He's not a movie star, Now he has to go deal with mom and dad.

You got me again.

This library.  Not Jack in the Box.  Not the colors, not the actors.

I'm your actor.  My nature works to perfection with your—This guy scratched his dick then licked his finger, then he scratched his thigh and the guy next to him stared at him.  When it was another man's turn to use the computer, he let me go ahead of him.  One guy was trying to type up his lyrics.  One man looked up head lice.  Headbands and dreadlocks. This is reality, not black guys praising me.  This library is beautiful on the outside.  The inside people have to work for it.  

I'm a tourist The only sovineur I deserve is the In Touch.

At least I got to feel what it would be like.

I'm still sychzophrenic.  And you guys didn't hurt my feelings.  Don't show any footage of me dancing on my blog.  That was really cool.  Best night of my life.

what are you looking at?

even a breeze makes me wanna drink

Nothing's going my way today. All my jokes are miss. A girl's friend and coworker was recently fired, and I said what happened, fight over the same guy?  And they had.  I tried to hit on a woman so I sat myself down at her table and asked her how are you?  I didn't know what direction to take my pitch so I asked her how are you three more times and she asked me if I was retarded.  I spotted a little kid at a nearby table staring at me so I made a movement with my head and body like I was about to sock him. Just then another woman walked past and I turned my head and told her I love you and she didn't even say I love you back.   then the original woman called security on me.  She was gelus, and I said, You old dog, you still got it.

these diet sodas will be the death of me

Ah, the Motel, where it all began.  Right across the street from the mental health center.  Oh, the dangers of romanticizing, of standing outside the building, where they told me my best option was to kill myself.  It was so wonderful. I missed them.  I love it when they make fun of me; I start blushing.  It's hard to say goodbye, and I don't want to be ungrateful, but will my memory say bye-bye?  It had probably been in the works for some time—I thought I heard some people speaking code outside another motel some weeks earlier—but I didn't catch it.  A helicopter had been following me around for a couple days.  They only come out after awhile.  Probably when they think I'm about to start dying.  So I'm supposed to worry about living healthy but I'm more concerned about looking good.  My resentments—arguing with others in my mind based on what I think they think of me—are starting to rear their spiteful head.  Does that sound right?  How can something rear its ugly head?  Maybe it means I'm thinking ass backwards right now.  Well of course I would be!  I can't be thinking ass frontwards now, can I?  Wanker.

Feels like a LOTR Trilogy day.

...Nevermind.  Owe the library ten bucks. I'm not going to pay ten bucks to see a movie.  Lots of eggs would be on my face.  Besides, late fees are unconstitutional.

- But if you pay the amount owed, you can continue renting a plethora of great selections.

- I've had it with your nonsensical ravings and whimiscal flights of fancy.  What the hell's a plethora?

- An armful of DVDs, for free.  Imagine that.

- Explain yourself!

- If you pay the amount owed—

- But I don't want to.

- ...you can rent as many DVDs as you can fit in your bag

- And I suppose I have to pay for the bag?  You cunt.  

- Please don't call me that. You can rent as many DVDs as you can fit in your hands.

- A man's hands, you can bet.

- In your hands or handsome burly arms.

- Well why didn't you just out and come with it, toiling around the edges like a fairy on a sailboat.  What the hell's a plethora?  

- It is something you can hold in your arms.

- Well, then why didn't you come out with it?  You ought to blow me when I feel like it.  

- I tried to explain it to you.

- I ought to put the bag over your head and choke you while I—Come on, let's go to your bank account.

- I don't have but ten dollars, I'm sorry.  I do the best I can with—

- That's okay you have more than I need.  And you can make up for the rest by...ah, jeez, he off and went and killed himself.  The cunt fairy.  I ought to put the bag over his head and real quick before the cops come...ah...ah...ek!...oh!  Egg on his face, cunt bitch.

- I'm back.

- Huh, what?

- Grabbed a tuna sandwich from the donut shop round the corner.  $3.75 on wheat.  Can't beat it.

- I thought you off and went and snuffed it?

- Doesn't sound like me.  

- Then who's this?!

- Oh, that's just your imagination.  Turns out, I was just hungry.

- Egg on my face!

- I'm laughing: ha ha ha ha! Asians make the best sandwiches.  Everybody knows that.  Everybody.

- I understand and follow you clearly.

- I told that guy no mayo.  That sandwich tasted too good for No Mayo.

- Do you want me to go get my bag?

- Yea, we got some choking to do.

- Should we hold hands?

- Not while we're choking him.

- Right, then he might not take us so seriously.

- Yea, we don't want him laughing at us while we try to kill him.  Very undermining.

- Who wants to die laughing?

tired, hungry, angry, irritable

Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired...I was way off!

When he hurt my feelings, I kicked him out of my house.  He laughed, but I was insistent, so he walked out and I shut the door on him.  I looked out through the window by the door—he was smiling uncomfortably.  When he caught me staring at him, I shut my blinds.  But then it was dark in the room, so I opened the blinds, and looked out at him again.

One time, I saw a homeless man with a sign that simply read, "I need to eat."

I got angry or hurt  when a friend said today that homelessness is simply an issue of will power.  Maybe it is, I don't know.

There was a young man yesterday, with a sign that said, "Navy Vet.  Trying to get back home to Chicago."  A part of me thought, that's pretty clever.

my metabolism's slowed down

brain's reward center is like a child

My heart's broken and mended

14, 15, 36 times a day.

I don't get how I can be so blue

about my existence but laugh so often.

I don't get how I can be so sociable

with strangers but so anti-social.

I should prolly shave.

I don't do the scruffy look anymore

Someone told me women really go after burly men,

that who wants someone who is prettier than she is,

and if that's the case, then the theory holds that she has lesbian tendencies.

There's two types of thunder.

On Thursdays, you get three chicken tacos for $2.29

It's that time again—yea that's right, Del Taco time.  Where the rich get richer, and the lonely, lonlier.  I want to say something nice to the drive-thru girl.  For example, did you know you can start a sentence with, "For example."  Ah, don't listen to him; the question mark is up his ass. Last time, I heard a cheerful voice on the intercom, then when I tried to bargain with unrealistic goals, the sweet tone of her voice didn't change.  So obviously she saw me on the camera, and she wants me to hit on her, and I'm taken, but I didn't want to ruin her night.  So when I pulled up, I gave her a moment to soak me in, in the flesh.  I tried to gaze a little beyond her, like I was searching for a star, and I hit her with, "You sound too happy, you must not have been working here long."  I realized what I had said as she got depressed filling up my diet coke, so I asked her if she was new to this country. She smiled, and said, "9 years."

I decided it was best not to open my mouth any further, but I didn't know which one was hotter, Inferno or Scorcher?  One of them was too hot.

there goes the fear

doves - the last broadcast

This fuckin guy, he makes no effort to reciprocate.  I walked by his booth a few times and sighed.  He didn't nod, not even a few sympathetic smiles.  I mean, who the hell does he think he is?  He adds no jokes of his own to the environment—I can't even tell what article he's reading.  I better stick around and see what kind of tip he leaves.

My tipping method is polished.  Just as I'm stiffing the waitress, I ask her if that's a good amount.  What's she gonna say? No?  I'll call the manager and get her ass fired.  Then I'll ask for some comps.

I got a good response for my second joke.  I might repeat it in a couple minutes, see what happens

I probably won't be able to fit into the car after this breakfest.  I wonder if the gentleman in the booth next to me is a cereal killer.  I should tell him I'm on anti-psychotics and wink.  I said my first joke at the diner loud enough for him to hear.  No response or sportsmanship.  Definately cereal— 

Hey, I'm in Nevada and I'm not gambling—lay off me I'm irrationally hungry!

If only there were someone with me.  Then he could order the blackberry peach cobbler pancakes, and I the banana pudding, and we could go half and half.

I'm in Nevada.  No big deal.  She's not the only one who sees places.  That's what I do, you know?  I do what I do.  I'm tired.    All I can do is what I do.  I'm in front of an IHOP, trying to pysch myself up to go in and order a breakfest with Banana Pudding pancakes I saw in a commercial the other day.  If I psych myself up, I won't feel so guilty afterwards.  I'm not really hungry.  I had three oatmeal cranberry cookies bout half an hour ago.  I had a good excercise session today; I did 8 activities, legs, back, you name it.  Then I blow it all in the midnight hours, I cry more more more.  I get depressed when I can't sleep.  And I often can't sleep these days...except in the afternoons.  I usually get up around 4pm.  Today I woke up near brunch time, and I still couldn't sleep.  So I drove to Nevada.  I get pretty depressed when I'm not eating.  The worst is when I'm near finished eating.  I wonder what she's doing.  I do good when I stick to my diet.  My dreams haven't been nearly as pleasant recently. I get depressed when she gives me bad news in dreams.  So what?  Don't look at me like that; lots of people have recurring characters in their dreams.  In the afternoons I sleep like a log.  I get pretty depressed having to think about working out.  I'll torture myself for a couple hours, or try to keep sleeping, before I get up and pysch myself up.  It's all about the pysch.  I wonder if she's married.  I think she might be an English professor.  But the people on my phone who communicated this to me while they were watching my face in action may have been purposefully misleading me, disseminating misinformation, as it were.  They showed me a picture of a baby that looked like her and some blond guy, the villain.  Then they showed an unflattering picture of what my baby would look like, with missing teeth.   Maybe she works for the CIA.  Maybe she's a movie director.  The CIA's always trying to take me down.  The thing is though, what I've learned, at least thus far, I've never been able to correctly spell breakfest.  I read Aliens for Breakfest, and yet, I still can't spell the word to save my pancake—

Cuanto Questa, bien bien me gusto! Mi hermana es mi hermana para es un ella yo la kitchina pero muy estupida donde junk like this

Check it out, Easter!

Bought this sweater for my sister at a garage sale today.  5 dollars?  No problem; I have it.  Let's be honest here, it's a car-hole.  I might keep it if my belly doesn't show.

Will have mom send it.  We're not talking.  She's stupid.  "Your brother sent you this sweater.  He knows how fond you are of other peoples' garbage."

Cute dog not included.

- We have time for a burning desire.  Would anyone like to share?  Go ahead.

- Yea, they're not messing around when they say, "Party Bag." Even when everyone around you leaves you, you're on the kitchen floor in your underwear, with the bag between your legs.  One night I went out to buy more milk.  I had the route memorized.  But for some odd reason, at the last intersection, instead of making a right, I made a left, and that's how I ended up here.  It was the best decision I ever made. Thank you.

I had a similar experience with my cocoa demon, as I Iiked to call her.  My preference was the darker stuff.  It got to the point where I was forging documents and writing fake articles about recent studies finding chocolate to be beneficial for canine vision.  We had a blind dog.  I'd insert the leaflets into Veterinary Research Magazine, and leave them on the coffee table for my wife to read. I'd do it routinely, hoping to find some more chocolate in the cupboards.  I didn't have time to feel what a coward I was; I was too busy trying to savor it.

Once I got that first chocolate in me, you know, a benign mini Kat-Kat, it's only 20 calories, you figure, and half the size of a single finger—that's what I used to call them.  And—you've been working hard all day, you know... "Four fingers, I need," I used to say to my guy over the phone, so people didn't know what I was up to.  But once you get that first chocolate in you, I mean, you deserve one, you've had a—Anyway, after the first Kit Kat, you gotta get the milk, of course...and my daughter she had just become a vegan or a hipster, I don't know, but I'd be scrambling between the soy and almondmilk and my own lowfat milk... You're so busy that you forget what it even tasted like, what it really means to savor it, and you find any reason to—cause now you got the cup of milk, you know...I don't know, I'm just grateful there's a place I can go to every night.  Thank you.

Shawshank Redemption is awesome.

A hot day like this warrants an ice cold beer.  Just not for me.  I'll live vicariously, thank you.  Shit, I've lived vicariously in a lot worse ways.  Ack! ack! ack! ack! ack!  Lou, where's your belt?

- Did you hear what happened to EatKhash?

- No, what happened?

- Murdered two people.

- Oh.  Oh my...

- Yea, when the cameras caught him getting arrested, he kept screaming, "I killed a black man and a midget."

Wait till I get to the G's

I'm getting all edgy but I'm not a rockstar,  just a sensitive soul.  God help anyone who—I'll kill em all.  Nobody likes me.  All mass murderers were on anti-pyscotics.  I have a reason to.  Nobody likes me.  First I'll start with the A's.   I'll kill everybody in Australia.  Then I'll take a plane—obviously the flight and the pilot are from like Singapore or something, cause I've killed everybody in Australia by now—and before the authoritites from Interpol—cause I've killed all Australian officials by now—realize that I've killed every body in Australia, I'll have killed off all Albanians, and all Alfanians, then in Armenia, I'll bribe someone to let me in—cause I've taken a lot of loot from Albania—then I'll kill him, his brothers, and aunts and uncles too.  Then all his close friends waiting for him in the heart of the city I'll kill and the other two friends that are lagging I'll kill them too.  I'll kill the girl he's going to meet at the cafe by the park.  I'll kill her too.  Then I'll fly to Argentina.  I'll kill Diego Forlan and the richest Armenian in Argentina I'll kill too after I kill the Belizeian pilot, I'll kill that bastard too.  Obviously he wasn't Armenian or Argentine.

mr. weiner

i found my nail clippers.  It's a tool for your nails, your hands, your toes.  I wore my nice socks in case someone walked in and wanted to compliment me on my socks.  You can really feel the difference when you pull the material onto your feet. I try not to look aggressive or unapprochable, but it's hard for me to smile and i was worried my fangs might rip into the socks.  i came home and took off my socks and placed them back in the drawer with their friends.

tomorrow i think i'll clip my toe nails and go back to del taco. i'll be more comfortable, and i can stay longer.  the girl who works there is heavyset and very standoffish.  I often feel like i should verbally abuse her but when i look into her eyes and at her lips i wonder if she is depressed, and then sometimes i look at her and i want to tell her she's lazy.   This time i go i think i'll wear shorts and ask her what she thinks of my socks. She doesn't seem very talkative.  I want to figure out if she's insecure about her weight or if she's secure but still very curt. 

23 catch tacos please

get fat or feel better

either way, both roads are still going to lead me to the loneliest place on earth, del taco, 

if anyone wants me ill be arguing with the workers

Fuck this shit, I'm not just going to lie in bed like a momo. I'm going to watch The Insider with Russell Crowe and Al Pacino, and smoke cigarettes till I fall asleep.

she churched off in jerk

it was a chicken jerk

i want to church the chicken

but eat the jerk

it was a chicken jerk

she was a jerk

i didn't know what she was thinking

she wanted to know what i was thinking

she didn't give me a penny

so she sent me to church

where i couldn't jerk off

so i ate their chicken

then the old lady got mad

and kicked me out of their house

i told her if i had more money

id go to church

i was still jerking off

and there was blood on my face

but she wasn't interested in my money

she's like that

we're both romantics me and her

she wanted to cut the head off the chicken

I told her I'd never eat a Big Mac again

but she did she did go with Ted

Ted's parents own the barn.

in my dream the building was about to explode or be flooded and we had to get out of the room and go down all the steps but we were lagging.  we didn't know if we should use the elevator.  I'll tell you what id rather be back in that building than here...like a momo!

What do you want?  
or could it be What is it you want?
lost in translation, one's softer

she sent me to church, where I couldn't jerk off

I don't know what she was thinking.

she thinks I'm broken, yes she does
I don't know what she was thinking.

I miss the days of good ol sweet milk.  That's what black people call full flavor.  I mean, they're not black, they're just Southern.  These days you don't know if it's dairy free are you still lactose intolerant?  The way I see it, line em all up and just mow them down, except the black people, they've had enough, yes they have.  You want to say to the world, just take a breather, it's gluten free.  At least that's how I see it.

...and then the fuckin cashew milk didn't taste any good.  I was so excited I was because I thought it'd taste better than almond milk, but it didn't, no it didn't.  And you'd think it would because cashews taste better than almonds, but depending on who you ask, that's what they would think, based on what they thought.  I mean, who knows what people are likely to think, some people drive the same car for 20 years, maybe 30 who knows

Great Champions League final.  To think I was going to not watch it cause I had so many nightmares after stoping my quack meds so abruptly.  I had to take half of one in the middle of the night, then the other half in the morning to be able to stay asleep, but I snuck in some coconut macarons and mountain dew, and a cream cheese bagel. It was delicious. Everything is delicious.  The cream cheese I did out of spite.

Eibar stays in La Liga top flight despite finishing in relegation zone, yes!

Due to Elche's tax debts, duh!

No more pills!

I think someone just called me a fag from the cars driving by.  Now how the hell's he going to know what is my sexual orientation.  The guy's obviously guessing.  That's his pastime, guessing.  Now look, aside from four days of moderate weight lifting this week,  I've basically walked four miles a day for six days, and I'm just getting fatter.  It's not so much that he's a quack, or that he didn't remember me, or that he even asked me what pills I wanted, but that the sonuvebitch prescribed me three meds, all of which are known to increase appetite.  I've never gorged so much on sweets and felt great!  Every night I eat a protein bar before bed to make me full, then I wake up two hours later and sleepeat four more.  I went to a real doctor today, who said I didn't need any of them, and if I keep taking them, I'll end up a zombie when I'm 80.  He was gay; I could tell.  Not that there's anything wrong with that.  But that sonuvebitch quack!  What an affront to my vanity.  I tried to tell the nurse, yo honey, my wallet's really heavy and she said she'd take off six pounds, but shit, man...

- Per the group conscience, we ask that you not share if you're all fudged up.

- No cross-talk, Eugene.

- Sorry.

- ...me too.

- Bunch of freaks.

You know who has a problem with chocolate?  My little brother.  No, why are you nodding?  I don't have a problem with chocolate—it's delicious.  Why are you nodding? What the hell is wrong with you people? Look, it's just a Tootsie Roll.  If I don't eat it, it's going to eat me.   You guys are a bunch of freaks.

...cause some people don't come back, man. Some people die out there fighting with pigeons and demons. They say you'd step over your own mother—No, you step over her, then come back, check her bottom to see if she sat on any. That's the nature of this disease, man...