when i'm bad...i'm terrible, honey.
if you could sit down and have a beer with anyone in the world, who would it be?
the other day, i overheard two geeks conversing about "myspace game." i nearly spat my glass of tap water all over myself. one of the geeks said "if i could be anything, i'd be your tear. so i can be born in your eyes, live on your cheeks, and die at your lips." like mikey said about sue in the movie swingers, "you live in a fucking fantasy world." no girl in the right mind would let a cheese sandwich like that warm her up. you're better off using "do you believe in love at first sight, or should i hit up the girls on your top 8?"
pet peeve: crazy, psycho, mental, irrational girls. call them what you will...but i personally avoid calling them altogether.
"live each day as if it were your last" is quite possibly the worst piece of advice i've ever heard. you should live each day as if you have several more years of life ahead of you. carpe diem is great and all, but don't always take it so literal. if i were to live each day as if it were my last, i'd be in prison - or worse, on haight street sipping on a 40 of O.E next to a war veteran named sampson.
i want to set up a friendly coffee date between two serial killers. it would be interesting to see how they would interact with one another. would they hit it off and exchange old gruesome stories about how they stalked, tortured and cut their victims to itty-bitty pieces? would they give each other tips and advice on how to execute a proper slashing-spree without getting caught? or would they take a stab at each others throat the moment one of them turns away from their danish?
if i were to live my life through the eyes of a serial killer, i wouldn't be anything violent like a slasher, cannibal or rapist. instead, i'd simply poison my victims drink with a solution that gives them 24 hours to live. then i'd be sure to visit their myspace page and write them a message: "oh hey, remember that lunch date you and i shared earlier today? yeah...well, i poisoned your diet pepsi, you have less than 24 hours to live. my bad. but hey, wasn't that chicken-salad just to die for?" fbi would nick-name me "poison-man", and people would never suspect me. even after getting caught, you'd hear surprised reactions like "i never once witnessed a sadist side to james. he was always very friendly and fun to be around." and the police probably wouldn't let me take a flattering mugshot - they'd wait for that split second to where i look "twisted, evil and fucked up" and yell out to the guy behind the camera "take it now!" SNAP! ugliest picture of me ever, printed on the front of every paper in the U.S, right next to Vanessa Hudgens.
i don't think i'm going to log into myspace as much. the login page is now some very fancy and animated html work involving the fat, annoying face of nicholas cage. not only does all that html crap slow my computer down, but the sight of nicholas cage alone is enough to keep me away from myspace. the only thing worse than this is when i go to visit a "friends" page, and it's so loaded with a bunch of embedded "you tube" shit and slide-shows, that it completely freezes my computer and fucks up the cd i'm burning. if you have a fancy myspace page, do me a favor and change it. or at least make the font and background kind to my eyes. shit, and you wonder why i never leave comments. i never eat at taco bell, either.
one of the worst feelings in the world is putting on a pair of dirty socks. you might be saying to yourself, "why in the world would anyone put on dirty socks to begin with?" hey stupid, some of us go out at night, whether it be local or out of town, and we end up unexpectedly crashing at a friends house. but like i was saying, it's a disgusting feeling to put on a pair of socks after they've already been worn - especially if you're stepping out of the shower. the only thing worse than putting on dirty socks is dirty underwear. in which case, i rather not take them off at all to avoid the uncomfortable feeling of putting them back on. in fact, i rather toss them in the garbage and free-ball it on the bart ride home.
how many of you get really disappointed when you leave your phone somewhere for a long period of time, finally get a hold of it, only to discover that you have ZERO missed calls and just as many text messages. you do? get a hobby.
the three weirdest compliments i've ever received.
1. someone commented about my talking voice. said it was sexy or something. i find this weird because i believe men can't have a "sexy" talking voice - some are just less annoying than others. i'm just glad i don't talk like that "clear eyes; the difference is clear" guy. "clear eyes is awesommeee."
2. the way i walk. i have no idea how i walk or why someone would say i have a good stride, but i was always just grateful with the fact that i'm not pigeon-toed or reverse pigeon-toed. is there a term for people that walk "normal?" yes there is - blessed.
3. my eyes. look, my eyes are not pretty. they're b for brown and b for boring. that's right, i have stupid, boring brown eyes...and there is nothing pretty about that. furthermore, if i didn't break my favorite pair of shades, i'd be wearing them right now, rain or shine. just kidding, i'd hate to inheret the nickname 'jamsey wonder'.
don't tell me i don't know how to take a compliment, because in all seriousness, i believe a compliment can never be bad. but if i had to compliment a physical feature about myself, i'd gloat about my feet. definitely my best physical feature, by far. my toes descend in size in the right order, while most guys have a second toe exceptionally longer than their "big" toe, or even worse, bunions, corn, or a crazy amount of hair - all kinds of shit that a man can only get while stepping barefoot in a public shower. i wear sandals even to my own bathroom, that's just the way i is. i even occasionally shave the strands of hair that tends to grow on my toes. "duude, are you gay?" no. i don't shave my legs, arms, chest or back - just my nuts and toes, promise. oh, and above my wiener, too.
i'm really craving a twix candy bar right now, but not the 2-package that you see in most gas stations and supermarkets. i want the individually wrapped, small one's that come in a big bag. because i feel that chocolate bars always taste better when they're the fun-size. agreed? a whole candy-bar is just too much. just like how m&m's are always better coming out of the freezer, same with thin mint girl-scout cookies. shit, now i'm all in junk-food-mode. too bad i never get in mixed-fruit-mode.
pop-corn smells much better than its actual taste. ever notice that? same rule applies to bacon. i don't find bacon to be entirely repulsive or anything, but the smell of them cooking is misleading. i mean, the smell of bacon alone screams "breakfast is served!" nevermind the eggs, waffles, or hashbrowns - the next time your friends are all passed out at your place, throw a few strips of bacon on the stove and watch them shoot up like an old man's penis on viagra. but while the smell of bacon dominates breakfast, christmas dominates the month of december. this is why i feel bad for december birthdates, because ANYTHING falling under the month of december is completely overshadowed by christmas. the commercials, colorful lights, christmas carols, it all consumes the whole month - while the birthdates around that time are just "oh yeah, happy birthday or whatever." and then you got those people that try to give you "combined gifts." like..."it's a big gift! it's for your birthday AND christmas." thanks, jackass. summer birthdates are the best, though - and i'm not just saying that because mine happens to fall under july. because while the month of december is all about christmas, finals and "bundling up," summer is all about large consumptions of alcohol, pointless coming to the age sexual experiences, and skinny dipping. 3 cheers for the cancers out there!
but the main differences between december and july are as followed:
december: you're wearing a banana republic sweater and/or j-crew blazer? alright, you're in!
july: you got a tan? a real one or fake one? doesn't matter, you're in! wait buddy, are those pac-sun board-shorts? def in!
december: beverages such as eggnog, hot cocoa and vanilla mocha's.
july: beverages like corona, margaritas, and fuzzy navels!
december: girls in pea-coats, boots and scarves.
july: girls looking for the top-half of their bathing suit!
joking, god. both months have their perks. it's like comparing chocolate to vanilla.
"skinny dip sesh." i heard some goon say this on an episode of laguna beach. and they didn't even end up going skinny dipping. another popular saying they seem to use a lot is "whatever, i'm over it." i bet you are, with your red fucking cup, your honkie shoes, your daddy's mercedes, and your stupid monotone voice. "really? let's do it." "really?!?" "really?!?" yes, fucking really!
football head jaratt asked me if i can drum travis barker's version of soulja boy's "crank that." i said "yeah, i can probably learn it, it's basic drumming." and he said "yeah right. i don't think you can." who would have a better idea of whether or not i can learn it; someone who's been drumming off and on since the 5th grade or jaratt mullaney, who's cd collection stands at a grand total of 1 - which is just some hip-hop mix his little brother made him. he has no musical background whatsoever. hell, he even failed the 'recorder' in grade-school because he couldn't learn hot-cross-buns. anyways, i learned it just for you, jaratt. i can play the whole thing with a fucking handkerchief over my eyes. i had much harder drumming when i was in routine.
guitar hero is no longer the only videogame system that showcases your ability to "rock out." the hand held system by nintendo ds now offers a game that allows you to strum a guitar with a stroke of a stylis. what is this, seriously? generation x is no longer breeding future rockstars. these kids need to learn to put down the control pads and pick up a pair of drumsticks. i'm afraid our world is going to strip the rockstar title from actual musicians and impose them onto computer and videogame geeks across the globe. trust me, it won't be long before the champion of halo 3 will be considered a god damn rockstar.
"dunzo"
-jem
the other day, i overheard two geeks conversing about "myspace game." i nearly spat my glass of tap water all over myself. one of the geeks said "if i could be anything, i'd be your tear. so i can be born in your eyes, live on your cheeks, and die at your lips." like mikey said about sue in the movie swingers, "you live in a fucking fantasy world." no girl in the right mind would let a cheese sandwich like that warm her up. you're better off using "do you believe in love at first sight, or should i hit up the girls on your top 8?"
pet peeve: crazy, psycho, mental, irrational girls. call them what you will...but i personally avoid calling them altogether.
"live each day as if it were your last" is quite possibly the worst piece of advice i've ever heard. you should live each day as if you have several more years of life ahead of you. carpe diem is great and all, but don't always take it so literal. if i were to live each day as if it were my last, i'd be in prison - or worse, on haight street sipping on a 40 of O.E next to a war veteran named sampson.
i want to set up a friendly coffee date between two serial killers. it would be interesting to see how they would interact with one another. would they hit it off and exchange old gruesome stories about how they stalked, tortured and cut their victims to itty-bitty pieces? would they give each other tips and advice on how to execute a proper slashing-spree without getting caught? or would they take a stab at each others throat the moment one of them turns away from their danish?
if i were to live my life through the eyes of a serial killer, i wouldn't be anything violent like a slasher, cannibal or rapist. instead, i'd simply poison my victims drink with a solution that gives them 24 hours to live. then i'd be sure to visit their myspace page and write them a message: "oh hey, remember that lunch date you and i shared earlier today? yeah...well, i poisoned your diet pepsi, you have less than 24 hours to live. my bad. but hey, wasn't that chicken-salad just to die for?" fbi would nick-name me "poison-man", and people would never suspect me. even after getting caught, you'd hear surprised reactions like "i never once witnessed a sadist side to james. he was always very friendly and fun to be around." and the police probably wouldn't let me take a flattering mugshot - they'd wait for that split second to where i look "twisted, evil and fucked up" and yell out to the guy behind the camera "take it now!" SNAP! ugliest picture of me ever, printed on the front of every paper in the U.S, right next to Vanessa Hudgens.
i don't think i'm going to log into myspace as much. the login page is now some very fancy and animated html work involving the fat, annoying face of nicholas cage. not only does all that html crap slow my computer down, but the sight of nicholas cage alone is enough to keep me away from myspace. the only thing worse than this is when i go to visit a "friends" page, and it's so loaded with a bunch of embedded "you tube" shit and slide-shows, that it completely freezes my computer and fucks up the cd i'm burning. if you have a fancy myspace page, do me a favor and change it. or at least make the font and background kind to my eyes. shit, and you wonder why i never leave comments. i never eat at taco bell, either.
one of the worst feelings in the world is putting on a pair of dirty socks. you might be saying to yourself, "why in the world would anyone put on dirty socks to begin with?" hey stupid, some of us go out at night, whether it be local or out of town, and we end up unexpectedly crashing at a friends house. but like i was saying, it's a disgusting feeling to put on a pair of socks after they've already been worn - especially if you're stepping out of the shower. the only thing worse than putting on dirty socks is dirty underwear. in which case, i rather not take them off at all to avoid the uncomfortable feeling of putting them back on. in fact, i rather toss them in the garbage and free-ball it on the bart ride home.
how many of you get really disappointed when you leave your phone somewhere for a long period of time, finally get a hold of it, only to discover that you have ZERO missed calls and just as many text messages. you do? get a hobby.
the three weirdest compliments i've ever received.
1. someone commented about my talking voice. said it was sexy or something. i find this weird because i believe men can't have a "sexy" talking voice - some are just less annoying than others. i'm just glad i don't talk like that "clear eyes; the difference is clear" guy. "clear eyes is awesommeee."
2. the way i walk. i have no idea how i walk or why someone would say i have a good stride, but i was always just grateful with the fact that i'm not pigeon-toed or reverse pigeon-toed. is there a term for people that walk "normal?" yes there is - blessed.
3. my eyes. look, my eyes are not pretty. they're b for brown and b for boring. that's right, i have stupid, boring brown eyes...and there is nothing pretty about that. furthermore, if i didn't break my favorite pair of shades, i'd be wearing them right now, rain or shine. just kidding, i'd hate to inheret the nickname 'jamsey wonder'.
don't tell me i don't know how to take a compliment, because in all seriousness, i believe a compliment can never be bad. but if i had to compliment a physical feature about myself, i'd gloat about my feet. definitely my best physical feature, by far. my toes descend in size in the right order, while most guys have a second toe exceptionally longer than their "big" toe, or even worse, bunions, corn, or a crazy amount of hair - all kinds of shit that a man can only get while stepping barefoot in a public shower. i wear sandals even to my own bathroom, that's just the way i is. i even occasionally shave the strands of hair that tends to grow on my toes. "duude, are you gay?" no. i don't shave my legs, arms, chest or back - just my nuts and toes, promise. oh, and above my wiener, too.
i'm really craving a twix candy bar right now, but not the 2-package that you see in most gas stations and supermarkets. i want the individually wrapped, small one's that come in a big bag. because i feel that chocolate bars always taste better when they're the fun-size. agreed? a whole candy-bar is just too much. just like how m&m's are always better coming out of the freezer, same with thin mint girl-scout cookies. shit, now i'm all in junk-food-mode. too bad i never get in mixed-fruit-mode.
pop-corn smells much better than its actual taste. ever notice that? same rule applies to bacon. i don't find bacon to be entirely repulsive or anything, but the smell of them cooking is misleading. i mean, the smell of bacon alone screams "breakfast is served!" nevermind the eggs, waffles, or hashbrowns - the next time your friends are all passed out at your place, throw a few strips of bacon on the stove and watch them shoot up like an old man's penis on viagra. but while the smell of bacon dominates breakfast, christmas dominates the month of december. this is why i feel bad for december birthdates, because ANYTHING falling under the month of december is completely overshadowed by christmas. the commercials, colorful lights, christmas carols, it all consumes the whole month - while the birthdates around that time are just "oh yeah, happy birthday or whatever." and then you got those people that try to give you "combined gifts." like..."it's a big gift! it's for your birthday AND christmas." thanks, jackass. summer birthdates are the best, though - and i'm not just saying that because mine happens to fall under july. because while the month of december is all about christmas, finals and "bundling up," summer is all about large consumptions of alcohol, pointless coming to the age sexual experiences, and skinny dipping. 3 cheers for the cancers out there!
but the main differences between december and july are as followed:
december: you're wearing a banana republic sweater and/or j-crew blazer? alright, you're in!
july: you got a tan? a real one or fake one? doesn't matter, you're in! wait buddy, are those pac-sun board-shorts? def in!
december: beverages such as eggnog, hot cocoa and vanilla mocha's.
july: beverages like corona, margaritas, and fuzzy navels!
december: girls in pea-coats, boots and scarves.
july: girls looking for the top-half of their bathing suit!
joking, god. both months have their perks. it's like comparing chocolate to vanilla.
"skinny dip sesh." i heard some goon say this on an episode of laguna beach. and they didn't even end up going skinny dipping. another popular saying they seem to use a lot is "whatever, i'm over it." i bet you are, with your red fucking cup, your honkie shoes, your daddy's mercedes, and your stupid monotone voice. "really? let's do it." "really?!?" "really?!?" yes, fucking really!
football head jaratt asked me if i can drum travis barker's version of soulja boy's "crank that." i said "yeah, i can probably learn it, it's basic drumming." and he said "yeah right. i don't think you can." who would have a better idea of whether or not i can learn it; someone who's been drumming off and on since the 5th grade or jaratt mullaney, who's cd collection stands at a grand total of 1 - which is just some hip-hop mix his little brother made him. he has no musical background whatsoever. hell, he even failed the 'recorder' in grade-school because he couldn't learn hot-cross-buns. anyways, i learned it just for you, jaratt. i can play the whole thing with a fucking handkerchief over my eyes. i had much harder drumming when i was in routine.
guitar hero is no longer the only videogame system that showcases your ability to "rock out." the hand held system by nintendo ds now offers a game that allows you to strum a guitar with a stroke of a stylis. what is this, seriously? generation x is no longer breeding future rockstars. these kids need to learn to put down the control pads and pick up a pair of drumsticks. i'm afraid our world is going to strip the rockstar title from actual musicians and impose them onto computer and videogame geeks across the globe. trust me, it won't be long before the champion of halo 3 will be considered a god damn rockstar.
"dunzo"
-jem