Man is it ever time to stop fucking around

27 09 2009

Many of you may have noticed this blog has been more or less abandoned in recent months. This is incorrect. I have almost a hundred unposted drafts on this blog that only I can see, and that most anyone couldn’t make any damn sense out of, including myself. One of them just says NET NEUTRALITY FUCKED YOUR AUNT SELMA like fifty times. It doesn’t even have a title other than a bunch of swears hacked up and stuck together end to end to make some sort of unholy portmanteaux that may very well be illegal here in Texas.

There is no viable excuse for me not updating this mother, other than I’ve been in a full-on Bad Funk for going on three straight months. Can’t write, can’t draw, been picking at the guitar like I’ve never seen one and am angry at its appearance. Smoking bad hash like I’m training for a decathlon wherein one of the events is who can cough up the weirdest looking thing.

The girlfriend doesn’t get the whole depression gig, which is probably the best possible way to be. I explained it in my usual scientific way like “it’s when you can’t make yourself do anything and everything sucks”. She seemed satisfied by that answer.

Somehow I managed to write a short screenplay which is being made into a real film to be shown at SXSW, which is like the Warped tour except for people who pay for their own iPhone data plan. 3pm tomorrow I have to go sit in an empty auditorium and watch people try to say lines that I wrote without fucking up too much.

Actually, I didn’t even really write the script. My buddy The Captain showed it to me over the summer while we were watching Watchmen and asked if there was anything I could do to help it. There wasn’t. I ended up rewriting what some college-educated ponce had written down like he had a bet going with a friend about who could make the lamest gay jokes. If he lost that bet, man I don’t ever want to see the winner.

So now I have to go add my .5 cents on the female lead in the picture. All I know is she has to be brunette and a total is-she-gonna-blow-me-or-stab-me-type bitch. If you know anybody like that and can describe that sentence to her without being stabbed, send her our way. Texas State Theatre Auditorium at 3pm. I’ll be the sad dude who smells like bad hash.

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One response

27 12 2011
Sue O'Neill

Hey! I just read your ‘How to Bullshit Your Way Through an Essay’ and have not been able to stop reading your hilarious blogs…I love you. I work at Starbucks most days, editing college essays for foreign students, and am appalled that I didn’t write How to Bullshit…myself. I did ride around smoking some White Widow before I got here today, and thought maybe I was just procrastinating reading, but you are so fucking funny, I think my day is a wash. I’m only up to 2009 in your blogs, but will take a break now to check Amazon to see if you’ve got a book out yet.

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