Confessions of a Justified Sinner

I know that it has been a while since this sinner has spoken to the masses, but I am still alive and sinning, I assure you. The writers strike has had me down as all of Hollywood seemed to be on an extended break from our relationship, bastards. In response, we have created a short film in response to the studios refusing to budge. This is a satirical video that is in the vein of Elia Gonzalez. With out further ado...I fucking hate that phrase...here is the video.

The fact is that Californians are quite possibly the most rude fuckers on the planet. While I am at work only 1 person in 20 or thirty says hello to me, and even less than that say please or thank you. Not only this true believer (even though that should be enough for any right thinking person to take up arms against a sea of troubles) many of the children who are there with their parents answers questions such as "would you like whip cream on that?" with a ,"yeah," and they won't even meet your eyes.
When I was a child, if I had shown such contempt for my fellow man and the Queen's English, I would have been whupped within an inch of my tiny little life. But the parents in Los Angeles seem to foster this sort of treatment of the working class by being not much better themselves and even rewarding their children by giving them diabetes, or as it is called at Starbucks' a "Venti mocha-caramel frap with extra whip cream and caramel on top double blended and a shot of espresso."
I fucking hate these people and it is no wonder to me that the rest of the world hates the United States. There may be, in the Mid-west, a group of normal, polite and respectful people who simply want to live and let live and not ruffle feathers, but in California, which is what the world sees via TV and the Movies and those goddamned gossip magazines, we are a race of heathens that care not one whit for our fellow man, only that we are served with everything that we want, no matter how trivial such a desire my be.
And yes ladies and gentlemen, that was a run on sentence with ample comma splices to boot.

Thank You Les, You are an inspiration.

The Earth it did crack open
on the day that I was born
and a thousand merry pranksters
came dancin' through the storm.

I lay cradle bound
a howlin' out my mind
not knowin' years to come
I'd be shoutin' over din

I sucked information through the holes in my skull
as my belly gurgles hungry my mouth is always full.

I am Antipop; I'll run against the grain till the day I drop.
I am the Antipop; the man you cannot stop.

As a young man,
I plug into the tube,
but the stench of all that pretense
I cannot muddle through.

I lay on my back
and scan the radio
all that comes out my speakers
is a steady syrup flow.

I suck information through the holes in my skull
as my belly gurgles hungry my mouth is always full.

I stood by watching
and I seen 'em come and go.
I seen 'em make that million
then vanish in the snow.

They come upon you
like a pack of rabid hounds
as they slobber in your ears
and purge you with their sounds.

Pushing misinformation through the holes in my skull
my belly gurgles nauseous and still my mouth is full.

I am Antipop; I'll run against the grain till the day I drop.
I am the Antipop; the man you cannot stop.

I'm sorry to let you all down, but I am madly in love with my wife and as such will not betray her for all of Solomon's gold. Let me Talk about Valentines though. First of all I am now working two jobs, which sucks, and my wife is working two jobs and goes to school and that also sucks. We only have one car between the two of us and that makes it hard. But enough of that nonsense. Tonight my wonderful thoughtful wife bought for me the first season of Saturday Night Live on DVD as a gift and it is wonderful. I made a great dinner, from a recipe that I made up, and we had many glasses of wine and adult themes were played out, but remember the Al Green song "Behind Closed Doors," I will tell you nothing of that. I bought my wife the book by my Sedaris, "I like You, Hospitality under the Influence." This book is brilliant. It was written for people like me and my wife who like their friends and like to have them over, but like their chemicals a little bit more. Everyone should check it out. I don't really have a point so I will leave you all with a poem I wrote earlier tonight:

I'm Drunk and
I have too much Gas,
Simon and Garfunkel
Kick a lotta Ass.

Peace.

It's almost 2:00 in the AM and I am still up. Why in hell can I not just go to bed? I came home from work, all worn out and exhausted, decided not to watch a movie with Tank and the Atheist, on the grounds that I am too tired, and I stay up, Fucking around with run on sentences and the computer. I know full well that I am going to wake up at 6:00 with my beautiful wife and kiss her goodbye, sleep for maybe 2 more hours and then get too bored and see what else is happening. It's almost as if I am afraid to sleep. Afraid of what I will miss. And so, instead of going to bed I am going to pour myself another bourbon and read some more of Teddy Roosevelt's Biography.

There is some good news. Next Tuesday, at 9:00pm, I have an appointment to go to NBC studios and meet with Mr. Fritz Coleman. This man has offered to help me with my career and introduce me to others in the business (isn't it funny that actors call movies "the business," it's kinda like it's prostitution) and see if he can give me guidance for my next step.

Some time I think that Don Quixote had it easy, he only tilted at windmills, I tilt at the whole world.

My spelling is bad...I know. But in an act of desperation tonight, after drinking a bottle of bourbon, I mixed some left over baked beans with some left over KFC gravy and ate it cold. Truly this was horrible, but I think this is the current equivalent to human suffering that I can truly acchieve. The fact of the matter is I don't really care about anybody or anything. I may just embrace nihlism as a credo and say fuck you to the world. That is all.............. !

I have a dilemma. First of all I swore that I would not use this blog as a forum to bitch or whine about my life in anyway. However, a situation has arisen that I can speak to no one about. I have made the observation that in my life I seem to like the hunt. Hunting for something else searching for a new experience, trying to constantly expand and expound upon myself and my life before I need to repent. I did however think I was an adult and beyond some of the fruitless struggles and useless quests that make up youth. Unfortunately this is not the case. I found myself involved in a new challenge...a new hunt, only this time the quarry is something that belongs to someone else. I find myself with desires and yearnings for that which is not mine, and if I am a good man, will never be mine. But I am a creature of habit and therefore I find myself pursuing this thing completely heedless of the consequences, I only hope I can stop my self when we get to end game, or there will be a lot of people hurt...myself included.