Reunited And It Feels So Self-Indulgent!

Everybody can finally stop looking. Hundreds and thousands of man hours have been poured into this search and, finally, it has come to a happy conclusion.

The pretty girl who disappeared in Aruba? Oh, she's still missing (but, the attention paid to her search is a whole other issue entirely that I won't get into).

Jimmy Hoffa's body? Nope. Still no sign of that.

Osama Bin Laden? He's actually working at an Arby's in Des Moines, but nobody believes me.

However, there is something much, much more important than all of these things that has been returned to its rightful place.

Bono's goddamn cowboy hat.

I must have clicked to read the "Who Gives a Fuck?" section of the news on accident. I think he must believe his hat can cure AIDS in Africa because I used to think that that was the only thing he pretended to care about. But, take away his fucking hat and face the wrath of Bono. Fuck AIDS or poverty. When you mess with an Irishman's cowboy hat, you may as well be taking a dump in a pint of Guinness while sodomizing a leprechaun.

In other news, an old British lady just stabbed another woman in a Red Lobster for spilling wine all over her kimono. The victim, a South African woman, will have to buy a new pair of wooden clogs because they were destroyed in the scuffle.

Interesting thought of the day:
Carpe Diem is Latin for "Overused Latin Expression."

Happy Birthday...World!

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Alien Vs. Thetan!

Over the weekend, I saw the blockbustravaganza known as War of the Worlds. The movie was okay in that way that it's always okay to see a whole bunch of computer-generated shit blow up; that's always good. If you told me that my puppy had to be put down and I had finally contracted AIDS from the years of unprotected sex with New York City toilet seats, but you accompanied it with lots of explosions and people getting cut in half by laser beams, I'd probably be a little bummed, but, at the same time, totally stoked because some awesome shit was going down on screen.

So, in that way, the movie was entertaining--especially the first half. But, every time Tom Cruise came on screen, I couldn't help but think of how goddamn crazy he is now, Matt. And I know something about crazy. I've studied it, Matt. Matt, you're just being glib, but I know what I'm talking about, Matt. Matt.

Honestly, though, enough of this kidding nonsense; it hasn't worked for me for three years anyway. Even at the most sentimental moments when he and creepy adult-child Dakota Fanning were having emotional, touching moments, I couldn't help but think what was said moments before "Action!"

"Hey, Dakota. I know you're only ten, but, have you ever thought about the fact that every person on this planet actually contains the souls of a portion of the billions of people that were brought to this planet by the galactic ruler, Xenu, who strapped them to volcanoes and blew the fuck out of them with hydrogen bombs 75 million years ago? Dakota. That's why people get sick, Dakota. Because they have 75 million year old souls stuck to them. And, with my help, we can free those souls from inside of you. If you don't get it done, Dakota, you'll die."

"But, Mr. Cruise, didn't some guy just make all that stuff up?"

"Yes and no, Dakota. See, he made it all up, but it just turns out that everything he made up was absolutely true."

"Oh. I know I'm only ten, like you said, so I may not know any better, but that sure sounds like a huge load of fucking bullshit. I mean, when I was younger I believed that a fat man could fly around the world and deliver presents to everybody in one night, but goddamn, I think even if I was born mentally retarded and would only, in my lifetime, reach a cognitive capacity of a 4-year-old, I would still call bullshit on that story."

Then, since he's one of only a handful of level 6 Thetans on this planet (thus, capable of doing what needed to be done), Tom Cruise eats Dakota Fanning whole because it's the only way to save her and free all of the souls trapped inside of her. Then, with the fresh blood of a saved child on his lips, he kisses the Lizard Princess (who can only be revealed by looking through magic glasses a la They Live), Katie Holmes, and rapes Oprah.

Interesting thought of the day:
I can never sneak anywhere because, when I tiptoe, I can't help but hum the cartoon tiptoe music. I also have the same problem with accompanying myself musically while chasing ghosts through hallways with lots of doors and having tons of dirty sex with the pizza man.

So, You Want More Friends?

A lot of people like to have friends. Me, though, I like to have BEST friends. Because who else is going to braid my hair and let me borrow tampons (Grandma)?

Since, at the moment, I have well over 1,500 friends (1 of which is actually a living, breathing entity and not, instead, a tiny faux-person I made out of an old pringles can, some construction paper, and a giant void in my life), I figured that it's only fair that I share some ways that can help you turn somebody into a friend for life!

I'm going to try to make these applicable to both sexes since I know I have a very strong contingent of ladies that read my work (or, as I like to call it, my "Literary Orgasms").

• Upon meeting a new person that you know would work well as your best friend, immediately grab their vagina or balls and poke or tug ferociously while saying, "Who am I? Who am I? What does this button/lever do? KABOOM!" Then, while they're crying (not because of pain, but because they're laughing so hard in anticipation of what could possibly get even funnier than the setup), tell them this: "One of the guys from the Challenger!" This was how I made my first friend, way back in 1986, but, surprisingly, though a dated reference and joke, it still works wonders today.
  
• Repeatedly tell this new person everything that you find wrong with them ("You know that your eyeballs are really crooked? Seriously, like Sloth from Goonies or Shannon Doherty.", "I'm sure people have told you before, but nothing you say is interesting. Ever. You talk and I just start thinking about anything else going on in my life because, if I don't, I'll probably start gnawing my own arm off like a coyote or that guy who went hiking and sawed his own arm off with a credit card to get out from underneath that rock.", or "You should probably look into having somebody take a huge shit on you before you leave the house because anything would be an improvement on the way that you smell naturally.") Then, after you tell them these things, always make sure you say, "But I'm still hanging out with you anyways because we're best friends."
• Steal your new acquaintance's wallet/purse. If you can, get access to their bank accounts as well and sell as much of their stuff on ebay as you possibly can. Then, tell them that you donated all their money to charity, like kids with flies on their face, and how good they should feel about it. It doesn't matter if you actually give this money to charity or not--you can keep it--but just letting the person think that their money is going to good use is the gift of a lifetime and you'll be rewarded with everlasting FRIENDSHIP!
• Two words: Naked hug.
• Call your new friend any time, especially in the middle of the night. Make sure that they're asleep. When they answer the phone and ask what's the matter, just tell them that you can't believe that you're best friends with somebody so awesome. This works even better if you show up to their house in the middle of the night and do this in person.
• Sign your friend up for as many junk mailing lists as you possibly can. Then, when they complain about how much mail they're getting, tell them that everybody is trying to be their new best friend, but there can be only one. Then, take out your sword (which you should always carry with you) and cut off the head of an innocent person standing nearby. Your new best friend loves Highlander references.
• This one probably only works for guys: Rape your new friend's significant other. This may sound harsh, but you'll see where I'm going. When your best friend's girlfriend "whines" about getting raped, you tell your friend that you were just making sure his girlfriend was the one and that it must be true love because she really put up a fight.
• Plant incriminating evidence (heroine, child porn, body parts) at your future friend's house. Then, call in an anonymous tip to the police. When this person is convicted and sent to prison, tell them that, even though you didn't know them that well, you don't think that they'd be capable of what they're there for. This will light a fire in this person's heart for you and you're on your way to having a new best friend in only 15 years to life.

Interesting thought of the day:
If you have children that are going through puberty, just tell them that "puberty is magic" and when they're done with it, they'll become the most powerful wizard in the land. That will get them ready for adulthood.

You Taking-For-Granted Motherfuckers!

So, I knowingly write something that isn't funny and, instead of deleting it as I normally do (you don't want to know the stuff that I've thrown out--100 times worse than that last entry; one was 10,000 words, written in Aramaic, about how hilarious it is that you get a tiny bag of peanuts on airline flights), acknowledge it as punishment because you bastards haven't been commenting, and I get 3 comments?

Looks like the only way to get you fuckers to talk is to be horrible. Let this be a lesson to all of you "lurkers." I don't need you commenting on every entry, but, feel free to, occasionally, add a little something (even if it's a poorly disguised attempt at not getting me to write something awful again). I will not hesitate to do this again. Trust me. This last one was just a warning shot. I've got a novella in me about how weird vaginas look.

Anyway.

Spanish people just got a whole lot gayer!

As if it wasn't already "way homo" the way that they pronounce their S's, now they're letting gay Spanish people get married (to other Gay Spaniards--lucky you, Antonio Banderas!). Some people see this as a step forward but, really, Spain was voted gayest country in the world 15 years running by its peers. Though, for the past 15 years, the United States has voted for Canada, its vote has paled in comparison to those for Spain. Even France voted for Spain. That's like Richard Simmons calling Elton John a "fag" while he's blowing some dude and jerking off two others (his own "Deal-a-meal" as he calls it).

What's wrong with the United States? These Spanish people still wear capes and fight fucking bulls, yet they're forward-thinking enough to let gay people marry. We, on the other hand, are about to blow a goddamn hole in an asteroid because we can and to show outer space who the fucking man is, yet the thought of two boys kissing is "yucky."

What the fuck?

Interesting thought of the day:
Whenever anything talks on commercials that shouldn't (i.e. babies, animals, women), it is never funny or cute.