Archive for August, 2016

September Song Without Twitter

August 30th, 2016

Twitter is so horrible. I’m on it nearly every day. I keep locking into it like a sick fuck who can’t stop slapping himself with a carp. “Why are you hitting yourself with a carp, self? Why, huh? Why are you hitting yourself with a carp?” Like I’m bullying myself. What a creep, me.


I am sick of Twitter interactions. I get it, the dumb and the mean cross-pollinate and make a toxic nectar. And it’s always strangers. Between the people I follow and my followers, I get along just fine. It’s those who butt in on something I didn’t intend for them that make it disgusting. Fuck them. They can take a piss bath. What a total corrosive atmosphere. And here I am letting it corrode me. Oh god. I can’t help it. It’s desensitizing. I fight dumb meanness with smart meanness but it is still mean in the end. What’s the difference when you end up hurting someone’s feelings, even if they are dumb assholes who deserve to suffer a painful death.


I’m thinking about taking September off from Twitter. Not the whole Internet. Just dumb shit Twitter. I only lurk on reddit. The only chan I post on is /wooo and only because I enjoy talking about pro wrestling. Life is stupid and awful and why should we treat each other like jerks in this life when there are so many other deserving targets?


I don’t know if I can go a whole month without checking Twitter. I am bored shitless in life with or without it. Life sucks. It always has and will. My god. Maybe I will be more productive and in a better mood without the damn thing. Just thirty days. I can do this. I can’t do this. I can do this. Life is a corrosive shitpile. It’s battery acid flowing through your veins.

My Depression Is Strong

August 28th, 2016

I’m trying to make some changes. Diet changes. Less pizza, less soda, less potato chips and Doritos. In place of the soda, I’ve subbed in flavored sparkling water. I give myself a pop every day or every other day but it’s not it used to be. It wasn’t uncommon for me to drink a bunch of sodas in a day. Mountain Dews, Pepsi, Diet Dr. Pepper.


My stomach feels better. I think the lack of soda pop has made it easier on me, stomach-wise.


I wasn’t raised in a normal way. I sort of have to raise myself now. At the age people think mortgage for their home. I have to nurture that inner child that makes some people sick to hear about. That neglected inner child.


I am a depressed little boy. My depression is very strong. It’s not strong enough to make me want to die, but it’s strong enough to make me not want to take care of business. “Don’t clean up around here. It doesn’t matter.” I won’t clean up, depression. I won’t pick up all these clothes on the floor. I won’t sort out all this mail that piled up on my counter. “Don’t work on songs right now.” I won’t work on songs right now. I won’t finish any one of the millions of songs that are almost done. Maybe I will work on a few of them. . . eventually. I have so much to do. But depression is the boss around here. I just live here and pay the bills and put out the garbage at 9pm the night before the guy comes to collect it.


Or 1am. Whatever works for me and my depression.


Which one of us is in control? Obviously, the depression is right now.


I’m not melancholy. I’m not even sad. I’m listening to a soundboard of a Prince & The Revolution concert from 1986 just before they broke up and I’m enjoying myself. This might be the last concert they played in Tokyo. If depression were just a state of being sad, I wouldn’t have a problem. Because I’m not sad.


I have a chemical imbalance in my brain. That is the reason for my depression. I am not getting what I need, chemically and hormonally. I try to work through it with therapy and medication. It’s a science, not an art. Not a perfect science, either. And that is okay.


My depression is not going to be relieved by medicine. Pills are not happy-makers. They do not make me oblivious to my problems in real-life. They don’t help me forget that I am too fat, as well as a bunch of other stuff. The pills just aim to give me a more level playing field so I can deal with my problems instead of be on edge like a maniac all the time.


Pills will not make all my problems go away. They’re not supposed to, that’s not on the label. Some people want to make their problems go away and stop feeling sad and medicine just isn’t going to make that happen. Because bad things happen and your feelings are going to be what they are in relation to those events. If you’re in debt, depression medicine isn’t going to make that debt go away. I was fat before I took the medicine, I’m still fat. Pills didn’t take those things away. I didn’t take diet pills.


This has gotten away from me. These things usually do. I started writing about one thing and ended up writing about a bunch of other things in relation. I’m trying to tie it all together in a bow and I can’t. I wish I could but the real world isn’t tied in a nice little bow. It’s all a mess and it’s a mess in my life and it’s probably a mess in your life too. I just wanted to give a little bit of wisdom that I’ve gained from years of experience.


Everything I learned I learned the hard way.



Whatever Happens To You

August 20th, 2016

Whatever happens to the deceased?

I’ve had time to think about the dearly departed and this is what I have learned.

The deceased return to the universe.

They become a part of our environment.

Drops of morning dew,

flakes of volcanic ash,

atoms shifting throughout this blue ball of rain called Earth.

Matter changing throughout time,

always surrounding us,

never being far away.

In our lungs and in our nostrils

as well as our memories and dreams.

I can conjure up the loved ones I’ve lost.

Every time I sweat from hard work.

Each time I cry a tear of joy.

When I play a song, I wiggle the air molecules around me.

I can always touch the people I lost.

Brian Came To B.G.

August 18th, 2016

Brian Wilson came to Bowling Green for a show a few days ago and I got to see him. He was on his “Pet Sounds” 50th Anniversary tour, with Al Jardine and Blondie Chaplin as special guests. It was a strange show, considering the setting and the audience. Watching the show at SkyPAC with thousands of older folks who seemed to want to have a nice, normal time enjoying classic Beach Boys songs. If it had been in a small club in front of a crowd packed with hipsters my age and younger, I wouldn’t think it was so strange. But the niceness of the venue and the oldness of the crowd and the content of the music, especially the “Pet Sounds” music combined for an intense but interesting show.


First thing you realize when held up next to the classic Beach Boys hits is how “Pet Sounds” is such a moody collection of emotionally intense songs. It’s not a happy album at all. Brian Wilson produced that album when he was twenty-four, which is a pretty good age to have an existential breakdown about your life. So maybe “Pet Sounds” is the musical equivalent of that breakdown except it sounds beautiful and universal. And then you hear that same guy at the age of seventy-four singing “God Only Knows” and you start thinking.


I got choked up at “God Only Knows”. My life, how it has changed. How I have changed. To hear the old man sing the song that he wrote when he was a young, young man. He wrote it and had his brother sing it but his brother has passed on. And Brian can’t sing anymore. Or he can but his range is limited. By age and drugs and life. My God.


Brian Wilson, this poor s.o.b. is a 74-year-old drug-damaged schizophrenic. And he’s the ticket seller for this 50th anniversary tour. Why don’t we just leave the guy alone? He has to sell the tickets and be there in person for the show. That concert did more for Bowling Green than it did for Brian. And it was pretty weird.


I also cried at the last song of the night, “Love And Mercy”. Choked up again. Because that’s what it is all about. Love and mercy is what we need tonight. Every night. Forever. He’s right. We really do need Brian more than he needs us.


A VIP experience was available. No thanks. Never meet your idols. Nothing like posing for an awkward photo with an anxious old man. What are you gonna tell him? “Thank you. . . for everything.” Anything I’d want to say would be way too personal for someone who I don’t know and doesn’t know me. I’d want to hug him. Can you imagine how his eyes would bulge if a stranger just grabbed and hugged him. Forget it. Leave him alone.

My New Restaurant

August 9th, 2016

I am opening a new restaurant. Our grand opening is this weekend. It’s called “5300 Burritos”. It’s a theme restaurant. It’s on the 5300 block of Frederica Street in Owensboro right in front of the Malco theater. “5300 Burritos”. You should come out and see us.


It’s a theme restaurant. like all the great restaurants. Let’s say you stop in and order a burrito. Of course you would. The name of the place is “5300 Burritos”. Of course we got burritos to serve.


We don’t just give you a burrito. We give you 5,300 burritos. That’s five-thousand-three-hundred burritos. All at once. “But I didn’t ask for that many.” Shut up and eat what you got. Enjoy your 5,300 burritos. That’s the theme of the restaurant. No matter what you order, you get 5,300 burritos instead. You want pizza, you get 5,300 burritos. Tacos? Spaghetti? Hamburgers? None of those. 5,300 burritos for all of you.


“Can I have a to-go bag?” Nope. You either eat those 5,300 burritos here or leave them on the table. Do you know how hard it is to mass-produce produce burritos? Who do I look like, Dow Chemical? I’m a simple entrepreneur and that’s what makes this country so great; people like me who invest in it.


Now you’re thinking of ways to beat the system. “I’ll just bring 5,299 of my friends to eat with me.” No you won’t. You don’t have that many friends. Also, we have a maximum seating capacity of ninety-six. We get too many people in here and the fire marshal will shut us down.


You smartalecks out there are thinking “I know what I’ll do, I’ll go to the counter and ask for 5,300 burritos.” That’s how I ended up in this position. I wish you would, smartypants. Because you would be releasing me from THE CURSE.


That’ll teach you to joke around with a vengeful gypsy.

New Stunts For The Brave Of Heart

August 2nd, 2016

The other day I posted that for $200 I would go see “Hillary’s America”, the new Dinesh D’Souza propaganda film. The same guy who made “Obama’s America” and a bunch of anti-liberal junk that would make your eyes bleed if you have the ability to think for yourself.


While Obama and Clinton are worthy to be criticized, the filmmaker doesn’t need to shoehorn his agenda of post-colonialism and Saul Alinsky tactics and whatever else he thinks will make conservatives angry. You can critique them on their own terms and be justified. Anyway, nobody ponied up the $200 so I didn’t go see it, thank God.


If we had a Jackass or Fear Factor in 2016, we wouldn’t need the people on those shows to eat pig dick or jump into a vat of cattle dung for our amusement. There are plenty of stunts for the brave of heart out there that don’t involve grossness or risking your own health. Your sanity, maybe. Here are a few examples. Some you may have no problem doing, some you’d rather try to take a bit of pig dick instead.


  • Sitting through a marathon of Chrisley Knows Best
  • Teaching a grandparent how to text message
  • Listening to an entire episode of a Full House-themed podcast
  • Listening to a wrestling podcast review an episode of WWE Raw or Smackdown
  • Watch a friend install a video game
  • Watch open mic of any type (music, poetry, etc.)
  • Have a phone conversation with a narcissistic friend
  • Argue on Twitter
  • Reflect on your life and try to figure out where everything went wrong
  • Become an accomplice to cyber theft
  • Meet a person from California and ask them what part of California they are from and then ask them how close that is to the one part of California you’ve visited and then talk about the one time you went to California
  • Listen to your friend’s new song/album while they look at you for approval
  • Venture into any comment section
  • Care about things