My Mom thinks I swear too much.

My Mom checked out the blog and this is what she had to say (spelling errors left in to show my superior typing skills):

Why are there so many curse words on your site. Yhat's [sic] a VERY poor reflection on your upbringing. Do you know that people can get into yopur [sic] blog and see it. Is that a true reflection of who you are??? Clean up your act man, and find cleaner words to use. Get rid of the F word!!!!

If you think I use the F word a lot you should hear the king of all F-bombs...my Dad. I learned to swear from the best of them, and that's something I use to effect to accentuate my posts. I don't swear a lot in real life (shut the fuck up evolved)...unless I'm angry. Anyway, my parents taught me many things, mom taught me how to ride a bike, dad taught me not to hit women (way to tie my hands with that one Dad!), they both taught me many things that I thank them both for. The only reason I'm not staying down at home to catch the concert with evolved is because spending time with my Dad is one of my highest priorities in life (maybe if you stopped smoking and I didn't expect you to die at any moment, I could lower the alert level to mustard or chartreuse).

All in all, don't be so sensitive Mom.

P.S. - she told me I should use my blog to talk about Jesus. If you don't know who Jesus is and what he did then you are an R-tard. Go to biblegateway.com and look up John chapter 3, verse 16. Jesus is good stuff, I recommend Him and God to everyone. There's my preaching for the day.

*Note - I capitalize "Mom" and "Dad" because I use them as their distinct title, like Doctor. Although my Dad is technically a doctor, I do not refer to him as such because I would then be a pretentious asshat.

Fuck Oprah

What the fuck is up with Oprah? Doesn't she have enough damn money yet? Everywhere I turn I see her evil smiling face. You might say to yourself "Fatal why do you think Oprah is evil? I think she's great." You, my friend, are a vagina. Oprah is the many headed beast that spawned the vile and odious creations Dr. Phil and Rachel Ray (she that shall not be named).

Bringing into power either of these abominations is a transgression great enough to warrant banishment to "The Pit," but The Dragon Winfrey did not stop with her first hellspawn, the shine head demon. She continued to promote her minion and spread her propaganda, and then she unleashed a banshee so shrill and annoying the mere sound of its voice flays the skin from a man's body.

The demon RR has monopolized more time on the Food Network than any other chef. More than even the Holy Grill Warrior, Bobby Flay. Her domination of basic cable culinary programming complete, the beast expanded her power base to day time talk. Thank the heavens you work during the day friend, for you escape the horror that awaits those who remain at home. The piercing shrieks that from her porcine countenance raise the hackles of dogs and man alike. The unintelligible gibberish is like the banter of a thousand child-demons.

Join me, and the crusade to destroy the true Axis of Evil, the triumvirate of those unholiest of beings from the glowing box, Oprah, Dr. Phil and Rachel Ray....*shudder*

Your tv viewing soul could be next.

I'm fucking pissed.

This past weekend was supposed to be great. I was going to hang out with my fiance, go to a festival if the weather was nice, and if it rained I had invites to attend a few birthday parties.

Friday rolls around and my boss tells us all to go home early. Great! I'll get the weekend kicked off early. On the way home I decide to stop by my old work and say hi to the guys I haven't seen in well over a year. I see a few of them, exchange my number, and go into the office to see the boss man. The funniest shit happened. Apparently, my boss, we'll call him "Duh" got stung by a bee while riding his mountain bike. Well the bee was raping his upper lip while he was on some downhill trail, so Duh couldn't defend himself. His upper lip swelled to the size of a duck bill. I wish I had a digital camera, because his platypus face looked priceless. I tooled on their computers a little for them and they told me they were in need of a surveillance system and asked if I would write up a proposal for them. Fan-fucking-tastic! A quick bit o change in my pocket for a days work makes the weekend look even brighter. I get home and immediately get a wicked headache. This headache, it would turn out, would be my omen of things to come. By the time 8 rolled around I was sweating like a Republican Congressman watching a high school boy's wrestling match. I had a fever well over 100.

Fucking awesome, scratch the plans with the lady. The next day, my forehead is Africa hot and I feel like hammered shit so no concert. I manage to get my ass off the couch for one of the birthday parties and have as good a time as possible with a 101 degree temp, a marching band in my skull, and a self imposed 1 beer limit (a real "1", not the 1 cup thing I invented). The next day I feel shitty so I decide to give (sell) my ticket to a friend of a friend. I can't even find my fucking tickets. Now I'm out $70 for a concert I can't even go to if I feel better.

I end up consoling myself by saying that I'll catch the band I want to see most (30 Seconds to Mars) when they come to LA. I look up their tour schedule and lo and behold, they have 3 dates in CA. Sweet....but wait, their first stop in San Fran is 2 days before I go up there, that's out. Their San Diego and LA stops are when I'm in San Fran, wtf?!? Apparently all those jokes I made about retards/gays/republicans/blacks/whites/yellows/etc have come back to bite me in the ass.

To all you optimists who say "every cloud has a silver lining." Go fuck yourselves. That silver lining is toxic fucking mercury.