You love me, whether you know it or not.

I just want to let all of you reading (2 people tops, hey guys) that you love me. You may not know me, you may have misclicked in a list of crappy blogs and were redirected here (ha! my advertising strategy worked!), or you may have heard of my site from 1 of my 2 readers. If it was the latter, bigups (Jamaican patois for "*props")to whoever directed you here!

One day I hope to be hugely popular in Japan and unknown everywhere else, except to Japanophiles (hentai anyone?). But, until then, I'll have to settle for the love of my Internet fanbase.

If you happen to stumble upon my blog, and don't ALT+F4 faster than when your boss walks into the office during a NFSW moment, please post a comment to let me know you're reading this.


Oh yeah, I love you too by the way. Unless you're a minority or white, in that case, go fuck yourself.

*Attention white people - "props" as they are known, is an urban slang term for kudos, or three cheers, or whatever it is you people say. Cameron help me out on this one...cracker.

Damn I love my self.

Is it wrong to love yourself? The Bible says no. In fact, it's wrong to not love yourself.

I'm not talking about physical love, but a more spiritual love. Although physical self-love is awesome too (you know what I'm talking about......you know....). Anyway, I'm speaking of the love I feel for everything about myself. The way I smell (manly), the way I sound (clownish?), the way I feel (hairy), and the way I look. Everyone should feel this way, about me or themselves, whichever.

The point of all this ego flagellation is: THE NEW FANTASTIC SPARKLE POWER LUCKY MISO FATAL'S HOUSE PODCAST!!!!! Oh my fucking goodness! Are you psyched? You will get to hear my voice spout my insane, self love propaganda on your iPod, iRiver, iThingy, or crappy generic mp3 player.

All I need to complete my plan for the beginning of the end is an iPod, a microphone, and some cables and crap. So, if you have some disposable income and bad judgement, buy me the items I mentioned (and batteries if needed) and mail them to me. No I will not give you my address, but if you buy a P.O. box in my town and hide the key in some bushes by the gas station, I will be able to receive your package (I said "receive your package," I crack myself up).

Oh yeah, more dictionary terms to come...

Fatal's Urban Dictionary

I'm sure at some point I will become hugely famous. Either for inventing some brilliant device or for committing some horrendous crime against nature (think "bacon cats"). Anyway, once I become famous, the average human will have no comprehension of my strange dialect of English. So, below I've listed some common words and phrases I use along with their definitions. Enjoy!

Asshat: (ăs-hăt)
n. 1. A human being one considers of lower intelligence than him or herself.
2. A jerk, or tool.

Douche Bag/Bottle/Nozzle: (dūsh) (băg)/(bŏt'l)/(nŏz'əl)
n. 1. An instrument for applying a douche.
2. A jerk, tool, or asshat.

Imbetard: (ĭm'bə-tärd')
n. 1. A person that displays a complete lack of intelligence.
2. The result of breeding between an imbecile and a retard.

Functional Retard: (fŭngk'shə-nəl rĭ-tärd')
n. 1. A person that is so dumb, that you question whether they may have ingested lead based paint chips as a child.
2. An individual so stupid, it appears that they may actually be retarded. They are often jovial and glossy eyed.
3. Forrest Gump.
*note - Be careful not to mistake an actual retard for a functional one. Hilarity will ensue, but retard strength is legendary.

Retard: (rĭ-tärd')
n. 1. An actually mentally handicapped person.
*note - Making fun of retards is generally not cool, and can give you bad karma. Making fun of retards is only acceptable if they do something hilarious and their handler is out of earshot.

The boredom is hurting me.

Here is something interesting I just noticed. You never realize exactly how bored you are until you can compare what you are doing to what you usually do when you are bored.

Case in point, I'm currently sitting in day 3 of my awesome SQL Server Reporting Services training and I happen to be bored beyond belief. "How bored are you," you ask. I am so damn bored that I am currently enjoying reading the text play by play of a baseball game. I HATE baseball even when it's on tv, imagine how bored I must be to actually find pleasure in this text play by play.

Granted, it is the playoffs, and I do have "money" riding on the outcome of this series (sports betting is illegal in California, but "money" doesn't necessarily mean US currency), but it's fucking baseball for Pete's sake (not Pete Rose's sake).

Whatever, you get the picture. If you don't, then you're probably coloring your monitor with oversized Crayolas right now. Yay!

This training sucks.

I'm stuck in training at work from 2pm to 8pm every night for the next 2 weeks and I've come to realize that I can, in fact, read. Now you may say to yourself : "Why of course you can read Fatal, you must be able to because you can write this fabulous blog!" If you did say this to yourself I would ask you how your life-partner is doing, because the only people that use the word "fabulous" are gay.

Oh yeah, back to the topic at hand. I say that I can read because apparently our training is comprised solely of listening to the "trainer" and following the idiot proof exercises in the manual. I could do this crap myself from the comfort of a barca lounger in my own home. Two problems with this thought: one, I don't have a barca lounger; two, I wouldn't do this shit if there was a Colt .45 aimed at my head. The beer, not the gun. If there was a gun aimed at me I would probably pee myself and whimper, that's just how I roll.

Blogs aren't for idiots.

I apologize for my last post. I don't know what I was thinking. Blogs are not for idiots...they are for self absorbed assholes.

People with blogs fall into two categories. First, people with genuine expertise on a subject or a fresh insight into something that they wish to share with others. Second, narcissistic douche bags/bottles/nozzles that love to hear the sound of their own typing. I, of course, fall into the latter category. I have now found that the satisfaction I get from seeing my printed thoughts online is rivaled only by the satisfaction I receive when I wear my lady out in bed. Blogging is way easier. I would say it's also faster, but I don't have the nickname "The Flash" for nothing.

Plus I am trying to improve my writing so that when I have kids people don't mistake them for hailing from the Ozarks/Adirondacks/West Virginia due to their use of words such as: "yep," "y'all," and "scooterpie."

Blogs are for idiots.

Blogs are lame. They're just a place for opinionated asshats to spout off their liberal/conservative/vegetarian propaganda. Everyone who has a blog is an imbetard. Notice I am not qualifying that previous statement. I too, am an imbetard. If you are reading this without knowing anything about me, you too are an imbetard. Welcome to the club.

Stay tuned for further rants...