facebook (update)

(Update: I’m 119 years old and I don’t understand technology. It doesn’t help that I lost the use of my left side brain at the Battle of Verdun. So forget all of this. It never happened. But I’m leaving this up because some of it is funny. I dunno. Then again I’ve been off my anticonvulsant meds the last few days)

So I was watching The Beastmaster when the Tanya Roberts bathing scene came on. I was about to “master” another “beast” if you know what I mean 😉😉😉 (Rip Torn gets me hot), but then I thought “I should create a Facebook page for my website!”

First, I tried setting up a business page, but Facebook forbids that with WordPress sites or some crap (or I have to buy some add-on, but I ain’t paying for that shit) so I set up a group page instead.

Here’s the link:

(not available)

“Why Facebook?” a question you’re probably not asking.

Because it’s the only social media site that doesn’t make me want to hire a hit man to set me on fire.

So come join! If you don’t then you probably have a tiny penis anyway. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m just saying that you’re less of a man if you don’t join my group.

So if you want to regain your self-respect, you better join the Internet Ruined Everything group and meet other weirdos just like YOU.

baruch “the no spin zone” spinoza

“The world would be happier if men had the same capacity to be silent that they have to speak” -Baruch Spinoza

Ludwig Wittengenstein infamously had a similar quote: “Whereof one cannot speak, one must be silent.”

This is true. There’s no use in filling the air with senseless chatter about things we do not understand.

Like I don’t understand why I got laid off. I’ll spend hours in the basement with a bottle of Jim Beam and a loaded 22. My wife will ask if everything is alright and I’ll respond with “whereof one cannot speak, one must be silent.”

Truer words were never spoken.

4 the record, I do wear masks

I’m only saying this because my posts “i ain’t wearin no masks” is currently my most viewed of the month and almost no interaction.

So I feel the need to explain a bad joke.

I just want to say that there’s nothing to worry about, I was just trying to make a post that would offend everyone. No big deal.

I do wear a KN95 mask when I go into public. BUT, it should also be noted that I was doing that BEFORE the pandemic and will continue to do so long after.

I ONLY go into public incognito.

I ALSO got the vaccination. Again, not because of a “pandemic”, but because I will inject my body with anything at least ONCE. In the case of the vaccination, I did it THREE times (the two initial shots PLUS the booster) because it was that damn good.

Like I said, I don’t believe in overwhelming scientific evidence that says that there’s a raging pandemic going around the world. Science is liberal bullshit.

I’m a Jehovah’s Witness. I have God’s protection.

life is suffering

Remember between the end of the Cold War and 9/11 when such overrated classics like The Matrix, Fight Club, and American Beauty reminded us that we are bored with life and need to escape reality?

Then a few planes crashed into some buildings and everyone was like “how horrible!” but were secretly like “oh thank god! Something interesting is happening in the world” because we’re sick and terrible people?

There’s something deep-seated in the human psyche that draws it towards suffering. It’s like we need it to be reminded that we’re still alive.

It’s sick.

We are sick and terrible people and a meteor needs to strike the earth to put us out of our misery.

But until this happens, we have to occupy the time in between. So don’t forget to install those gutters, paint your walls, and plant those gardens….

Visit the Home Depot…

…How doers get more done!

albert Eisenstein

I sometimes wonder: do people not know when they’re insane?

I mean, obviously if they did know they were crazy, then they wouldn’t be crazy. That makes sense, right?

But has society made insanity somewhat permissible? And has this become apparent to some people but not to others?

I grew up around rich kids. My parents weren’t rich. They liked to think they were but they weren’t. Everyone knew they weren’t rich…at least not as rich as they were…so everyone kinda patted my family on the head and said “nice try, but you’re not in the club”. So I had an unusual upbringing where I was at the bottom of a rather exclusive and rarefied ladder.

I’m not asking for pity, I had it pretty good overall, I’m just saying: I grew up on the outside looking into a party of insane, sociopathic people.

Now all my rich friends are grown up. I don’t talk to any of them, but I CAN Facebook stalk them and what I find is extremely gratifying: many of them have been arrested and/or have drug problems.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been in the same situation, but those were youthful transgressions by comparison. I didn’t have a career or family and people just kinda accepted that I was a drunk asshole. But eventually there came a point where I said: “this is not acceptable” (or rather, a judge said that).

But by looking at the Facebook profiles of a bunch of 30 and 40 year olds, that thought hasn’t occurred to any of them. I mean, how many domestic violence arrests do you need? They do know that bail and attorney fees costs money right? The police are “harassing” you? But you’re white and rich!

Like I said, reading this shit is like Christmas to me. Is my life much better? Maybe not monetarily. But at least I’m not in a state of denial about being an asshole and a menace to society. You can have sympathy for them, but these people contributed to my inferiority complex. So until I get an apology, fuck em.

But I guess when you live in that rarified atmosphere, you can double down on your bad decisions. Some smart guy supposedly once said: “the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” And if you’re rich enough, you can afford to do that.

No I’m not bitter about being condescended to by rich people as a child. I have a lucrative job at the toilet factory and run successful blog. Why should I be jealous?

spreading the good news

So I was taking a shit at work while reading the Bible (I’m a devout Jehovah’s Witness btw) when I ran out of toilet paper.

“Can you get me a roll, Bill?” I asked

“Sure thing buddy!”

Instead of throwing the roll into the stall, he sat it on the bathroom counter. So I had waddle up to the counter with my pants around my ankles and shit in my butt.

The End

we’ll always be together in electric dreams

Ever had a dream that made you wake up laughing?

So I was at a writer’s workshop where some dude was trying to get under my skin. Then we became best friends. Tom Brady also showed up because he was trying to get his acting career started. Why he was at a writer’s workshop was never explained.

Then, like a ghost from the past, appeared an old friend. In real life I haven’t spoken to him in nearly 15 years. His brother was actually my best friend and our friendship ended in the worst possible way: in a courtroom (we both lost btw). It’s one of my biggest regrets, and in truth, I dream about him often.

But his brother shows up, and I confide in him that I think highly of his sibling and I miss them both. In fact, I tell him that I am at this workshop because I am writing a fictionalized version of our friendship.

The Brother tells me that I can’t do that. I ask why and he disappears into a bookstore. I go looking for him and I find him with three small children. I ask him again why I can’t write the book. He tells me that his brother’s dead and that one of these children is his son.

It was a poignant moment in the dream. It reminded me of the passage of time, how we were once small children, and how we are now creating the next generation. I tell the Son of my best friend that I too have a son, how fortunate he is to have his uncle, and that his father was a good man.

The Brother disappears once again, and I help the Child find his uncle. As I walk with the Child, he tells me to not have regrets, and that he hopes to meet my son. I tell him that “that’s a very nice thing to say,” and that I hope they meet someday too.

Finally, we find his uncle standing outside. He’s with two men in suits. I tell the Brother that per his wishes, I won’t write the book. One of the men in suits spoke up and said “that’s a wise decision.”

“Are you an attorney?” I ask.

He nodded.

“What if I changed all the names and events? Can you sue me then?” I said.

“Well clearly he (my best friend) is everything that he’s not,” the lawyer replied. Whatever that meant.

I look over to the Brother. “Did you invite these guys here?” I ask.

He did.

“Well fuck it,” I said. “I’m writing the book.”

I then pointed at the lawyer’s shirt like he had a stain. When he looked down, I lifted my finger up to his face.

“Fuckin loser,” I said.

Then the dream ended.