Do yourself a Favor

"Like instead of wanting to be more frugal with my water usage or curb my carbon emissions, I rather was filled with a desire to cut down a tree, shove it up an endangered panda’s ass, strap the panda to the hood of a Hummer and drive to an Arby’s parking lot to give away free nuclear bombs to obese children."

This is just a little shard of brilliance that you could be ingesting if you were to check out my friend Mark's blog.

Your welcome, you low life's. You're stupid and illegit for not having found it yourself.

Threesomes intrigue me

What percentage of people out there have had a threesome (over the age of twenty-one)? And what happens afterwards? Do you kiss both people in the morning? Is it okay to start up again in the morning in the same bed as the other "sleeping" partner?

i think a three-way shower would be the shit. i also think a three-way haircut would be awesome. Would a three-way break up be a third worse than a regular break up?

(Me breaking up with my two girlfriends)

Anthony: Hey Cindy, could you tell Amanda that I don't love her anymore and I think we should never talk again, then listen to what she has to say right after that because she has some important information about the fact that I no longer want to ever talk to you again and I've fallen out of love.

Cindy: Wait, explain that again.

Anthony: Okay (sigh) once upon a time I used to love two girls named Cindy and Amanda at the same time. They funded me when I was broke, they gave me rides to work and brought home gifts on Sundays to make my Stormy Mondays better.

Cindy: And by They, you mean us?

Anthony: See! This is exactly it! Not everything is so black and white! Sometimes you have to except that things live in the gray!

Cindy: You're late for work. And I know I said I would, but I'm not taking you today because you are being a jerk!

Anthony: Right! Right! Just bail out again! Bail on everything that has ever meant anything to you in this world! You know what Cindy! You spread yourself to thin. That's your problem!

Cindy: What do you mean by that? I don't even think you know what expression really means.

Anthony: See?! You want everything wrapped up in your perfect little package so that it doesn't stress your little brain. Well I'm through wrapping gifts! Christmas came late, and I'm scared Cindy! God I'm Scared and hungry...cold, tired, I'm so exhausted from the stress of this concrete jungle...

Cindy: Bye bye, dude. You suck. And who's Amanda?

Anthony: See?!

(she slams the door in my face and regrets ever having met me)

It's all real.

Dreamy Dreams

I had a dream last night that I roundhouse kicked a cigarette out of my friend Kevin Barret's mouth. We were at a bar and he was wasted and starting trouble with some troublemakers who outnumbered us big time. Then when I kicked his lit cigarette, everyone was distracted and it diffused the whole conflict.

Not very noteworthy, i know, BUT then I had this other dream which seemed to be hours later with my family in a run-down mansion where we were eating in a "nonbroken" home, I referred back to that other dream and told the roundhouse story. My happy unified family just laughed and laughed.

I wonder if that means my mom and dad are going to get back together after 24 years of divorce and barely speaking to each other? Also my dad started smoking again after 10 years or so. So that's another weird thing.

"These dreams protect me from the cold outside,
Every moment of the night,
I live another life."

Who sang that song? Anyone? I'm seriously asking, I don't remember.

Why is it that the older women get, the more their perfume smells like the inside of a funeral home? Flowers included....

There is this old lady here at work that always wears sunglasses inside and dies her hair a very unnatural jet black, AND her perfume smells stale and expired. She really cakes it on too, so it is kind of an unavoidable thought when I am in close quarters with her. I wish her all the best because she's a very nice lady, but holy Groucho Marx! Give me a reason to believe!

Fashion and Reality

I'm not saying that I am the ultimate example of modesty or anything, but I just had this thought:

I've found my attention and efforts towards fashion and appearance dwindling in the past five years significantly. The closer I get to the age of thirty, I've thought about this and I've never been able to put it into words, but I think I'm close.

When I see someone that is heavily coated in whatever "boldest/latest" clothing that that given demographic leans towards, I always expect more from them. Because if they are just a bland person with eye for Polo sport coats in the summer, elbow piercings, tight neon green jeans, or a loose fitting Ocean Pacific tank top, I have to say that that person only has downward to go when meeting new people. Not that I think I am in the position to judge people's clothing (But I am), but I've found that if you dress modestly and honestly, you only have up to go as far as your personality. Plus, the first funny thing you do in front of strangers is always doubly funny, because they say "Oh my god, you seemed so reserved and straight laced". That's when you blindside them with the abortion jokes.

stand up to your feces and the Government

It doesn't surprise me that toilet paper is white. You know why? I'll tell you....It's just another way for the Government to keep your flourishing minds in check. What better way to suck the confidence out of it's headstrong, forward-thinking, romantic, tough-loving, spiritually wealthy citizens than to force them to see their shit on a virginally white piece of toilet paper?

When I buy clothes, I think about what color I'm buying and what a mess is going to look like on it. When people buy cars they think about the same thing. Is white going to cause me to go to the car wash every other day? Yes. So we choose dark so that stains and dirt and the like will not show up every time we make a mistake. Why then, when toilet paper is made very specifically to encounter the worst of all messes daily, is it white? The color of God, Marriage, the "light" people calmly drift towards when life is expiring, christmas snow, Snow White, printing paper, cocaine, and last but not least, traditional American socks! I know you're thinking, "Anthony, you silly goose, it's made out cotton. Cotton's white." Well, dear friend, you are correct. Cotton is white, but we seem to be able to dye it when ever we need to: shirts, slacks, trousers, long shorts....etc.

See? They could make T.P. brown or maroon or black or something. On white, we as humans are guilty of looking every time. You'd be weird if you didn't. And sometimes you have to look every time, because your B.H. seems to be defying the laws of lessening feces. Meaning, the mess gets bigger every time you wipe. It is on those HUMAN occasions that we get a bit depressed with every snapshot of accumulating poo (and the image sticks with us, whether we admit it or not), and leave the bathroom at work, the bookstore, the library, the magazine hut, etc. feeling like we should just take some time alone and let our bodies settle down before we go try to have a conversation, get a pop, or touch a lover. We are paranoid that everyone is going to know that we just got done having a panic attack while staring at all the inexplicable poop happening inside our beautiful bodies.

There should be no recovery period people! Get back to work! The world needs you! Don't let the cotton tycoons/governmental minions have their way with your conscience. Bring your own T.P. or color each slice brown bef0re you use it. Walk out of the bathroom with a sense of relief, rather relentless depression.

Also, is it weird to read a newspaper that someone has left in the stall? That was my real question. Sorry it took me so long to get out.

COMCAST, you know what I'm gonna do to you?

First I'm gonna buy some steaks and throw them on the grill and invite you over for a romantic style cookout on my 35th floor candle lit deck. I'm gonna stare you down sensually while I poke them and flip them in the grill. I will blow slow kisses right at your face and hair, I'm gonna talk to you softly and rub your WHOLE body, not just the fun parts like some amateur. Shoulder rub, forehead kissing, back stroking, then on to what surely is going to be the sweetest love making you have ever been exposed to. Then I stand you up and stare in your eyes. "Brace yourself Comcast, cause I'm gonna rock your knees."

Then I push you off the balcony and eat my steak.

night night