Death and Hamloaf

My best friend's mom died on Sunday. He's a stoic dude, but this has hit him hard. He's not used to emotional situations or dealing with emotional people. Right now he's the adult who has to comfort his father and his wife and keep his kids entertained or quiet. As for me, I don't handle death and funerals very well. I fully expect to be a blubbering fool come Thursday, but I will try not to be more upset than the relatives.

My buddy's mom was a pretty cool lady. We used to driver he car around in high school. We called it the duct tape mommy mobile. I'm sure she had her reservations about me in high school. I wasn't a sporto and I had long hair and a big coat. I wore an earring to the house once and the parents were just sure I was a commie. Yet they never really cracked on me like some other people's parents.

I dropped off a coffee cake yesterday because here in the Midwest, bringing food over to the house of the bereaved is what we do. It's what makes us Iowans. We don't express emotion well, but we can bake bread, hams and casseroles like crazy. I think Wednesday I will bake a hamloaf or a cheeseburger pie to take over.

When my grandfather died, my uncle Kenny and I split a hamloaf. It ... was ... awesome! A hamloaf is basically a meatloaf made with ground ham and pork. It tastes like heaven and makes your grief go bye-bye. A cheeseburger pie is a basically ground hamburger with onions and chili sauce baked in a pie shell covered with cheese and maybe pickles. That also rocks.

I hate funerals but I acknowledge that there is a responsibility here that I will do my best to fulfill to my friend and his father.

Fucking Finns, man

Why is it every time someone from Finland comes to my blog it's just to see if they can find naked pictures of Nick Stahl or Nick Stahl with animal ... naked or great works of art... with Nick Stahl standing by them naked. I don't have any pictures of Nick Stahl naked. I don't even have the words "Nick" and "Stahl" in any of the posts I've written. Any why Nick Stahl? He's nice enough, I suppose, but he's no Ricky Martin.

Counting Filthy Lucre

I'm currently working on a project with a hacker of my acquaintence. Not on hacking itself, mind you, just some cool ways to make some filthy lucre using a combo of his computing skills and my writing/pr knowledge. The Internet seems like this huge place where a man can get rich (Lord knows some do) but mostly it is a big waste of time. How many people running eBay stores are even self-sufficient let alone rich? An idea will strike like lightning one day and then me old mate and me will be stinkin'... rich that is.

The freelancer takes a wife ... sucker!

I needs to pump up my freelance writing career. All the freelaners I know ... and I do mean ALL ... have a wife or husband with a full-time gig to support their asses through the down periods. I'll be God-damned if I get a wife any time soon even though the prospect of having someone around who would be supportive enough (or stupid enough) to allow me to have an uneven income while they punch a clock, bring home the bacon AND the insurance is pretty sweet.

I figure so long as I make enough to keep me mobile, not starving and in meds, I'll be OK. Of course, what I'd really like to be when I grow up is a pimp. With gold teeth and a whole stable full of bitches. Either that or a coke mule.

Lazy Blogger

Got criticized for not blogging regularly. Problem was my mother got on here and became all concerned about my strong desire to kill myself. I can't say as I blame her. It would be a drag for her if I were at all likely to succeed in that endeavor. But considering the isolation we all live in today with no meaningful social safety net or clan life, bodies should be dropping from the sky. You don't see a lot of tribal people killing themselves; there are too many alternatives.

I just don't understand how most modern people don't want to shoot themselves in the face on a daily basis. I can't be the only one, can I? Life's a piece of shit. It's grueling most of the time and when it's not grueling it's fuckin' boring, demeaning, degrading and just plain bloody awful.

The poet Ann Sexton was so afraid of dying that she killed herself. Some people think that's an odd way to express one's fear of dying, but I get it. It's the anticipation that drives so many people crazy. By getting it over with quick, they relieve that stress.

Chuck Pahlaniuk said it best when he said, "Everyone you love will eventually die or betray you." Frankly, the same goes for yourself. I learned to betray myself at a very early age and I haven't been able to stop. I'm one of those guys who can make an amazing catch or sing like a bird ... so long as no one is watching me and I'm not thinking about it at all. Writing is about all I've ever had that came naturally. But I'm going to say what I want whenever I want because if I can't do that, that just makes life even worse.

Lazy Sunday

Check out this SNL digital video, Lazy Sunday here.

I've watched this about 15 times. Now I'm gonna go mack on some cupcakes.

America Über Alles

Americans love fascism like a baby loves its mama. We talk a lot about freedom and democracy, but in our everyday lives brutal idiocy pretty much rules the day. American life is conformist, dictatorial, stupid and proud of it. We are lazy minded, hateful fucks. Kill first and ask questions later ... IF Jerry Bruckheimer makes a movie of the week about it. He won't.

I've seen one workplace after another where any kind of education is despised by the ignorant assholes who managed to get just slightly ahead of the curve by not going to college and just work their way up from the bottom to just above the bottom. This includes newspapers where SOMEBODY in charge should have gone to college at some point. But then education interferes with one's ability to not question authority.

American fascism is all about pride of ignorance, baby. We've got it in spades.

Weekend at Greggie's

The sensuousness was overwhelming
as I stood in a cesspit of my own bodily
secretions pondering.

The peculiar thing is that I didn't want to move.

I just wanted to stay there all the time ... pondering.