I want mine, dammit.
not for the faint of heart.
I haven't pooped in 3 days. (I warned you)
I"m normally a pretty regular guy. At first I thought I was awaking to gas-related problems, and found medicine to allieviate the bloating and cramps that I'm experiencing. This helped, briefly.
So having the works gummed up has led me to excruciating, overwhelming pain. Not to mention the hot flashes and cold sweats. I swear, this is the 55 year old woman that lives inside me, trying to show me what menopause is like. Don't think for a second that my testicles don't feel like someone is repeatedly smashing them with a meat tenderizer. Kidneys? Yup, they feel like mice are on the inside of them, gnawing their way out.
I"ll make the joke before anyone else does; I'm full of shit.
However, this has also granted me to contemplate other things as well, seeing as how I'm to short-attention spanned for television when my insides are a writhing mass of pain-snakes. Things including, but not limited to; whatever happend to laser discs?, How come MadTV isn't funny, yet it runs for 8 hours out of the afternoon? I wonder if I can fix my video camera by taking it apart (I can't)?, Did the Falcons throw the game against the Saints?
Granted, I'm no Nietchze, stuck in a cave, eating my own syphlitic-ridden flesh, but I can certainly sympathize.
Now for the rest of my rant, er blog:
I liked Dane Cook. I liked him when he was doing the Comedy Central grind that any somewhat talented comedian will do. You know, a paying gig.
I don't however, buy into this rock-star image that he seems to have gained. Some of his material is funny. Some of it is just dumb, but people laugh anyway. His whole Tourgasm thing on HBO was not funny, nor was his most recent special. I don't expect the upcoming "romantic-comedy" to be anything other than a crap fiesta. Which makes me wonder: who do I have to blow in order to get famous? This media-god image that he has, I want. I have some shred of integrity, so I don't think it will happen, but seriously... if a stand-up comedian can achieve mainstream marketablity, where does the average-kevin sign up? I'm photogenic. I'm likeable. I could certainly use the extra pounds the camera puts on. I can be an asshole sometimes.
So, here's the idea. I want to get cameras mounted Big-Brother sytle in my condo. I want a crew to follow me around with hidden cameras. And I want whichever intern is playing man-boy for Rupert Murdock or any other Media Exec, to show this to him. Basically, I want something for nothing.
I realize that Mr. Cook has paid his dues through the comedy bit. But hey, I'm paying mine through the bartending bit.
I haven't pooped in 3 days. (I warned you)
I"m normally a pretty regular guy. At first I thought I was awaking to gas-related problems, and found medicine to allieviate the bloating and cramps that I'm experiencing. This helped, briefly.
So having the works gummed up has led me to excruciating, overwhelming pain. Not to mention the hot flashes and cold sweats. I swear, this is the 55 year old woman that lives inside me, trying to show me what menopause is like. Don't think for a second that my testicles don't feel like someone is repeatedly smashing them with a meat tenderizer. Kidneys? Yup, they feel like mice are on the inside of them, gnawing their way out.
I"ll make the joke before anyone else does; I'm full of shit.
However, this has also granted me to contemplate other things as well, seeing as how I'm to short-attention spanned for television when my insides are a writhing mass of pain-snakes. Things including, but not limited to; whatever happend to laser discs?, How come MadTV isn't funny, yet it runs for 8 hours out of the afternoon? I wonder if I can fix my video camera by taking it apart (I can't)?, Did the Falcons throw the game against the Saints?
Granted, I'm no Nietchze, stuck in a cave, eating my own syphlitic-ridden flesh, but I can certainly sympathize.
Now for the rest of my rant, er blog:
I liked Dane Cook. I liked him when he was doing the Comedy Central grind that any somewhat talented comedian will do. You know, a paying gig.
I don't however, buy into this rock-star image that he seems to have gained. Some of his material is funny. Some of it is just dumb, but people laugh anyway. His whole Tourgasm thing on HBO was not funny, nor was his most recent special. I don't expect the upcoming "romantic-comedy" to be anything other than a crap fiesta. Which makes me wonder: who do I have to blow in order to get famous? This media-god image that he has, I want. I have some shred of integrity, so I don't think it will happen, but seriously... if a stand-up comedian can achieve mainstream marketablity, where does the average-kevin sign up? I'm photogenic. I'm likeable. I could certainly use the extra pounds the camera puts on. I can be an asshole sometimes.
So, here's the idea. I want to get cameras mounted Big-Brother sytle in my condo. I want a crew to follow me around with hidden cameras. And I want whichever intern is playing man-boy for Rupert Murdock or any other Media Exec, to show this to him. Basically, I want something for nothing.
I realize that Mr. Cook has paid his dues through the comedy bit. But hey, I'm paying mine through the bartending bit.