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| WRITING, SCHMYTING |  | Category: Rant
Monday, January 21st, 2002 @ 02:34 pm
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Writing comes more naturally when wearing yellow pants.
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I've been seeing really good examples of good writting recently, and its gotten me thinking: I'm not a very good writer. At all. Period. Its kind of humbling to see people weave words together to make the most fucked up analogies and imagery, but when I get my go at it on this site, its like my fingers just start farting out words as my brain comes up with them.
Now don't take my self-bashing too deeply. I think I hold my own when it comes to linking coherent sentences together to make an understable story; its just that I lack the wit I see in others, and that's where my shame lies. I read people craft their words in such a way it creates a mental image, that not only perfectly describes what they are talking about, but also makes you laugh so hard that that you buckle up in rip-roaring laughter, quivering, with liquid funny running out of several orifaces.
I've been wondering if its because I just don't have it, which I am totally willing to accept, or if its just because I don't spend enough time thinking about what I'm writing, and how to make it more clear/funny/ironic/etc.
While reading the Carrot Cake Soup story on Penny Arcade, which in my opinion is one damnned fine example of comedic writing, I had a sort of epiphany. Good writing doesn't have much to do with creative writing classes (I know, I've taken them in college), or being born with it. It means viewing what you write as being no different than telling a story to your friends, and trying to relay it in a way that will illicit a desirable response. I guess most people (me included) sit down to write something and approach it as if its a completely seperate entity than any other brand of expression (namely conversation), and end up producing something that is rather contrived sounding.
Now I'm not the one of wittiest guys on the planet, but I'd like to think I can point out a little o' the funny when I see it, and maybe even craft my own on certain occations. It just seems that when ever I endevour to place a nugget of funny in the written word, it comes out feeling kind of forced.
Anyway, this is not an attempt to receive pity, nor is it a pledge to write better. Its just a thought that's been bouncing around in my head for some time and I wanted to see if anyone else had any ideas about good writting.
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| FUCKIN' FAGGOT ASS DRINKIN' DEVICES... | | Category: Rant
Sunday, December 23rd, 2001 @ 04:40 pm
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 o.k. you buncha' chucklie chucks time to pay the mother f'n piper. not really, i just wanted to start out sounding tuff 'cuz i found this drink that i thought ian might just have to have('cuz he likes girls stuff...and by stuff i don't mean their candy hearts and hot wet 'giners!) it's a juice drink with kind of a seaman soaked name. BELLYWASHERS! what's wierd about these flavorfull mouthfulls of piss and berries is that they taste like piss and berries. which if you ask me is umm...wierd. i think that that is about all i have to say about the fruity juice...so go to the web site and play some fuckin'games, research your urge to get sexy in a salty ski mask and spandex sort of way and maybe just maybe all of the garbled letters and numbers i just posted will make your day.
in the same only different news i'm sorry about the lack of any thing insightfull in this post but the plea for new writers fired me into a posting frenzy!! the thing that pissed me off was that i didn't even recieve an email from 6litch asking if i was all right. i mean the monkey lover sent me emails asking if i was all right after i posted, but never when i hadn't posted. for all he knew i could have been dead and he would have replaced me with some suck jaws talkin' about his fuggin' barbie doll collection. which is kind of a good idea...if you ask me.
WELL I'M FINE...thank you for asking.
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| MAGIC, ITS WHATS FOR BREFAST (TIME FOR SOME CHEESE) | | Category: Rant
Tuesday, December 18th, 2001 @ 02:24 am
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 Magic. I got into a conversation with a friend the other day about it. He has kids and is extremely worried about the fact that every time they bring up magic, he debunks it; yet when it come to questions like "how does Santa Claus fit down the chimney?" his answer is always magic. I suppose its really not important seeing as they won't be buying that line of crap forever. You gotta grow up someday...
Which brings me to my point. Believe it or not, there are a lot of people who believe in magic. Actually, the result of an indepent poll show that 80% of blacks believe white people put "black only" sterilization chemicals in the water supply, but that's a different story. There are people who believe in magic, there are people who believe in angels, and there are people who believe in the motherfucking Lock Ness monster. This is the twenty-first century, yet we still have people who believe this mindless bullshit.
I have a friend, the same one I spoke of earlier, who thinks that popular culture is dragging us into another dark age due to our sudden reluctance to accept science. Now, science may have meandered from its core roots, but all in all its a dicipline that allows one to only accept something as fact if it can be proven through a logical process. Many a person believes in acupuncture, auras, yoga, meditation, etc... yet all of it is unproven. Of course, all of these people will say its drug companies and 'Big Brother' don't even want to give it the time of day. Bullshit. They've tested it all. They would rather believe that these people are hiding the facts about it all; but the clear truth is, these entities are driven by money. If they could market a super-duper pain killing acupuncture needle, they would, in a New York minute; whatever that means. But they can't because sticking a needle in your skin does NOTHING but make a really small hole.
I'm tired of it all. I wish it all would stop.
In other news, I snagged the Cowboy Bebop movie off Morpheus and burned it to VCD (although its in Jappy with subtitles), so I'm waiting for a friend to drop by with some whiskey so we can make a night out of it.
And in even other-er news, I need some more fucking writers. The ones I have now are slackers, and my girlfriend refuses to post for me. So, I don't care who you are, even if you just stumbled upon this site by searching for vulva pump on google, drop me a line and join an alcoholic from New Orleans in his quest to add more drivel to the ol' WWW. That is all.
BUTTS
  
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| LAZARUS -- NOT YOUR AVERAGE ZOMBIE | | Category: Rant
Wednesday, June 27th, 2001 @ 12:02 am
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 So, I finally got all the computer shiznit back in order, everything's showin' and flowin'. I absentmindedly had sex in front of the camera tonight, so if you were a' watching, congrats on the free show.
So, did you know that Marylin Manson was a red-headed female porn model? I did.
Anyways, I feel like dying. My parental units tossed me their treadmill and I've been running for 15 minutes everyday. Christ, if it weren't for all that shit about early man fighting for survival and shit, I'd totally be of the opinion that we were meant to sit on the couch and drink whiskey all day (seeming as that's my normal daily ritual [fortunately that lasts longer than 15 minutes]). So, I've been running regularly and now my legs feel like shit and my body is having an internal battle over which it likes more: being healthy, or smoking a pack and a half a day. I'm guessing that's gonna be one of those 'Hundred-Years Wars' seeming as I don't plan (read: want) to be giving up either anytime in the near future.
I suppose if I keep it up long enough, my body will come to some even-ground, so I'll just grin and bear it.
But I digress from my pointless blathering...
I don't have a subscription or anything, but somehow where ever I move, I keep getting Maxim in the mail. Anywho, they have an article in it this month about 'Project Ginger', or more affectionately nicknamed, 'It'. Guess what, its a fucking scooter. I fucking swear, I will kill the creator of the 'next big thing' that comes along; I will mold the big shit cloud of hype people have created around it and shove it up all their collective asses, sideways if it has a sort of oblong shape to it. I mean COME ON! Its the fucking year 2000(+1), I'm not asking for a flying car, just gimme something worthy of a fraction of the fucking hype Ron Popeil has generated about one of his shitty shit shits.
Ok, I've been reduced to using three derivations of the same obscenity with out any words in between, so enough ranting; here's some asses:
B-B-Butt! -~-
B-B-Butt! -~-
B-B-Butt! -~-
B-B-Butt! -~-
B-B-Butt!
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