your means and it shows in the children, a generation of spoiled brats who have the world at their fingers, who choose to spend their time emulating your meaningless decadence. Therefore this letter is my official resignation from the Middle American cause. I can't make it better, but I sure as well am not going to make it worse.


Go to hell

The wicked itch is dead. Turns out I had the mother of all yeast infections, which my entire body had a violent allergic reaction to. The cure may have been worse then symptoms. In order to diagnosis my condition the doctor had to stick his hand inside my anus.......I almost remarked that he should feel honored as he was the only the second person to have ever stuck an appendage in my rear, but decided against it. He then made out a prescription for a single pill. Said medication came in a small pink box that specifically stated it was used for vaginal discharges arising from yeast infections. So it seems my mother was right, I really am a giant pussy. Anyway, I feel much better now, even though my dad is probably going to kick me out within the next few days.... Battered women shelter here I come.




Go to hell

You are all whores to the man.


go to hell