Today, I will be resting.
Today, I will be trying to figure out all the details from last night.
But, my memory is serving me fairly well so let's see how much I can scrounge up about last night's debauchery.
(I apologize in advance for any spelling/grammar errors, I'm still drunk. At 12:56 P.M.)
Anyways, it starts like this. HORRIBLY. In terms of planning and figuring out what we were going to be doing for the night, I give it two hearty thumbs down. Wait a second, let's back up a tick. The whole purpose of last night was to celebrate my new friend Sam Guyre's 21st birthday. Turns out I drank WAY more than she did. Go figure.
And we're back to the story. So we do a bunch of last second planning, and in the midst of the chaos and confusion, I buy a bottle of UV Blue and begin to drink it straight from the bottle (shows how much of an alcoholic I am). We end up touching base in the hotel room we have set aside for us if push comes to shove. Sam starts getting ready, I start socializing with some new people and chugging said vodka.
Finally, Sam is ready.
After a bit more debate about the itinerary for the evening, we decide to drive down to a local club, Club Inferno. The place is dead. But that's alright, I'm there, so of course it's going to be amazing. It's what I do. Anyways, I make friends with a guy named Bobby (I still don't know where he is or if he ever made it back safe to...wherever), who seems like the perfect guy to buy all of Sam's drinks. Boom, just hooked Sam with a one way pass to the toilet for the rest of the night.
Drinking continues. I eventually convince Alexis to dance with me. She was right, she does suck at dancing. It's ok though, I had enough moves for the both of us.
More drinking, probably up to 6 or 7 AMF's within an hour. I am feeling good. Me and my new Asian best friend Ken Tran, along with Bobby and a few others, are having a great time looking at beautiful women and getting absolutely drunk.
We move to Graycie's, a small bar down the street. By the time we get in though, it's almost time for the joint to close. I pound two more AMF's in an attempt to get me really going. It works.
After Graycie's, we go to someone's house, and problems start popping up. Mainly, a lot of people end up leaving, and it throws a wrench in whatever crappy plans we had at that point. We discuss ideas for a tick, and decide to head to Alexis' house for an after party. Mind you, I am gone at this point. Anyways, I decide to go in the car that's going to the hotel, so I can pick up the remains of my bottle of course. That doesn't happen.
INTERMISSION
Ok, so we're driving back to the hotel, and I am blasted. I decide, even though I don't need to throw up, I'm going to force it on myself, something my buddy Zach G taught me. Well, I get out of the car and proceed to vomit up a substance similar to an anti-freeze slushie. It tasted amazing with the added bile. I do this for all of ten minutes. And since it is Utah in the heart of winter, I am freezing. Literally. So I decide to go inside to the saferoom and warm up while the rest of the crew is finishing up. Worst mistake of the night. As I go in, they go out. And then they leave without me (I'm not blaming anyone, it was just bad timing). So I walk back outside and try to figure out what the crap just happened.
Mind you, it's in the 20's outside, and I'm pacing back in forth in nothing but jeans and a hoodie. I am not ready for this arctic trek. I'm outside for what seems like half of forever, and manage to get some friends to head my way to pick me up. In the meantime, Alexis calls Lauren and tells her to open the door so I can get out of the third ice age happening outside. While I'm waiting for the door to open, I witness a drug deal, or a murder, I'm not sure. I don't even care at this point. My brain has shut down. Finally, I get in the room, and I decide to do what every person does when they're completely faded, text ex's. Bad choice, but I needed to stay awake, so I didn't care.
Eventually, my rescue party arrives. Short story shorter, we decide to go to a house party. I am a little sobered up at this point, so of course I'm down. We get to the residence, and I am ready to engage my hyperfun drives. I get reunited with Ken Tran, who is more than ready to pass out, and a couple others from earlier. Everyone seems to be more drunk than me, which I am proud of, being the alcoholic I am (Mom, Dad, if you're reading this, I'm not an alcoholic, no worries). Anyways, we start playing some card games, and continue to drink. Heavily. I throw up in the bathroom, and of course, keep playing the game. Eventually, I win like a boss with a hand that NEVER happens. Ever. Seriously. I am ready to pass out at this point. So I find Alexis, who is also a bit intoxicated, and I pass out on her shoulder for all of who knows how long.
This pretty much ends the night. We organize a ride back to Alexis' house, I arrive, I flatline until about two hours ago. I am still drunk. I am still amazing. This is my life, and it's getting higher by the minute.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
Brand New
Do you remember little Johnny from down on the corner?
Yeah, he died last week of a drug overdose.
And young Susie, who used to pick flowers from our yard?
Did you know she committed suicide last year?
The world's falling down around us,
yet here we stand,
facing hand in hand.
And I'm begging everyone out there,
to anyone who's listening,
to look around and see the light,
the stars in the middle of the night.
Break free of your rusty old cages,
shake off the decrepit decaying chains of oppression,
scrape off the rust,
shake off the dust,
and do something that's a whole lot of fun,
and maybe a little dangerous.
Tell the preachers and the teachers,
the messiahs and the creatures,
the Susies and the Johnnies,
the Bretts and the Bonnies,
tell them to leave you to your fate.
Tell it to the newsman,
the taxman,
the lame man and the stray man,
the winners and the losers,
the victims and the choosers,
this is your life.
And take everything you love,
and everything you hate,
ball it up and throw it in the bin,
like this messy writ sheet of paper.
Light the world up in flames,
not of destruction,
but of warmth and healing,
because there's not enough caring,
and there's not enough feeling,
and the stomach of the mechanical monster shall be set reeling,
in an attempt to cover up our crimes of joy and the highs we're dealing,
Who are you waving that flag for?
In remembrance of the Susiesand Johnnies?
Because I want to remember us as free and wild,
with the strength of ten men and the mind of a child.
I want to remember the innocence we threw away,
in exchange for drugs and minimum pay.
I want to speak of the tales of old,
where good men sought dames instead of false gold.
So tell this to any Susie you meet,
and to any Johnny you greet,
stay a while,
crack a smile.
And if it doesn't get any better,
start again,
brand new.
Yeah, he died last week of a drug overdose.
And young Susie, who used to pick flowers from our yard?
Did you know she committed suicide last year?
The world's falling down around us,
yet here we stand,
facing hand in hand.
And I'm begging everyone out there,
to anyone who's listening,
to look around and see the light,
the stars in the middle of the night.
Break free of your rusty old cages,
shake off the decrepit decaying chains of oppression,
scrape off the rust,
shake off the dust,
and do something that's a whole lot of fun,
and maybe a little dangerous.
Tell the preachers and the teachers,
the messiahs and the creatures,
the Susies and the Johnnies,
the Bretts and the Bonnies,
tell them to leave you to your fate.
Tell it to the newsman,
the taxman,
the lame man and the stray man,
the winners and the losers,
the victims and the choosers,
this is your life.
And take everything you love,
and everything you hate,
ball it up and throw it in the bin,
like this messy writ sheet of paper.
Light the world up in flames,
not of destruction,
but of warmth and healing,
because there's not enough caring,
and there's not enough feeling,
and the stomach of the mechanical monster shall be set reeling,
in an attempt to cover up our crimes of joy and the highs we're dealing,
Who are you waving that flag for?
In remembrance of the Susiesand Johnnies?
Because I want to remember us as free and wild,
with the strength of ten men and the mind of a child.
I want to remember the innocence we threw away,
in exchange for drugs and minimum pay.
I want to speak of the tales of old,
where good men sought dames instead of false gold.
So tell this to any Susie you meet,
and to any Johnny you greet,
stay a while,
crack a smile.
And if it doesn't get any better,
start again,
brand new.
Monday, December 12, 2011
The Next Generation
This is coming straight off the top of my head, so I apologize in advance for any cluttering.
That being said, let's talk about children and XBox. To start off with, I believe that children absolutely have a right to play XBox. It can develop mental capabilities, increase brain-muscular circulation, so on and so forth. There are great games out there for kids to play, Guitar Hero, sports games, anything on Kinect, the list keeps going. Modern Warfare 3 is NOT an appropriate game for children. Especially online. Even more so if they have a headset on.
This isn't a warning to parents, this is a bulletin to the children (and anyone who acts like a child, you know who you are) on XBox Live. I want to give you a few rules to follow (again, this goes for everyone) that will increase everyone's desire to play with you.
Here we go:
Having a microphone on your ear does not make it open mic night. You are not a good singer. You are definitely not a good rapper. And no, I do not want to hear Justin Bieber blaring through my headset because you think his magical singing powers will help you do better. They won't. You suck regardless.
Whining EVERY time you die. I get it. Sometimes people camp. Sometimes your Internet is slow. Most of the time though, it's because you yet again suck. A little frustration is okay. It's understandable. I do it sometimes when I'm getting stomped. I'm just saying, pump the brakes. If you get mad over a videogame that easily, you're not going to live long. Your stress levels will be through the roof for the rest of your life.
If you don't think you suck, you suck. Too many times have I heard eight year olds tell me that they're in the MLG. No. You're not. Your K/D ratio proves that. There's no need to be cocky on XBox, no one cares. 90% of us are there to have fun, not see who's scoreboard is more impressive. Get a life.
Don't quit halfway through the game. Even if you're doing horrible. I've seen enough comebacks from the opposing team to know that anybody can win at the last second. If you quit playing one match, why are you playing any matches?Wait until the game is over, then leave the lobby. Maybe if you were paying more attention to the game instead of singing out of key, you'd be doing better anyway.
Enough with the side conversations. If you're talking to your "BFF" next to you, turn off the mic. I don't care about how mean your teachers are, or how cute you think your girlfriend is. She's the same age as you, and she hasn't hit puberty yet. You're clones. If you're going to talk during a game, talk about the game. If you have no strategies to share with anyone, don't talk. If you do, feel free to share. It's a group effort. What I don't need is a good team trying to communicate a plan, and the sound of your prepubescent voice overshadowing everything.
Don't try and get in an argument with me. Trust me. I will verbally destroy you. I have no sympathy. I am a full fledged nerd, and talking trash on Call of Duty is what I do best. Don't give me a reason to start.
Don't yell into the mic. We can hear you just fine unfortunately. If we can't, we'll tell you to speak up. The last thing I need is to go deaf from a kid who's a third of my age.
Remember, playing Call of Duty is a priviledge, especially for you, since I know for a fact you're not old enough to legally play this game. Treat everyone with respect, and we'll give you the same amount. Golden rule. You should have learned that by now.
In the loading screen, when you can't see who's talking, we know it's you talking. You're the only person that has the voice box of a canary. It's pretty obvious.
If you're funny, by all means, crack a joke or two. If you're not funny, stop trying to be funny. Just stop.
Don't be a hypocrite. You can't complain about the camper who just shot your face off when I watched you camp for the last five games, and still lose the game for us. Once again, you suck.
Finally, if you're playing on hardcore, do NOT use martyrdom. I will hurt you. And do not team kill. I will hurt you even more.
Well, that's it. I know a lot of these points are somewhat repetitive in nature, and very disorganized, but you'll have to deal with it. I'm supposed to be working right now.
That being said, let's talk about children and XBox. To start off with, I believe that children absolutely have a right to play XBox. It can develop mental capabilities, increase brain-muscular circulation, so on and so forth. There are great games out there for kids to play, Guitar Hero, sports games, anything on Kinect, the list keeps going. Modern Warfare 3 is NOT an appropriate game for children. Especially online. Even more so if they have a headset on.
This isn't a warning to parents, this is a bulletin to the children (and anyone who acts like a child, you know who you are) on XBox Live. I want to give you a few rules to follow (again, this goes for everyone) that will increase everyone's desire to play with you.
Here we go:
Having a microphone on your ear does not make it open mic night. You are not a good singer. You are definitely not a good rapper. And no, I do not want to hear Justin Bieber blaring through my headset because you think his magical singing powers will help you do better. They won't. You suck regardless.
Whining EVERY time you die. I get it. Sometimes people camp. Sometimes your Internet is slow. Most of the time though, it's because you yet again suck. A little frustration is okay. It's understandable. I do it sometimes when I'm getting stomped. I'm just saying, pump the brakes. If you get mad over a videogame that easily, you're not going to live long. Your stress levels will be through the roof for the rest of your life.
If you don't think you suck, you suck. Too many times have I heard eight year olds tell me that they're in the MLG. No. You're not. Your K/D ratio proves that. There's no need to be cocky on XBox, no one cares. 90% of us are there to have fun, not see who's scoreboard is more impressive. Get a life.
Don't quit halfway through the game. Even if you're doing horrible. I've seen enough comebacks from the opposing team to know that anybody can win at the last second. If you quit playing one match, why are you playing any matches?Wait until the game is over, then leave the lobby. Maybe if you were paying more attention to the game instead of singing out of key, you'd be doing better anyway.
Enough with the side conversations. If you're talking to your "BFF" next to you, turn off the mic. I don't care about how mean your teachers are, or how cute you think your girlfriend is. She's the same age as you, and she hasn't hit puberty yet. You're clones. If you're going to talk during a game, talk about the game. If you have no strategies to share with anyone, don't talk. If you do, feel free to share. It's a group effort. What I don't need is a good team trying to communicate a plan, and the sound of your prepubescent voice overshadowing everything.
Don't try and get in an argument with me. Trust me. I will verbally destroy you. I have no sympathy. I am a full fledged nerd, and talking trash on Call of Duty is what I do best. Don't give me a reason to start.
Don't yell into the mic. We can hear you just fine unfortunately. If we can't, we'll tell you to speak up. The last thing I need is to go deaf from a kid who's a third of my age.
Remember, playing Call of Duty is a priviledge, especially for you, since I know for a fact you're not old enough to legally play this game. Treat everyone with respect, and we'll give you the same amount. Golden rule. You should have learned that by now.
In the loading screen, when you can't see who's talking, we know it's you talking. You're the only person that has the voice box of a canary. It's pretty obvious.
If you're funny, by all means, crack a joke or two. If you're not funny, stop trying to be funny. Just stop.
Don't be a hypocrite. You can't complain about the camper who just shot your face off when I watched you camp for the last five games, and still lose the game for us. Once again, you suck.
Finally, if you're playing on hardcore, do NOT use martyrdom. I will hurt you. And do not team kill. I will hurt you even more.
Well, that's it. I know a lot of these points are somewhat repetitive in nature, and very disorganized, but you'll have to deal with it. I'm supposed to be working right now.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
A Continuation of Aggravated Emotions.
Alright people, check it out. If you're still here, you made the first cut. The other people who didn't, it's because they didn't have the backbone to withstand some good old fashioned truth. Screw them. Let's get this party started.
Facebook Retards:
Let me explain something. This is not directed at "mentally challenged" people. Why do I have mentally challenged in quotes? Because some of you out there make these people look like they were Einstein's prodigal sons and daughters. Most idiots, I can tolerate on a regular basis. But no, they had to make the Internet a public access system, where anyone with a metal spoon and copper wire can connect to the World Weetarded Web. Don't know if your friend (or evenworse, yourself) is a Facebook retard?
Here's some sure-fire ways to find out:
(Note: this list is NOT finished, I'll find others and hunt them down)
1). Gratuitous amounts of spelling errors. One or two I can deal with. You're on the go, and I make mistakes typing with my phone too (believe it or not, I make mistakes). It's when you're over-the-top blatantly retarded that I consider you over-the-top blatantly retarded.
2). People who put "like my status" in their status...
I...
HATE...
YOU...
Nothing says I'm a stupid megalomaniac waste of space quite like this. That's like giving a speech at a funeral, bringing a megaphone, and screaming into it, 'GIVE ME A STANDING OVATION AFTER THIS SPEECH THAT HAS NOTHING OF INTELLECTUAL VALUE!!!'
Go die now please.
3). People who's profile pictures consist of a mirror, a crazy angle, and a dirty bathroom wall.
You. Are. A. Loser.
Ok I get it girls, sometimes you just want to show off your new dress, or stick your cleavage in our faces. I'm ok with that. However, I see no other reason to take a toilet picture (that's my new name for them, clever). If you're a dude, and you're FLEXING WITH YOUR SHIRT OFF, the Wicked Witch of The Ripyourhomosexualtesticlesoff South is going to visit you in your self righteous dreams, and well, let's just say she earned that name for a reason. Get some friends, go to parties, have a designated cameraman. Hell, it'll give the DD something to do anyways. Get a picture somewhere besides your mom's bathroom for the love of all that is socially acceptable.
4) People who post their problems on Facebook, and when asked what's wrong, they say they don't want to talk about it. This is why they made diaries you retard. To keep things personal. Not the WORLD WIDE WORLD WIDE WOOOOORRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLDDDDDD WIIIIIDDDDDEEEEEEEE web. I hate you, you hypocritical piece of drama school failure.
5) This is the last one for the day, although I think I like the idea of these lists. Might have to make a separate blog for all my sarcastic spite. Anyways, back to the hatred.
People who poke. WTF is the point of a poke? To get my attention? I thought that's what my Wall was for. And what's this? You're mad that I didn't poke you back? How about I backhand you in 1020x768 pixels! Don't ever poke me if you want to stay friends with me. I don't like being poked. I get defensive. Leave me alone.
Facebook Retards:
Let me explain something. This is not directed at "mentally challenged" people. Why do I have mentally challenged in quotes? Because some of you out there make these people look like they were Einstein's prodigal sons and daughters. Most idiots, I can tolerate on a regular basis. But no, they had to make the Internet a public access system, where anyone with a metal spoon and copper wire can connect to the World Weetarded Web. Don't know if your friend (or evenworse, yourself) is a Facebook retard?
Here's some sure-fire ways to find out:
(Note: this list is NOT finished, I'll find others and hunt them down)
1). Gratuitous amounts of spelling errors. One or two I can deal with. You're on the go, and I make mistakes typing with my phone too (believe it or not, I make mistakes). It's when you're over-the-top blatantly retarded that I consider you over-the-top blatantly retarded.
2). People who put "like my status" in their status...
I...
HATE...
YOU...
Nothing says I'm a stupid megalomaniac waste of space quite like this. That's like giving a speech at a funeral, bringing a megaphone, and screaming into it, 'GIVE ME A STANDING OVATION AFTER THIS SPEECH THAT HAS NOTHING OF INTELLECTUAL VALUE!!!'
Go die now please.
3). People who's profile pictures consist of a mirror, a crazy angle, and a dirty bathroom wall.
You. Are. A. Loser.
Ok I get it girls, sometimes you just want to show off your new dress, or stick your cleavage in our faces. I'm ok with that. However, I see no other reason to take a toilet picture (that's my new name for them, clever). If you're a dude, and you're FLEXING WITH YOUR SHIRT OFF, the Wicked Witch of The Ripyourhomosexualtesticlesoff South is going to visit you in your self righteous dreams, and well, let's just say she earned that name for a reason. Get some friends, go to parties, have a designated cameraman. Hell, it'll give the DD something to do anyways. Get a picture somewhere besides your mom's bathroom for the love of all that is socially acceptable.
4) People who post their problems on Facebook, and when asked what's wrong, they say they don't want to talk about it. This is why they made diaries you retard. To keep things personal. Not the WORLD WIDE WORLD WIDE WOOOOORRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLDDDDDD WIIIIIDDDDDEEEEEEEE web. I hate you, you hypocritical piece of drama school failure.
5) This is the last one for the day, although I think I like the idea of these lists. Might have to make a separate blog for all my sarcastic spite. Anyways, back to the hatred.
People who poke. WTF is the point of a poke? To get my attention? I thought that's what my Wall was for. And what's this? You're mad that I didn't poke you back? How about I backhand you in 1020x768 pixels! Don't ever poke me if you want to stay friends with me. I don't like being poked. I get defensive. Leave me alone.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Above the World
Today is momentous for numerous reasons to me. "Why is it momentous to you Tyler?"
Oh, I'll tell you why. December 7th is a day not to be forgotten.
First and foremost, today we remember and honor the 70th anniversary of the tragedy known as the bombing of Pearl Harbor. My thanks and goodwill go out to the victims and families of the ones lost in this terrible happening, servicemember and civilian alike. The repercussions of your loss are still felt around this great nation, and may you never go forgotten.
Secondly, on a less melancholy note, my flight itinerary for leave has been finalized. It's Christmas time, and I now have the means to celebrate it properly. Starting next Friday, I will be taking to the roads on a long, yet amazing trip to Utah. It'll be a fantastic time, and I'm thoroughly excited. Unfortunately, this means I won't be able to see any of my friends in Missouri or New York until I'm a civilian again. Sorry boys and girls, but this is my last chance to travel someplace new for a long time, and I refuse to let it pass me by.
And finally, today we celebrate the birth of Frank, my drumset. Together Frank and I will shake the corridors of these barracks with a frightening thunder, regardless of noise pollution. For any of you that know me beyond face value, you know how significant this is to me. This has been far too overdue, and now it's finally time I find some inner peace. By beating the crap out of something. It's how I roll.
Minus the work-related stress that was piled on me this morning, today gets a rating of three thumbs up. How is that possible? I'll answer that next time, when I finally peel myself away from Frank.
Rock on friends!
Oh, I'll tell you why. December 7th is a day not to be forgotten.
First and foremost, today we remember and honor the 70th anniversary of the tragedy known as the bombing of Pearl Harbor. My thanks and goodwill go out to the victims and families of the ones lost in this terrible happening, servicemember and civilian alike. The repercussions of your loss are still felt around this great nation, and may you never go forgotten.
Secondly, on a less melancholy note, my flight itinerary for leave has been finalized. It's Christmas time, and I now have the means to celebrate it properly. Starting next Friday, I will be taking to the roads on a long, yet amazing trip to Utah. It'll be a fantastic time, and I'm thoroughly excited. Unfortunately, this means I won't be able to see any of my friends in Missouri or New York until I'm a civilian again. Sorry boys and girls, but this is my last chance to travel someplace new for a long time, and I refuse to let it pass me by.
And finally, today we celebrate the birth of Frank, my drumset. Together Frank and I will shake the corridors of these barracks with a frightening thunder, regardless of noise pollution. For any of you that know me beyond face value, you know how significant this is to me. This has been far too overdue, and now it's finally time I find some inner peace. By beating the crap out of something. It's how I roll.
Minus the work-related stress that was piled on me this morning, today gets a rating of three thumbs up. How is that possible? I'll answer that next time, when I finally peel myself away from Frank.
Rock on friends!
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Undisclosed Desires
This is my overdue rant. Now, before this carnival of fury begins, I'll lay down some ground rules so everyone understands what's going on, and there's no confusion.
1) Feelings will get hurt, and I hope they do. I want these words to carry some power, and maybe it'll help some people get their lives a little more organized and prioritized.
2) Yes, this is mainly a complaint about people complaining. Hypothetical? Maybe. But this is MY blog. You are MY guest. You will play according to MY rules. My is capitalized to show ownership, me being the owner. While you're on this page, you belong to me. If you don't like it, go kick rocks.
3) If you question MY (there it is again, must be important) opinion, I will verbally destroy you in front of your loved ones and friends. I have that power.
So, without further hesitation, let the s*** show begin.
Starting with:
FAT PEOPLE-
Ok, let me explain. I don't have a problem with normal fat people. Definition of normal fat person? Jolly bigger person, reminiscent of old Saint Nick. If you can accept your weight and yourself for who you are, good on you. Kudos, and here's my respect.
HOWEVER!
If you complain about your weight, and act jealous of all the slender girls/fit guys, who you insist on labelling as "anorexic" or "on steroids," we're going to have problems. How dare you insult them for their superior physique when you clearly can't take care of yours. They work hard to maintain their athleticism. Instead of being jealous, why don't you just try running? It'll make you feel good, I promise.
EMO KIDS-
I embrace some aspects of this lifestyle and psyche. SOME. I respect the new musical genre it's birthed, and I'm glad that more teenagers these days are expressing their feelings.
HOWEVER!
For starters, you're expressing the wrong feelings. Who celebrates sadness and depression? No one respectable! You're crazy. Why don't you celebrate fun and laughter, by having more fun and laughing more frequently? That's a pretty nice lifestyle right there!
And why are you sad in the first place? Is your girlfriend/boyfriend breaking up with you enough to make you wear all black and start cutting your wrists? Because if that's all it takes, you better have a really good knife, because you're going to be cutting for a LONG time. Life sucks sometimes. Get over it whiner. Two weeks into deployment, I found out one of my best friends just got blown up by an IED. They wouldn't let me go for a week to see him, even though we weren't doing anything useful yet. Oh well, there's nothing I can do. I have to keep moving. Grow up children, and see the world for its ample beauty, and not its few shortfalls.
BAD SPELLERS AND GRAMMAR OFFENDERS!!!
I want you all to die. Seriously. There is no redeeming quality here. Some of you may know that one of my Facebook activities is to very rudely point out bad typing. Whether it's poor spelling, horrible grammar, or both, I will make sure you look like an idiot. Because you are. And when you get mad, I get even happier, trust me. I am what they call a troll/flamer. I get a rise out of people getting angry at me. Especially when you try to argue with me, that's the best. The Internet is my specialty. I will embarass you severely all over your Facebook wall. DO NOT mess with me on the Internet. If I correct you on something, trust me when I say I'm right. I'm kind of smart. Don't get offended, you just learned something for free. If you do get offended, shut up and move on. If you decide to have the audacity to call me out, you better come packing some heat, because I will make your head spin.
Alright, this is getting pretty long. I'll split it up for now, and carry it over to another session. If you're angry already, just stop coming here, it's only going to get worse. As for the rest of my intelligent and thought producing readers, I hope you were entertained. You, the thinking few, deserve some food and joy for thought. I hope I can continue to provide.
1) Feelings will get hurt, and I hope they do. I want these words to carry some power, and maybe it'll help some people get their lives a little more organized and prioritized.
2) Yes, this is mainly a complaint about people complaining. Hypothetical? Maybe. But this is MY blog. You are MY guest. You will play according to MY rules. My is capitalized to show ownership, me being the owner. While you're on this page, you belong to me. If you don't like it, go kick rocks.
3) If you question MY (there it is again, must be important) opinion, I will verbally destroy you in front of your loved ones and friends. I have that power.
So, without further hesitation, let the s*** show begin.
Starting with:
FAT PEOPLE-
Ok, let me explain. I don't have a problem with normal fat people. Definition of normal fat person? Jolly bigger person, reminiscent of old Saint Nick. If you can accept your weight and yourself for who you are, good on you. Kudos, and here's my respect.
HOWEVER!
If you complain about your weight, and act jealous of all the slender girls/fit guys, who you insist on labelling as "anorexic" or "on steroids," we're going to have problems. How dare you insult them for their superior physique when you clearly can't take care of yours. They work hard to maintain their athleticism. Instead of being jealous, why don't you just try running? It'll make you feel good, I promise.
EMO KIDS-
I embrace some aspects of this lifestyle and psyche. SOME. I respect the new musical genre it's birthed, and I'm glad that more teenagers these days are expressing their feelings.
HOWEVER!
For starters, you're expressing the wrong feelings. Who celebrates sadness and depression? No one respectable! You're crazy. Why don't you celebrate fun and laughter, by having more fun and laughing more frequently? That's a pretty nice lifestyle right there!
And why are you sad in the first place? Is your girlfriend/boyfriend breaking up with you enough to make you wear all black and start cutting your wrists? Because if that's all it takes, you better have a really good knife, because you're going to be cutting for a LONG time. Life sucks sometimes. Get over it whiner. Two weeks into deployment, I found out one of my best friends just got blown up by an IED. They wouldn't let me go for a week to see him, even though we weren't doing anything useful yet. Oh well, there's nothing I can do. I have to keep moving. Grow up children, and see the world for its ample beauty, and not its few shortfalls.
BAD SPELLERS AND GRAMMAR OFFENDERS!!!
I want you all to die. Seriously. There is no redeeming quality here. Some of you may know that one of my Facebook activities is to very rudely point out bad typing. Whether it's poor spelling, horrible grammar, or both, I will make sure you look like an idiot. Because you are. And when you get mad, I get even happier, trust me. I am what they call a troll/flamer. I get a rise out of people getting angry at me. Especially when you try to argue with me, that's the best. The Internet is my specialty. I will embarass you severely all over your Facebook wall. DO NOT mess with me on the Internet. If I correct you on something, trust me when I say I'm right. I'm kind of smart. Don't get offended, you just learned something for free. If you do get offended, shut up and move on. If you decide to have the audacity to call me out, you better come packing some heat, because I will make your head spin.
Alright, this is getting pretty long. I'll split it up for now, and carry it over to another session. If you're angry already, just stop coming here, it's only going to get worse. As for the rest of my intelligent and thought producing readers, I hope you were entertained. You, the thinking few, deserve some food and joy for thought. I hope I can continue to provide.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
The Kansas City Shuffle
Well well well, it's been a little while, hasn't it? I hope you haven't forgotten me, because I definitely haven't forgotten about you, my fine feathered friends. I've just been...busy. Yes, busy is the appropriate word here, if not for the appropriate reasons shall we say.
So, here's an update on what's going on in my life, if you don't follow my megalomaniacal facebook profile.
1) I'm getting a drumset. Finally. FINALLY!!! It's only been overdue for about 22 years. My morale and happiness is about to go through the roof because of this.
2) I'm on light duty for another week. My x-rays are showing absolutely nothing. It looks like I haven't healed at all. I still feel fine though. Very unfortunately, that means I have to stay with my current company and unit, and they're complete garbage, so that's quite joyous.
3) I'm going to Utah/Vegas for Christmas. With the unstoppable Nay sisters. It's gonna be a righteous gig, and I'm very very stoked about it all. There will be dancing and snow and pictures galore!
4) I made ANOTHER best friend. Here's looking at you, Mrs. Ashley Stevens. Yeah, whatever, we've been friends for the last year and a half, but now we're just now starting to strengthen that bond, so boom! Bossman Mcgee does what he wants, he doesn't care!
Other than that, my life is pretty standard right now. A lot of XBox to fill the hours, and a lot of music. But as we pull into this next Christmas season, and I become more excited about this time of year than I ever have before, I'll still be thinking about all of you. Don't ever be afraid to talk to me. I am always here, always willing to listen, and laugh, with you.
Merry Pre-Christmas Friends!
Love,
The Captain
So, here's an update on what's going on in my life, if you don't follow my megalomaniacal facebook profile.
1) I'm getting a drumset. Finally. FINALLY!!! It's only been overdue for about 22 years. My morale and happiness is about to go through the roof because of this.
2) I'm on light duty for another week. My x-rays are showing absolutely nothing. It looks like I haven't healed at all. I still feel fine though. Very unfortunately, that means I have to stay with my current company and unit, and they're complete garbage, so that's quite joyous.
3) I'm going to Utah/Vegas for Christmas. With the unstoppable Nay sisters. It's gonna be a righteous gig, and I'm very very stoked about it all. There will be dancing and snow and pictures galore!
4) I made ANOTHER best friend. Here's looking at you, Mrs. Ashley Stevens. Yeah, whatever, we've been friends for the last year and a half, but now we're just now starting to strengthen that bond, so boom! Bossman Mcgee does what he wants, he doesn't care!
Other than that, my life is pretty standard right now. A lot of XBox to fill the hours, and a lot of music. But as we pull into this next Christmas season, and I become more excited about this time of year than I ever have before, I'll still be thinking about all of you. Don't ever be afraid to talk to me. I am always here, always willing to listen, and laugh, with you.
Merry Pre-Christmas Friends!
Love,
The Captain
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Day of Major Heresy
Ok, so I missed Thanksgiving. Again. So, I've decided it's time to make my own holiday. It shall take place on the 27th of November, not every year, but only on odd numbered years. Every other holiday is lame and celebrates every year. I say nay. My holiday will be different. More information about this Holiday will be posted soon, as soon as I'm done coming up with it.
I suppose though, in light of missing Thanksgiving, I should give thanks to those and these that matter to me.
HERE WE GO!!!
One: I'm thankful to be alive. No one, and I mean no one, ever seems to say this. How in the crap can you be thankful for something if you're not alive?! Crazy. So, first and foremost, I'm thankful for my life and my good health (although sometimes that is very questionable).
Two: I'm thankful for music. Again. Without music, I wouldn't be alive, so it kind of works together with number one. Today was a good music year for me, what with the drop of the new albums from the Foo Fighters, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, as well as Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros. I also got to help produce a few songs, and learn things about recording that I never knew, which I think is awesome.
Three: I'm thankful for friends. Music saved my life, but you guys are the reason I stay around. Due to deployment, I didn't have the chance to make many new friends this year, but the friendships I did make are some of the best I've ever had. Here's a shout out to the wonderful Nay sisters, the wonderful Mrs. Ashley Stevens, Corrie (soon to be) Kovar, Hector DeLeon, Rory Grouse, and too many others to remember. Although I only see you all every so often, I love and miss you all dearly.
Four: I'm thankful for the multitude of life lessons I learned this year. As everyone probably knows, I was engaged this year. Sort of. Anyways, it didn't work out. Which kind of sucked a good bit, but everything happens for a reason, and it's just one more story to add to my crazy book of life. Maybe it'll make us stronger in the end, but who knows? All that matters is that right now, I'm doing me, and it feels good, and I'm becoming a better man inside because of it.
Five: I'm thankful for Madden's safe delivery. Last night, Christin gave birth to Madden. Everyone is perfectly fine and healthy. For some reason, I worry myself to death about these things, so it was a ginormous relief when I heard everything went well. Congratulations Chris, I knew you could do it.
Six: Family. For the first time in years, I'm thankful for family. I don't want to delve too much into this, because I'll end up beating myself up pretty wicked, but I love you guys, and that's all that matters.
Seven. I'm thankful, finally, for me. Every year I'm a little bit different than I was the year before. This year is probably one of my favorite models of me, and I feel as if I'm only going to get better as a man, as a musician, as an entertainer, as everything. I've got big things coming for me, bigger than anyone can imagine. And to you I say, it would be wonderful if you were to join me on this ride.
I suppose though, in light of missing Thanksgiving, I should give thanks to those and these that matter to me.
HERE WE GO!!!
One: I'm thankful to be alive. No one, and I mean no one, ever seems to say this. How in the crap can you be thankful for something if you're not alive?! Crazy. So, first and foremost, I'm thankful for my life and my good health (although sometimes that is very questionable).
Two: I'm thankful for music. Again. Without music, I wouldn't be alive, so it kind of works together with number one. Today was a good music year for me, what with the drop of the new albums from the Foo Fighters, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, as well as Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros. I also got to help produce a few songs, and learn things about recording that I never knew, which I think is awesome.
Three: I'm thankful for friends. Music saved my life, but you guys are the reason I stay around. Due to deployment, I didn't have the chance to make many new friends this year, but the friendships I did make are some of the best I've ever had. Here's a shout out to the wonderful Nay sisters, the wonderful Mrs. Ashley Stevens, Corrie (soon to be) Kovar, Hector DeLeon, Rory Grouse, and too many others to remember. Although I only see you all every so often, I love and miss you all dearly.
Four: I'm thankful for the multitude of life lessons I learned this year. As everyone probably knows, I was engaged this year. Sort of. Anyways, it didn't work out. Which kind of sucked a good bit, but everything happens for a reason, and it's just one more story to add to my crazy book of life. Maybe it'll make us stronger in the end, but who knows? All that matters is that right now, I'm doing me, and it feels good, and I'm becoming a better man inside because of it.
Five: I'm thankful for Madden's safe delivery. Last night, Christin gave birth to Madden. Everyone is perfectly fine and healthy. For some reason, I worry myself to death about these things, so it was a ginormous relief when I heard everything went well. Congratulations Chris, I knew you could do it.
Six: Family. For the first time in years, I'm thankful for family. I don't want to delve too much into this, because I'll end up beating myself up pretty wicked, but I love you guys, and that's all that matters.
Seven. I'm thankful, finally, for me. Every year I'm a little bit different than I was the year before. This year is probably one of my favorite models of me, and I feel as if I'm only going to get better as a man, as a musician, as an entertainer, as everything. I've got big things coming for me, bigger than anyone can imagine. And to you I say, it would be wonderful if you were to join me on this ride.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Fly, Dragon, Fly!
You ever have one of those moments when you're trying to wirte/type/say something, and nothing intelligent comes to mind? Well, if you haven't already guessed it, this is one of those moments for me.Writer's block. Brain fart. Whatever you call it, it's essecntially the artists' demon.
But wait, how do you recover from this heinous condition? Honestly, I'm not one hundred percent sure of a guaranteed remedy.
But I do have one trick, one solitary weapon against my brain drain.
So without further ado, I present to you, for the first time on the Internet...
BRAIN SCRIBBLES!!!
(cue applause)
What is Brain Scribbles? A simple exercise I crafted to get me thinking creatively. All you do is right down WHATEVER comes to mind. No exceptions. No matter how stupid, perverse, or disgusting it is, wite it down.
So...
Here...
We...
GO!!!
Godsmack...not liking the direction they took with their more recent albums. Same with Disturbed. I love Skyrim. I could use an apple. Thank God for tea. And Samantha-no, just no. That is a crazy sticker on my hard drive! So many cables here, with no ports. Not enough violin players in th world. I have weapons maintenance today. Nope, I'll say right here in the safety of my castle. F*** the police, f*** f*** the police. Rage Against the Machine- just a bunch of whiney musicins. And Billie Joel Armstrong can suck a mean one. Hey there, Mr. Hot Dog Man! I still have paint on my flak. It was a gift Todd, I'm taking it with me. Wal-Mart bag?! You're crazy! Youtube is probably the easiest way to become famous these days. Daniel Tosh is one of my personal heroes. I wish I could be a raging a**hole some days. I'm tired of having glass shatter everywhere. So much dust here.Better get all of it!Why are YOUR shoes on MY side of the room?! Hmm, I should probably get my key fixed. Oh my, I just remembered Yakima. Not as bad as Hawaii. That place is worse than Vietnam. TWO bottles of Vaseline?! Whoa ho ho, that's legit! I need to fill up my power outlets. I wonder if she'll keep the rings or throw them away. Who's brain just started spinning? I need to find my other shoe, it's not safe to walk around half shoe-less. I have beer! Personal success! That waffle was not as sublime as I was hoping it would be this morning. But that's ok, I have raspberry tea now! Sha-bang!!! Concert, concert, concert, concert! Text message, who's it from? Alexis...hi Alexis, check it out! I'm double texting you! Pow pow! I wonder how Katie's doing...HA! Murray's Hair Cream. It's for black people but they have two crackers on the can!I wonder if I can get Kourtney to read this, she'd appreciate it. I got called Big Poppa last night. Life is good. Go Freck yourself!
Well, that's all I have to say about that. To my disciples out there, your homework is to fill up a page with brain scribbles. Have a wonderful day!
Song of the day:
"Flagpole Sitta"-by Harvey Danger
But wait, how do you recover from this heinous condition? Honestly, I'm not one hundred percent sure of a guaranteed remedy.
But I do have one trick, one solitary weapon against my brain drain.
So without further ado, I present to you, for the first time on the Internet...
BRAIN SCRIBBLES!!!
(cue applause)
What is Brain Scribbles? A simple exercise I crafted to get me thinking creatively. All you do is right down WHATEVER comes to mind. No exceptions. No matter how stupid, perverse, or disgusting it is, wite it down.
So...
Here...
We...
GO!!!
Godsmack...not liking the direction they took with their more recent albums. Same with Disturbed. I love Skyrim. I could use an apple. Thank God for tea. And Samantha-no, just no. That is a crazy sticker on my hard drive! So many cables here, with no ports. Not enough violin players in th world. I have weapons maintenance today. Nope, I'll say right here in the safety of my castle. F*** the police, f*** f*** the police. Rage Against the Machine- just a bunch of whiney musicins. And Billie Joel Armstrong can suck a mean one. Hey there, Mr. Hot Dog Man! I still have paint on my flak. It was a gift Todd, I'm taking it with me. Wal-Mart bag?! You're crazy! Youtube is probably the easiest way to become famous these days. Daniel Tosh is one of my personal heroes. I wish I could be a raging a**hole some days. I'm tired of having glass shatter everywhere. So much dust here.Better get all of it!Why are YOUR shoes on MY side of the room?! Hmm, I should probably get my key fixed. Oh my, I just remembered Yakima. Not as bad as Hawaii. That place is worse than Vietnam. TWO bottles of Vaseline?! Whoa ho ho, that's legit! I need to fill up my power outlets. I wonder if she'll keep the rings or throw them away. Who's brain just started spinning? I need to find my other shoe, it's not safe to walk around half shoe-less. I have beer! Personal success! That waffle was not as sublime as I was hoping it would be this morning. But that's ok, I have raspberry tea now! Sha-bang!!! Concert, concert, concert, concert! Text message, who's it from? Alexis...hi Alexis, check it out! I'm double texting you! Pow pow! I wonder how Katie's doing...HA! Murray's Hair Cream. It's for black people but they have two crackers on the can!I wonder if I can get Kourtney to read this, she'd appreciate it. I got called Big Poppa last night. Life is good. Go Freck yourself!
Well, that's all I have to say about that. To my disciples out there, your homework is to fill up a page with brain scribbles. Have a wonderful day!
Song of the day:
"Flagpole Sitta"-by Harvey Danger
Saturday, November 19, 2011
The Wood Stove Blues
I don't know about you, but I'm getting excited for Christmas. "But Tyler, don't you get excited for every Christmas?" You're damn right I do!!! Best holiday there is! Except maybe good ole St. Patty's Day. Embrace the Irish!
Anyways, people are complaining because others are excited for Christmas, even though Thanksgiving hasn't gotten here yet. Screw Thanksgiving! Seriously, screw Thanksgiving. Granted, I love food. I love football. And I love weeks upon weeks of leftovers. But seriously, Thanksgiving doesn't hold a torch to Christmas.
Let's look at their history and coming of birth, shall we?
Thanksgiving: an autumn feast comprised of the harvest of the passing year, combined between the stocks of the Native Amricans, and the foreign Europeans. It was a time of bonding, and frivolities. That's pretty neat, I'll say that much. I'm all about brotherhood. But we know where the story goes from here. White man decides they need more land, so in order to quench their insatiable appetite for power, they rape, plunder, kill, and annihilate tribes upon tribes of Native Americans, driving them into designated "reservations." I for one, do NOT want to celebrate to that. Tsk tsk whitey, tsk tsk.
Christmas: Christmas has a double meaning, because it's that awesome. One, the birth day of Christ. Kind of a big deal. He did that whole dying for our sins thing. Pretty cool move. I like his style. Second, the celebration of the life and deeds of St. Niklaus. Don't know who this guy was? Google it, it's quite heartwarming. In the short term, this guy went around, giving gifts to the children of his village who couldn't afford them, asking nothing of them in return. Very groovy baby! And there's so many stories behind Christmas. I remember learning Italian in high school, and hearing the stories of Babbo Natale, the good witch.
Alright, let's just face it. Christmas is the best holiday. Ever. No argument. No other holiday has so many special meanings behind it. This is a holiday that truly belongs to everyone. Anyone can celebrate the season of giving, regardless of your beliefs and your culture. Thanksgiving? Pfft, waste of a holiday. Just a nice day off to remind us how racist we are and how close we are to being supremacists. Good job pilgrims. You guys were assholes.
I'm going to go watch "It's a Charlie Brown Christmas" now. On November 19. One week before Thanksgiving. If you don't like it, get off my blog.
Anyways, people are complaining because others are excited for Christmas, even though Thanksgiving hasn't gotten here yet. Screw Thanksgiving! Seriously, screw Thanksgiving. Granted, I love food. I love football. And I love weeks upon weeks of leftovers. But seriously, Thanksgiving doesn't hold a torch to Christmas.
Let's look at their history and coming of birth, shall we?
Thanksgiving: an autumn feast comprised of the harvest of the passing year, combined between the stocks of the Native Amricans, and the foreign Europeans. It was a time of bonding, and frivolities. That's pretty neat, I'll say that much. I'm all about brotherhood. But we know where the story goes from here. White man decides they need more land, so in order to quench their insatiable appetite for power, they rape, plunder, kill, and annihilate tribes upon tribes of Native Americans, driving them into designated "reservations." I for one, do NOT want to celebrate to that. Tsk tsk whitey, tsk tsk.
Christmas: Christmas has a double meaning, because it's that awesome. One, the birth day of Christ. Kind of a big deal. He did that whole dying for our sins thing. Pretty cool move. I like his style. Second, the celebration of the life and deeds of St. Niklaus. Don't know who this guy was? Google it, it's quite heartwarming. In the short term, this guy went around, giving gifts to the children of his village who couldn't afford them, asking nothing of them in return. Very groovy baby! And there's so many stories behind Christmas. I remember learning Italian in high school, and hearing the stories of Babbo Natale, the good witch.
Alright, let's just face it. Christmas is the best holiday. Ever. No argument. No other holiday has so many special meanings behind it. This is a holiday that truly belongs to everyone. Anyone can celebrate the season of giving, regardless of your beliefs and your culture. Thanksgiving? Pfft, waste of a holiday. Just a nice day off to remind us how racist we are and how close we are to being supremacists. Good job pilgrims. You guys were assholes.
I'm going to go watch "It's a Charlie Brown Christmas" now. On November 19. One week before Thanksgiving. If you don't like it, get off my blog.
Friday, November 18, 2011
A Day Late and a Dollar Short
How am I feeling today? I'm feeling like it's time for a change. A big one. Don't get me wrong, I love me, as self-appreciating as it sounds. But being the perfectionist and entertainer that I am, I'm always looking for improvement. And I think I've found a new way to achieve a higher state.
Of couse, certain people will inevitably reject this change. It happens. But in the best interest of modernization and adaptation, it's a task that must be undertaken. I'm not going to say what these inevitable changes are, I'll let you figure them out for yourself, let you experience and judge them for yourself. If you don't like them, I'm sorry. It happens.
Change is impossible to avoid. Just take a glance at the world around us. Mother Nature changes all the time. From the direction of the winds, to the orientation of the rivers, to the elevation of the deserts, She is always adapting to overcome whatever challenges face her. So, in interest of becoming more at one with my surroundings, I need to change as well. I only fear that these changes will make me forget about who I was yesterday, and beyond that. But we must not be held down by the chains of the past. Instead, we must write down the past within the present, study it, reap all knowledge there is to be had, and employ it to build a better future. I chase no dream but my own.
And what is my dream you ask? That's still a secret yet to be untold, dear reader. If I ever achieve it, then the world will know of my visions and wonderlust. And if I fail, then I will slip into the safety that is silence, and renege my efforts until they can be modified into a new approach. We must never stop believing, never stop hoping. We must have faith in ourselves, lest we become gears in a machine that marches us away from our true inner happiness.
So what makes you happy? Truly, inexplicably, unboundingly happy? Is it something simple? Something that can be found everyday when you step outside your front door?
There's a question that I ask myself on a fairly common basis. If I had three wishes, what would they be? One day I hope I can answer, "My only wish is that everyone in the world can be as happy and as satisfied as me." And after I see that wish to fruition, I would give my two extra wishes to someone deserving of them, lest I try to build something greater than perfection.
For those who have read the Bible, you know what I'm talking about when I mention the Tower of Babel. A unified effort to build a tower reaching the Heavens and level ourselves on the same plane as the cherubim and God Himself. No, I don't want to challenge the higher powers that be. Instead, I want to see the world come together under a different dream, one shared by all the free people of all the Earth. I want to see friendships forged, diseases banished, poverty and hunger stricken from memory. In essence, I want to see a Communism. Not the Soviet Communism of the 20th century, but a new age Communism, where greed and self propulsion are no longer components of the human psyche.
Alright, this topic has evolved to something completely different than what I wanted at the start, so I will end it here. My message to you, dear audience: live free, love openly, speak with a golden tongue, and embrace everything, good or evil. For it is in knowing our world that we know ourselves.
"Windmill, windmill farm the land,
Turn forever, hand in hand,
Take it all in on your stride,
It is ticking, falling down,
Love forever, love is free,
Let's turn forever, you and me,
Windmill, windmill farm the land,
Is everybody in?"
Excerpt from, "Feel Good Inc."
By, the Gorillaz
Of couse, certain people will inevitably reject this change. It happens. But in the best interest of modernization and adaptation, it's a task that must be undertaken. I'm not going to say what these inevitable changes are, I'll let you figure them out for yourself, let you experience and judge them for yourself. If you don't like them, I'm sorry. It happens.
Change is impossible to avoid. Just take a glance at the world around us. Mother Nature changes all the time. From the direction of the winds, to the orientation of the rivers, to the elevation of the deserts, She is always adapting to overcome whatever challenges face her. So, in interest of becoming more at one with my surroundings, I need to change as well. I only fear that these changes will make me forget about who I was yesterday, and beyond that. But we must not be held down by the chains of the past. Instead, we must write down the past within the present, study it, reap all knowledge there is to be had, and employ it to build a better future. I chase no dream but my own.
And what is my dream you ask? That's still a secret yet to be untold, dear reader. If I ever achieve it, then the world will know of my visions and wonderlust. And if I fail, then I will slip into the safety that is silence, and renege my efforts until they can be modified into a new approach. We must never stop believing, never stop hoping. We must have faith in ourselves, lest we become gears in a machine that marches us away from our true inner happiness.
So what makes you happy? Truly, inexplicably, unboundingly happy? Is it something simple? Something that can be found everyday when you step outside your front door?
There's a question that I ask myself on a fairly common basis. If I had three wishes, what would they be? One day I hope I can answer, "My only wish is that everyone in the world can be as happy and as satisfied as me." And after I see that wish to fruition, I would give my two extra wishes to someone deserving of them, lest I try to build something greater than perfection.
For those who have read the Bible, you know what I'm talking about when I mention the Tower of Babel. A unified effort to build a tower reaching the Heavens and level ourselves on the same plane as the cherubim and God Himself. No, I don't want to challenge the higher powers that be. Instead, I want to see the world come together under a different dream, one shared by all the free people of all the Earth. I want to see friendships forged, diseases banished, poverty and hunger stricken from memory. In essence, I want to see a Communism. Not the Soviet Communism of the 20th century, but a new age Communism, where greed and self propulsion are no longer components of the human psyche.
Alright, this topic has evolved to something completely different than what I wanted at the start, so I will end it here. My message to you, dear audience: live free, love openly, speak with a golden tongue, and embrace everything, good or evil. For it is in knowing our world that we know ourselves.
"Windmill, windmill farm the land,
Turn forever, hand in hand,
Take it all in on your stride,
It is ticking, falling down,
Love forever, love is free,
Let's turn forever, you and me,
Windmill, windmill farm the land,
Is everybody in?"
Excerpt from, "Feel Good Inc."
By, the Gorillaz
Monday, November 7, 2011
Retrospective Futures
Today, I want to talk about the decline of physical media. Mainly, in music. Let's rewind the clocks about 10, maybe 15 years. When you used to go jamming around with your Sony Walkman plugged into your ears. Oh yes, the Walkman. I had one for well over seven years. By the time I was done with it, it had more duct tape than what would even seem feasible. The duct tape even had duct tape on it. I remember all my old CD's too. The ones I played so many times that they pretty much ended up melting. Every two minutes or so, they would start to skip like it was crazy, but I didn't care, it just made me more appreciative of the times when they played back flawlessly.
Can you remember buying new CD's? For me, it was like a religious experience. I'd go into Wal-Mart andstart looking through the aisles with the focus of a Shaolin monk. It would be almost an hour long process. "Well, this one really looks good, but I might enjoy this one better. But WOW, look at that one!" Either way, I'd end up retrieving my new holy artifact from the depths of Middle-Earth, I'd go to the checkout counter, pull out my wadded bills and scrap change, and revel in the greatness I now held in the palm of my hand. When I got home, I'd take off like the Incredible Flash up to my room, not caring what I knocked over, and jammed my new CD into my stereo. Engage headphones. Sorry Mom, I can't hear what you're saying, and I don't care right now. I'm in audio heaven. As soon as the first notes hit my ears, I was transformed into something else. I wasn't Tyler, not in the same way. I was a freaking rockstar, opening up to an arena of thousands of people. This was my fantasy. As I would read the CD booklet from cover to cover more zealously than a priest reads the Bible, I would continue to fantasize about touring the world, hauling my drumset everywhere. This was my life, my dream, and it was good.
But now we come to the present. Where iTunes rules the music world, the selfish prats they are. Yes, they're convenient. Yes, they're decently priced. But when a new album comes out on iTunes, and I buy it, the magic just isn't there. Don't get me wrong I still love the music, and I still to this day fantasize about being a rock star, but the magic...it disappeared. That little boy jamming to his broken headphones, attached to his broken Walkman, listening to his destroyed CD, is still in the past, walking through the Wal-Mart aisles, waiting for that new Red Hot Chili Peppers album. And I owe him a great deal of appreciation. So, I've made a pledge to myself. When I get my own house, I will take one room and dedicate it to music. Not just throw instruments in there. No, more. I'm gonna plaster the walls with posters of my favorite bands, throw a bunch of old album arts up there too. I'll have a huge CD collection, and who knows, maybe a vinyl collection. There will be a decent stereo in there, without an iPod dock, just an AM/FM radio and a CD player. And maybe, just maybe, I'll special order a Walkman from the 90s to keep in there in good memory. The kind that skips if you shake it just a little bit.
Can you remember buying new CD's? For me, it was like a religious experience. I'd go into Wal-Mart andstart looking through the aisles with the focus of a Shaolin monk. It would be almost an hour long process. "Well, this one really looks good, but I might enjoy this one better. But WOW, look at that one!" Either way, I'd end up retrieving my new holy artifact from the depths of Middle-Earth, I'd go to the checkout counter, pull out my wadded bills and scrap change, and revel in the greatness I now held in the palm of my hand. When I got home, I'd take off like the Incredible Flash up to my room, not caring what I knocked over, and jammed my new CD into my stereo. Engage headphones. Sorry Mom, I can't hear what you're saying, and I don't care right now. I'm in audio heaven. As soon as the first notes hit my ears, I was transformed into something else. I wasn't Tyler, not in the same way. I was a freaking rockstar, opening up to an arena of thousands of people. This was my fantasy. As I would read the CD booklet from cover to cover more zealously than a priest reads the Bible, I would continue to fantasize about touring the world, hauling my drumset everywhere. This was my life, my dream, and it was good.
But now we come to the present. Where iTunes rules the music world, the selfish prats they are. Yes, they're convenient. Yes, they're decently priced. But when a new album comes out on iTunes, and I buy it, the magic just isn't there. Don't get me wrong I still love the music, and I still to this day fantasize about being a rock star, but the magic...it disappeared. That little boy jamming to his broken headphones, attached to his broken Walkman, listening to his destroyed CD, is still in the past, walking through the Wal-Mart aisles, waiting for that new Red Hot Chili Peppers album. And I owe him a great deal of appreciation. So, I've made a pledge to myself. When I get my own house, I will take one room and dedicate it to music. Not just throw instruments in there. No, more. I'm gonna plaster the walls with posters of my favorite bands, throw a bunch of old album arts up there too. I'll have a huge CD collection, and who knows, maybe a vinyl collection. There will be a decent stereo in there, without an iPod dock, just an AM/FM radio and a CD player. And maybe, just maybe, I'll special order a Walkman from the 90s to keep in there in good memory. The kind that skips if you shake it just a little bit.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
A Late Night Jubilee
You ever lay awake at night wondering the meaning of it all?
The meaning of life.
The ultimate answer to our purpose.
No? Well, I have. And let me tell you something, I hate those nights. Because, at the end of the maniacal pondering, you realize you end up with more questions than what you started with.
So that brings me to the next question, which always puts me to sleep like a baby. What if there is no meaning to life? Boom. Ultimate question right there.
Consider the possibilities. If we were brought on this planet, not for some purpose, not for some approportioned fate, but to be us. To carve our own little niche in this world, and experience all it's wonders and follies through our own eyes.
Think about it.
When it comes down to the nitty gritty of it, we're truly just animals. We happen to be on the top of the food chain thankfully, because that allows us breathing room to chase our own personal pleasures without the true fear of being prey.
But oddly enough, some people are too scared to chase these wishes, dreams, pleasures, whatever you want to call them. Because we possess something the rest of the animal kingdom does not. Judgement. We are afraid of being on our own, shunned in the cold, so much so that it inhibits our actions, our words, and even our thoughts. Our definition of freedom is false. We're never truly free. We ARE free to do as we want within the moral holdings of others. So in essence, we're trapped within the eyes of others, always calculating our moves, judging us on what we've done, what we're doing, and even what we may do, before we're even aware of it ourselves.
So here's my plea to you. Live one day on your own. Don't talk to anyone, don't acknowledge anybody, and for God's sake, get off the damn phone. Isolate yourself from the world completely. Become self dependent. Figure out what you want for yourself. Then go out and achieve it. Sometimes it doesn't matter which way you jump, as long as you jump. Because, when the day is done, and you're lying awake in your bed, still pondering the meaning of life, you might open your eyes and realize, at the end of all things, you are alone.
Just remember to smile about it.
Today's song is Starlight by Muse
The meaning of life.
The ultimate answer to our purpose.
No? Well, I have. And let me tell you something, I hate those nights. Because, at the end of the maniacal pondering, you realize you end up with more questions than what you started with.
So that brings me to the next question, which always puts me to sleep like a baby. What if there is no meaning to life? Boom. Ultimate question right there.
Consider the possibilities. If we were brought on this planet, not for some purpose, not for some approportioned fate, but to be us. To carve our own little niche in this world, and experience all it's wonders and follies through our own eyes.
Think about it.
When it comes down to the nitty gritty of it, we're truly just animals. We happen to be on the top of the food chain thankfully, because that allows us breathing room to chase our own personal pleasures without the true fear of being prey.
But oddly enough, some people are too scared to chase these wishes, dreams, pleasures, whatever you want to call them. Because we possess something the rest of the animal kingdom does not. Judgement. We are afraid of being on our own, shunned in the cold, so much so that it inhibits our actions, our words, and even our thoughts. Our definition of freedom is false. We're never truly free. We ARE free to do as we want within the moral holdings of others. So in essence, we're trapped within the eyes of others, always calculating our moves, judging us on what we've done, what we're doing, and even what we may do, before we're even aware of it ourselves.
So here's my plea to you. Live one day on your own. Don't talk to anyone, don't acknowledge anybody, and for God's sake, get off the damn phone. Isolate yourself from the world completely. Become self dependent. Figure out what you want for yourself. Then go out and achieve it. Sometimes it doesn't matter which way you jump, as long as you jump. Because, when the day is done, and you're lying awake in your bed, still pondering the meaning of life, you might open your eyes and realize, at the end of all things, you are alone.
Just remember to smile about it.
Today's song is Starlight by Muse
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Child's Play
Let's talk about hide and seek.
When was the last time you played a game of hide and seek?
For me, it's been years, probably closer to a decade than I care to admit.
But think about the simplicity of the game. The majority runs and hides from the one "it" person. IN order to win, the "hider" must seize the oppoprtunity to make a break for it and reach home. Simple as it comes, but beyond beauty. Why? Because of it's purity.
When one plays this game, all the problems of the world melt away. Nothing matters when the last safe haven on Earth is fifty feet in front of you. Taxes? No. Work? Nope. Responsibilities? Not even close.
What happened to the days as kids when all we cared about was hide and seek, or toys, or trying to escapes Mom's wrath having induced it by not cleaning our rooms?
Some will say "growing up" is inevitable. Some will say that eventually we lose the foolishness of our childish ways.
I for one refuse to believe this. Somewhere deep down in all of us is our inner child, waiting to get out. You know it's true. When you're walking down the toy aisle Wal-Mart and you see something particularly shiny, that's when your inner child screams out for attention. And yet we walk on by, thinking we're too grown up for such toys. Instead, we go home, watch the news, lament over the fate of the world, and in essence, fade away into the gray doldrums of maturity.
People have mocked me for getting excited over trivial things. I'm sorry I still get excited over rainbows and still wonder if there's a leprechaun at the end with my promised gold. I'm sorry I still like to believe that there is magic in this world.
I'm not saying go out and fill your rooms with Beanie Babies. Don't go t.p.'ing peoples' houses (unless they really deserve it). And for good sake, don't tie a firecracker to your cat's tail! I'm just saying, when you feel the urge to be amused by something that is targeted for a younger age, don't restrain yourself. Instead, buy that toy. Play that game of hide and seek. Just remember, no peeking!
Today's song is "Kids," by MGMT.
When was the last time you played a game of hide and seek?
For me, it's been years, probably closer to a decade than I care to admit.
But think about the simplicity of the game. The majority runs and hides from the one "it" person. IN order to win, the "hider" must seize the oppoprtunity to make a break for it and reach home. Simple as it comes, but beyond beauty. Why? Because of it's purity.
When one plays this game, all the problems of the world melt away. Nothing matters when the last safe haven on Earth is fifty feet in front of you. Taxes? No. Work? Nope. Responsibilities? Not even close.
What happened to the days as kids when all we cared about was hide and seek, or toys, or trying to escapes Mom's wrath having induced it by not cleaning our rooms?
Some will say "growing up" is inevitable. Some will say that eventually we lose the foolishness of our childish ways.
I for one refuse to believe this. Somewhere deep down in all of us is our inner child, waiting to get out. You know it's true. When you're walking down the toy aisle Wal-Mart and you see something particularly shiny, that's when your inner child screams out for attention. And yet we walk on by, thinking we're too grown up for such toys. Instead, we go home, watch the news, lament over the fate of the world, and in essence, fade away into the gray doldrums of maturity.
People have mocked me for getting excited over trivial things. I'm sorry I still get excited over rainbows and still wonder if there's a leprechaun at the end with my promised gold. I'm sorry I still like to believe that there is magic in this world.
I'm not saying go out and fill your rooms with Beanie Babies. Don't go t.p.'ing peoples' houses (unless they really deserve it). And for good sake, don't tie a firecracker to your cat's tail! I'm just saying, when you feel the urge to be amused by something that is targeted for a younger age, don't restrain yourself. Instead, buy that toy. Play that game of hide and seek. Just remember, no peeking!
Today's song is "Kids," by MGMT.
Monday, October 31, 2011
The Beginning
What did you learn tonight?
You're shouting so loud
You barely broken, joyous thing
You're a voice that never sings is what I say
You are freezing over Hell
You are bringing on the end you do so well
You can only blame yourself is what I say
("The Archer's Bows Have Broken"-Brand New)
I can't explain why, but these lyrics really speak to me. I suggest you check this song out, thre's something very powerful about it.
Regardless, welcome to my new blog! If you've followed my previous blogs before, you know the drill. If not, well here's the secret: there is no drill.
Why did I get into this blogging activity you say? Well, listen closely child! Boredom is the key! That, and my friend Akexis was like: "Yo homesizzle, check out my blog, it's super tight!" And I was like: "Whoa you're crazy! But you might be onto something with this blog thing here!"
So now, here we are. The BEEEEEEEGINNING!
Only problem is, I have no idea what I want to write. I suppose this will do for today. I'm not promising to update this garbage everyday, but I might try to. We'll see. I'm very unpredictable, like a schizoid ninja.
You're shouting so loud
You barely broken, joyous thing
You're a voice that never sings is what I say
You are freezing over Hell
You are bringing on the end you do so well
You can only blame yourself is what I say
("The Archer's Bows Have Broken"-Brand New)
I can't explain why, but these lyrics really speak to me. I suggest you check this song out, thre's something very powerful about it.
Regardless, welcome to my new blog! If you've followed my previous blogs before, you know the drill. If not, well here's the secret: there is no drill.
Why did I get into this blogging activity you say? Well, listen closely child! Boredom is the key! That, and my friend Akexis was like: "Yo homesizzle, check out my blog, it's super tight!" And I was like: "Whoa you're crazy! But you might be onto something with this blog thing here!"
So now, here we are. The BEEEEEEEGINNING!
Only problem is, I have no idea what I want to write. I suppose this will do for today. I'm not promising to update this garbage everyday, but I might try to. We'll see. I'm very unpredictable, like a schizoid ninja.
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