CROCODILE TEARS!
Dang, how am I going to get this woman to move out of Stefanie's spot? I think I will have more luck if I will some of the hipsters down the end to go somewhere else. This one knucklehead keeps getting Vickery and Victory mixed up. Vickery Park is a bar on Henderson. Victory Park is a made-up destination downtown that contains that lame bar at the W, amongst others. Don't go there. Paris Hilton goes there, ya dig?
Say, mack, I gotta line on a crackerjack pony. I'm gonna amscray, but keep an eye on that dame in the corner. She's poison, see. A fella could get filled fulla lead hanging around a broad like that, see. So long, bub. Don't take any wooden nickels.
So the editing section of Monster is filled full of jobs that have nothing to do with editing. I think people are trying to trick me into about 57 different pyramid schemes. I can't click on a link that has more than one exclamation point in it or tells me I can work from home. They'll have me licking envelopes for Tom Cruise if I'm not careful. Looking for a job is so boring. I'm sick of doing it and sick of not making progress and sick of reporting nothing. I really have to figure out all the really technical crap on my computer. Some day. Stef's here. I better bail.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
I Know Where Hell Is. Grapevine, Texas.
I used to think Hell was Branson, Missouri, but now I know I was wrong.
Hell is much closer than you think. The Devil isn't pulling his greatest trick anymore.* He's advertising, with a catchy jingle and harmless cartoon animals. Wait, harmless cartoon animals? When was the last time you thought WOLVES were cute? Wolves aren't cute. They will eat your face off. Wolves will eat your friends so they can haunt you in increasing states of decay, give you rabies AND turn you into a werewolf. Those fuckers are smart.
And so is the Devil's advertising agency. Satan wants your children and he will get you to happily deliver them at no charge to him by means of an indoor water park and fake-timber bunkbeds in a reasonably priced hotel room. So go ahead and book Satan's Vacation at Great Wolf Lodge and offer your children to The Beast. Then you can go catch a farm-raised, mutant clone fish at Bass Pro and follow it up with a nice complimentary Mai Tai at The Glass Cactus because the souls of your fat, functionally illiterate spawn made such a juicy snack for God's Chief Frenemy that you're on the list and don't need a reservation.
For God's and your children's sake, take your kids camping for real in actual woods with animals that weren't drawn by an underpaid computer programmer in Taiwan. You do not need a climate-controlled water park, you need The Schlitterbahn. Your kids need to make the most kick-ass lanyards the Hill Country has ever seen, not become processed cheese food humanish space taker-uppers with in-room PS3. I will shrink wrap your face and keep you alive FOREVER LIKE A TWINKIE if I hear any of you ever went to this place, even on accident. Don't even stop there to ask directions on your way to Enchanted Rock. I am not kidding.
Listen, I know this is a little unlike me to advocate being outside when you all know I love concrete more than Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. But, dang, there's concrete, and then there's BUILDING A FAMILY FRIENDLY VACATION DESTINATION ON A FOUNDATION OF EVIL SHORED UP WITH REBAR FORGED IN SATAN'S METAL WORKS.
Frankly, I'm willing to get chiggers if it means I don't have to become Beelzebub's wife.
* Making you think he doesn't exist, duh. Jeez, watch The Usual Suspects again, you moron.
Hell is much closer than you think. The Devil isn't pulling his greatest trick anymore.* He's advertising, with a catchy jingle and harmless cartoon animals. Wait, harmless cartoon animals? When was the last time you thought WOLVES were cute? Wolves aren't cute. They will eat your face off. Wolves will eat your friends so they can haunt you in increasing states of decay, give you rabies AND turn you into a werewolf. Those fuckers are smart.
And so is the Devil's advertising agency. Satan wants your children and he will get you to happily deliver them at no charge to him by means of an indoor water park and fake-timber bunkbeds in a reasonably priced hotel room. So go ahead and book Satan's Vacation at Great Wolf Lodge and offer your children to The Beast. Then you can go catch a farm-raised, mutant clone fish at Bass Pro and follow it up with a nice complimentary Mai Tai at The Glass Cactus because the souls of your fat, functionally illiterate spawn made such a juicy snack for God's Chief Frenemy that you're on the list and don't need a reservation.
For God's and your children's sake, take your kids camping for real in actual woods with animals that weren't drawn by an underpaid computer programmer in Taiwan. You do not need a climate-controlled water park, you need The Schlitterbahn. Your kids need to make the most kick-ass lanyards the Hill Country has ever seen, not become processed cheese food humanish space taker-uppers with in-room PS3. I will shrink wrap your face and keep you alive FOREVER LIKE A TWINKIE if I hear any of you ever went to this place, even on accident. Don't even stop there to ask directions on your way to Enchanted Rock. I am not kidding.
Listen, I know this is a little unlike me to advocate being outside when you all know I love concrete more than Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. But, dang, there's concrete, and then there's BUILDING A FAMILY FRIENDLY VACATION DESTINATION ON A FOUNDATION OF EVIL SHORED UP WITH REBAR FORGED IN SATAN'S METAL WORKS.
Frankly, I'm willing to get chiggers if it means I don't have to become Beelzebub's wife.
* Making you think he doesn't exist, duh. Jeez, watch The Usual Suspects again, you moron.
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