31 March 2009

Pessimistic Cynic?

Or cynical pessimist?

I don't consider myself to be a negative person.

But as it turns out, I may be one anyway.

I frequently catch myself judging others before getting to know them; judging people based solely on easily observable characteristics. And I'll often assume the worst about someone if they display a trait I consider undesirable. Tattoos visible on your hand or face? Loser. Talking with a thick southern accent about an episode of American Idol? Idiot. Slack-jawed, 300 pound, mu mu wearing woman that looks like if she showered at all, she did it in the bed of a truck rolling through a car wash in fourth gear? Pariah.

My mental judgmental checklist just goes on and on and on and on.

And then, recently, for no discernible reason, I had it out with myself.

"These people are just humans, just like you," my mind told itself. "Nothing more, nothing less. Just people." My brain continued lecturing to itself, "Just like you, they were all born from a mother, and must cope and live in this same world of heartbreak and splendor. You should cut your fellow humans some slack."

"But those people are obviously different from me!" protested negative Krëg (Krëgative). "I'm pretty sure that means they are flawed or evil or retarded or something."
"Right. Shall I run through the lengthy list of the ways YOU are flawed and evil and retarded?"

"Now who's being negative? I thought you were supposed to be some helpful internal monologue of tolerance and reason, not some nagging asshole."
"Quit being a smart ass and listen to yourself (me) for a minute. You need to shut down this judgemental 'holier-than-thou' mentality that's crept into your life as of late. It gains you nothing."

"But don't you think that in some ways my skepticism has protected us? I mean, we (I) haven't made many poor decisions with Mr. Judgmental at the helm. It's not like our friends are crackheads or Libertarians or something. I think my skepticism has put us on the right path."

"There's a difference between being a healthy skeptic and being a horribly negative pessimist. You're (I'm) sliding in the wrong direction. Further, I challenge you to prove any actions put you (me) on the path you're on right now. I'm pretty sure it was just a combination of dumb luck and good timing."

"And let's not even get into some of your trust issues..."
"Hey! I come by those honestly. You remember when..."

"Yes, of course I do."

"Or that shitty year when..."

"Yes, yes. It's not like we inhabit different skulls, dumb ass. Those two events were pretty brutal. And I'm not saying that you should just start running up to random strangers and giving them hugs and pouring out your soul to them. Just maybe lay off the thinking the heavily pierced guy behind the counter at the gas station is a failure. Chances are, he's better than you at four or five things."

"Like mopping up puke or chain-smoking?"

"There you go again with the smart ass cracks. Look, all I'm saying is that perhaps you should just try observing others without assigning judgment. Because if you don't ease up, you stand a strong chance of dying alone and bitter, with people queuing up to water the non-existent flowers on your grave with warm streams of their own urine. And tell me champ, where does THAT little scenario fit into your judgmental world view?"

"Fuck you."

...And so the struggle continues "silently" inside my head, but I'm hoping the tide is turning in favor of a more optimistic Krëg.

Baby steps.

Queen's greatest song. Ever.

30 March 2009

Chow Down

Much like the rest of the non-starving segment of society, whenever I am not asleep I have always tried to eat foods that I enjoy. On occasion, I have even combined a few of my favorite foods in an attempt to create even tastier super-foods (although baconcicles were a disappointment).

But I still can't imagine the depravity necessary to conceive this abomination.

I recognize the individual components as edible, but when combined in this manner they tally up to some incomprehensible un-food. Nothing there looks appetizing. The photo conjures up the exact opposite hunger. It looks like someone barfed on Abe Lincoln's hat.

Perhaps that is one of the tricks to Weight Watchers: make food look so unappealing that people lose the will to eat.

What's the worst combo you've ever seen?

27 March 2009

World Wide WTF

Monday evening, the internet was fully functional at my house. Tuesday evening I was cast out of high-speed Eden and left to wander in the darkness. I don't know why or how it stopped working (and I actually know a thing or two about those magic boxes called "computers"). The computer shows that I am connected, but NO browser (Firefox, IE, Opera, etc.) will connect. So posts here may be short, infrequent, and reflect my grumpy attitude. Pretty much just like always.

The most disgusting development from my lack of home internet is that I've had to substitute imagination for pornography, a choice NO man should ever have to make. The horror.

I'm wondering if having no home access to the world-wide-boobs might be a blessing in disguise. It isn't as if I sit around doing NOTHING other than surfing the net; probably only 10-15% of my at-home, awake hours are spent online. But I've often walked away from the computer feeling that I've accomplished nothing noteworthy. One cannot build meaningful memories in front of a computer monitor.

So I think I'll see where this hiatus takes me. Perhaps in another week, I'll be calling the phone company to pull their service from my house.

...Or maybe I'll be begging them to "Please make the magic box work again!"

Just depends on how well my imagination treats me.

23 March 2009

Bicycle Built For Two

Daisy, Daisy
Give me your answer do

Lots of great answers to the caption/quiz about that flower. Most importantly, THREE of the answers involved breasts. Keep up the good work, gang.

But y'all must not know (or have forgotten) that I'm much more of an ass man (and legs man). When you realize that, the answer becomes obvious. Or maybe it doesn't.

That daisy image is a clinically accurate depiction of Hello Kitty's butthole, rhoids included.

Not pictured: stenches, hemorrhoids, or toilet paper.

Apparently, it's acceptable to sh!t your coveralls, as long as you are on the toilet when it happens.
I'm half crazy all for the love of you

18 March 2009

Caption Quiz

Can anyone tell me what this is?
Best comment gets the prize of knowing you did better than everyone else. What could possibly be more gratifying than that?

13 March 2009

Names On The Brain

Don't know why I've had names on my mind so much lately. Just the craziness of springtime I guess.

For all you expectant white trash mothers, I have compiled a short but excellently themed compendium of suitable names.

Car names that can double as names for your bratty, white trash baby:

TL 500

Contrary to popular belief, Honcho is actually an elitist name.

What possible car/baby names did I forget?

11 March 2009

Nothing To See Here, Move Along.

My world has been fairly predictable and static as of late. As I have nothing new to report, I'll just drop a little funk on you.

06 March 2009


Some may recall that back in September I went to a funeral for a friend and co-worker's mother. His father followed his mother into paradise last night. Greg had been openly optimistic about Gibb's chances for recovery once his health began failing last December. Greg also remarked back in January that 2009 couldn't possibly be as bad as 2008.

Here's hoping 2010 stops shitting directly down your throat, man.


One year ago today I brought home the ugliest damn piano I'd ever laid eyes on. Happy Anniversary, you magnificent atrocity.

03 March 2009

What's In A Name?

Throughout my life I have had the pleasure of hearing some pretty horrible/awesome names, either through my work, or just from meeting new people in social situations. I don't want to strain my shoulder patting myself on the back, but I managed to not burst out laughing or shoot back with a disbelieving "Fuck you!" when I encountered the owners of these bizarre monikers. I'm rather proud of my restraint, especially when I consider how ludicrous (not Ludacris) some of these names are.

My top 5:

Landon Dick
Rodney Woodrow Bohner
Sharon Dix (still my favorite)
Shirley (working for the City of LaVerne, CA)
Major Woodie (a police major)

What's the craziest name YOU'VE ever encountered? Is it worthy of a velvet painting?


Skynyrd's What's Your Name.
Bob & Gene's Your Name.