<$BlogRSDUrl$>

These words are the last testament of Jesus Christ in the New World.

Saturday, December 06, 2003

There's a factory somewhere outside of san salvador where irony is being manufactured so everyone in america can enjoy it (hipster thing you thought of at the yuppie taqueria)
The purpose of tantric sex is that, since you have these big long sexual encounters but never actually orgasm, you become engulfed with the sexual experience, your desire becomes more powerful than you and you become entirely consumed by your preoccupation with the sexual act. By not having sex, your entire life becomes about sex. It's a lot like dieting that way.
So I was reading the Dr. Atkins diet book, because, theoretically, me not looking like a bloated manatee is one of my goals for fiscal year 2004. Getting this project from the theoretical to applied stage has taken some time, mostly because I'm pissy, lazy, and enjoy eating. So, I was reading the dr. atkins book, but i had to stop. If I wanted to deal with that many rules about what's ok to eat, i'd just become an orthodox jew.

this joke will never work.
They say behind every great man is a great woman. I've always wondered, what is she doing back there? Is she scared? Is she hiding? Is she making lemon bars? I like lemon bars, and I'd imagine a lot of great men do too. And, like they say "every" great man, but only "a" great woman. Is it just one great woman, going around getting behind all the great men in the world? I'd imagine she's got a great number of frequent flyer miles. And is there anyone behind her. Because I bet she could use some help making those lemon bars.
From a concept by Ryan Tate:

This year I got a grand total of 23 parking tickets. What's really impressive is that with all the time police spent hanging around my car, they didn't manage to stop one of the NINE SEPARATE times someone decided to break into my car this past year. I mean, what if the car gets stolen, then the police won't have anything to ticket, then how will they afford to pay police officers to not prevent crime?
When I was growing up, we were the only jewish family in town, yet, for some reason, there was a kosher food section at our grocery store. I felt a wierdly proprietary relationship with it. like it was there just for me. My new gym has this emergency heart attack kit with electric paddles and everything. I have very similar feelings abou it.

Wednesday, December 03, 2003

I've realized the only thing i'm good at is wasting my own potential.
I've come to the point where, the minute I'm attracted to someon, I just start hating him. Why bother with rejection when projective inversion saves so much time.
Life is a matter of perspective. Like when I was studying for the bar: Having one overwhelming, sysiphean task at least gives your life purpose. There's a wierd clarity that comes with not having options. People in concentration camps at least have a good reason they're not writing their novel.
My neice is being raised primarily by my mom and sister, and I used to worry about the psychological impact of spending all her time with two loud, abrasive jewish women. But it's actually been really good for her verbal skills: she's only two, and she's already complaining about her health on a fourth grade level. How many toddlers know what a gallblader is?
Sometimes, when I look at life, I think "I'll never fit in". Then I remember, "You know guy, you don't have to fit in everywhere, just start with a finger and lots of lube, and you'll work it out."
I went on the south beach diet. But i have no idea what the south beach diet is, I just assumed, based on the name, I was supposed to get most of my calories from vodka and cocaine. but that isn't teh south beach diet. That's called the paris hilton diet.
My mom is really proud of me and the things I do, but she’s wierdly embarrased of what other people might think of me. It’s kind of like I’m my mom’s penis.
Football is great, with all those pads and helmets and everything, you feel completely free. It’s like the only opportunity you ever get to try as hard as you can to hurt someone without any social consequenses. You know, until you get married.
I work out religiously. Unfortunately, I don’t believe in god.
I come from the kind of town where the words “conceptual art” means a painting that involves dogs AND jesus.
One of my hobbies is imagining how I would survive in a post-apocalyptic mad-max universe, like, how I would have to scrape for survival and protect myself against the lawless marauders who would pray on the weaknesses of kinder men. But the thing that probably scares me most is that there’d be no internet porn. Like, I could live without refrigeration or steralized water, but if there were no internet porn I’d spend the rest of my life and the only naked guys I’d see were ones who wanted to see me naked. There’s you’re hell,

As the only jewish kid in town, I ended up having weird respoinisibiliteies, like I always had to explain jewish stuff to other kids, and not just like Rosh Hashanna and Bette Midler. Weird stuff, like one time, in seventh grade, I had to explain to a kid what a delicatessen was. Which is a surprisingly hard thing to explain to a kid from a small farming town. I finally just told him “it’s like a bait shop, but for people”
I’m Jewish and gay. You can imagine how strongly I feel about bette midler.
I come from a small farming town in rural northern california. If this tells you how small it is, when someone says “I’m going downtown” they mean the bait shop.

Wal-mart disturbs me. There’s something vaguely anti-semitic about a powerhouse retail chain being owned by gentiles.

There’s supposed to be this working class american dream where everyone works hard for their kids to go to college and succeed. I don’t know if it really exists for most working class people, though. In my home town, most families just focussed themselves on the hope they might get tires for the chevy on blocks in the front yard.

Disney currently has three shows on broadway and is planning more. Some people fear this is going to lead to lead to a corporate artistic bankruptcy in american theater. I disagree, I think it’s part of something much, much bigger. I think that Disney is attempting to execute a full-scale hostile takeover of homosexuality. It’s a huge commodity these days: Will and Grace, Queer Eye, we are fruity gold. Disney knows that, and it must possess us. Call me paranoid L&G, but there will come a day when I can no longer kiss a boy without getting prior written consent from Michael Eisner… or Goofy.
For a while I thought my dad was cheating on my mom. Turns out he just really likes home depot. I mean, who actually leaves home at 9 in the evening to get a miter saw?
Home depot is like a drug. Like you go and it says “look at what you can do guy, you can install CROWN MOLDING your life is a sad and pathetic thing but it would be entirely better if you just had CROWN MOULDING”. And you’re there and they’ve got entire kitchens, appliances, a playful assortment of seasonal holiday decorations each promising a life new and better than before and you say YES, YES, YES. But home depot is no regular store, it is a boxy, just-off-the-interstate faustian bargain, because, when you go to a regular store and you buy a desk or a portable electric pasta maker, you get home and have a desk or a portable electric pasta maker. But when you go to home depot and buy a whole new gorgeous bedroom, you go home and all you have is a pile of wood, a bucket of paint, and the crisp realization that you are never going to get up off your lazy ass long enough to install any of the things you’ve purchased. Because the one thing they really need to start stocking at Home Depot is a reminder of your own inadequacies.
There’s this stereotype that gay men are fashion icons, full of excellent taste, constantly giving makeovers and always stocking their wardrobes with the latest fashions from milan and paris. Look at me. I am gay. I own jean shorts. I have never in my life performed any body hair removal activities. I do not have six pack abs. I’m not certain that I have abs of any sort. So what does this mean? That the cliches of gay men having exquisite taste are untrue? No, I have brilliant fashion sense, or at least that’s what dear Coco told me. I realize I’m a fashion nightmare, and I have concrete ideas for how to rectify this problem. The issue is, unlike those homosexuals you’ve seen on tv, I’m too lazy to spend hours waxing my back and working out and spending 140% of my income at diesel. It seems like a waste, doesn’t it, for me to have these magical gay superpowers and not have the driving need to use them for good. And the reason is that I suffer from the greatest super-weakness a homosexual man can know. The reason I don’t spend hours working fastidiously to prove my beauty and style and cultural accuity, the thing that consigns me to the torpid and zhlubby state before you is that I, unfortunately, like myself already, and don’t really feel the need to expend an excess of effort proving anything to anyone. I know, I’m never going to get a show on Bravo that way.
When I was young my dad always made me go duck hunting with him. I guess he thought it would make a real man out of me. The thing is, I was an unusually large, awkward child, as I continue to be a rather large, awkward adult, but somehow, absolutely every weekend, I managed to fall down face first into the rice field and fill my hipwaders to the brim with very cold stagnant water. It’s very possible that is the very moment when I realized if that was what masculinity involved, I was interested in knowing what that whole “apron” thing was about.
I get very tired of vegetarians. They refuse to eat meat because it’s hurtful to the animals. Have they ever met a chicken? I grew up on a farm. When my mom brought a roast chicken to the table, I knew what it’s name was, but still, I eat meat. Because I HATE chickens. Spend some time with them, you’ll realize, chickens are not graceful children of nature, they are smelly, hateful, vile animals who love to peck and scratch me. “Oh, but it hurts the chickens” I’m not denying it, I’m not saying chickens can’t feel pain. I’m just saying maybe I’d have more sympathy if they didn’t love to peck me so much. So until the nightmares go away., I will have my revenge, and it is named mcnugget.
One of the andrews sisters was clearly jewish. i'm just saying.
Rolling Stone's reviews of the Dixie Chicks are a public attrocity. But one supposes the core point of the Dixie Chicks is that they do not speak to the concerns/interests of hipster music guys in their twenties. Ahhh, but if those critics would only take the time to hear.

Sunday, November 30, 2003

Lots of jewish mothers wish their son had become a doctor. My mom is still having trouble getting over the fact I didn't decide to become the messiah.
My mother and I have an interesting relationship. She's the only person on the planet who could look at me and say "Guy, I'm worried you're not eating enough."

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

My email is guyball@yahoo.com. I don't know how to put it in here as a magical link thingy