Tuesday 3:47am
You ever get severe headaches? Oh, I am sure you do you have seen my site.

For those of you that went to the forum, you might have seen that the links didn't work. I fixed that so now they do work. Hence the definition of the word fix. It has been a pretty good night, just got the catch-up e-mail from Ben. Tony even wrote me, so I have been feeling awfully popular…which is sad. I move out in one day assuming that I get my fucking paycheck in the bank tomorrow. Today was pretty good I suppose, all things considered. Not like "Mardi Gras" good, but pretty damn nice. Not much to report. Communing with Mr. Jim Beam right now and hoping that somewhere, under this same big sky, in a world that is this mad, someone is drinking up with me in spirit. I don't want to actually meet the fucker, I am sure they are either a major drunk or in my family…which is to repeat myself again.

What is with the Mary Kate and Ashley Olson craze? I see movies, video games, shoes, clothes, hell - one of my crack rocks has one of their spooky images burned into it. I am not sure how to deal with this. I don't understand it is the problem. Spears, sure, everything with a dick (and many without though they won't admit it) want to tie her up like a roast and fuck her like she is a warm chicken with rosemary dish…don't look at me like that. But Mary Kate and Ashley Olson? You can't watch them for cerebral purposes, you can't watch them to learn anything, you can't even watch them to furiously masturbate. There is something disturbing about their little prepubescent bodies. Give them a couple years and cover them with a couple pounds of cosmetic paint and maybe I could rub with a good rhythm while they strut up and down a stage, but right now that just feels so…"banned in 43 states" that I don't think I want to start toying with my own psychosis just to get my rod off. (Texas, Delaware, California, Georgia, Wyoming, Quebec, and Cuba will let you do it. Now we are going to play the sesame street game of guess which two states don't belong! Texas and Georgia - You are right!) Who is patronizing these little wenches? I picked up the boxes to a couple of their movies and they are all the same thing. Are they the only famous twins that Hollywood can shove down our throats? I did, in the spirit of understanding, write a little outline for a film that they will just flip over. I will give you people a sneak peak right here for the low low price of showing me your man-breasts. Awww shit, I will post it and you can read it, man-breasts or not.

Mary Kate and Ashley in "Bloodlust : The hunt part 2 - Jack finds a bride."
Mary Kate and Ashley are Kim and Bashley, two twins that are very different. Kim is all about school while Bashley is a streetwalker that likes to work the boulevard! In this wacky tale of mix-ups and hilarity Kim and Bashley switch places to flummox Bashley's sociopathic new boy toy. When he finds out the truth, only Kim's brains and Bashley's total cluelessness can save them from his homicidal rage! Zaniness, grainy film, and awkward sexual encounters abound in this ride that will leave your sides sore from either the exhaustion of laughing or the constant prodding from your girlfriend that just wants to leave. It is a romp for the whole family! If you don't have a family then get Drake, the homo-repressed frat boy, to watch it with you. Either way you are getting laid like they do in prison by the time Kim and Bashley are in the lolita-esque bikini car wash scene! This film has been rated RUN! By the motion picture association of America. It's content may be inappropriate for anyone with one functioning higher brain cell. Intelligence caution is advised.

See! Look at the goodness I can give the nation. You can't deny the fact that that right there is film making worthy of some kind of golden statue. Even if all I can get is the Brass horns of the Elk's Club "Trophy's out of Pity" awards ceremony I am one satisfied screen-writer. If I can reach just one slack-jawed, web-toed pile of pseudo-human stupidity then my time has been well spent. It is time to clean off and go to bed, or I would add offensive photos of the twins in action. Maybe tomorrow.

Monday 3:08am
A layout to make your heart skip a beat and a night that got to me.

Ain't it pretty up in this motherfucker now? Something told me it was time to give up on my "I know it sucks, but it is sooo me!" design so that you jack-offs can more easily get lost in my long strands of bullshit. I think I will be staying with this for a while, but we shall see. I certainly hope so because I did a boring tech thing and dropped the frames, so all that shit on the side has to be copied on to every fucking page this site has to offer so that you all can jump right from listening to my bullshit to discussing my bullshit. Which you need to do. I know you won't, and that doesn't bother me. I still love at least 11% of the visitors to this site (assuming I visit it at least 11% of the time.) Enough abuse, on with the whining!

It snowed tonight. Heavy. My ass is buried. I went out to smoke and saw the weather and was |--| that far from calling up every female in 100 miles that I knew so I could cuddle up. It was a night for cuddling up goddamn it and no one to do it with. This gave way to nostalgia as I was talking to THE EX online and she said something delightful. Nothing like thinking back to winter nights renting movies with her and maybe cooking up some ramen or shells and cheese and enjoying the warmth and the company and scalding the bottom of spoons with our lighters right before we shot up from the same needle. Man when that HIV takes hold she is gonna be pissed at me. Yeah, a long single year later and now that I am ready to date there are no viable prospects. I am trying to go back to delving into this site, the design, and reading to stop thinking about being alone. But instead I am drinking straight from the bottle and chain smoking. But I have to do it, Jesus came to me in a dream and said "What the fuck is all this shit doing all over the fucking place? Clean this up!" So who wouldn't be doing the same thing? You can't defy the lord.

I am not funny anymore. It is official. I can't talk to anyone without picking a fight whether it is playful or serious. People at work make me feel dumb because they can think of words without having to wave their hands helplessly like a fucking seal clapping before it finally comes to them. And with me it doesn't even really come, I just find an obscenity to throw in, or tell someone to suck my cock. This is what I am using my gargantuan IQ for. I have learned to swear in 4 languages, and could get Italian words from THE EX if it weren't for the fact that I think I have become stupider than even her.

Friend of mine called me horrifying tonight. Started asking questions about my views on humanity that he knew the answers to. When you do that, expect to find out what kind cesspool I use for a heart. Don't be shocked when an isolated semi-animal wants to throw acid in someone's face. I am even listening to Nirvana happily. I used to hate the whiny bullshit that Kurt "Brain Splatter" Cobain would drone out in that bitch voice. Not anymore, now it is worth holding up a lighter for. It is almost an accolade that he put himself "to sleep" because it proves he wasn't just making music, he was actually miserable. Honesty: something more celebrities need. Suicide: something more celebrities need to do.

I am getting touchy too. I nearly lost it the other night when one of the managers I give shit too gave it to me out of nowhere. I couldn't come up with an attack. My mind….just wouldn't work. Everything feels like the last straw. There is something sexy about French women that speak broken English. There is also something sexy about women that shave, more French women should think about that. But when they come up to you and say "Pardon, um…" oh that accent "where iz….zee, trash bags?" the cutest little playful look on their face. Oh, it is adorable until that same cute face is convincing a jury that you committed an act of sexual assault "He…how you say….he….made me…have the sex vith 'is muppet". But they are really fuckable. And those black boots that women wear that come just below the knee (or the ones that come just below the hip). Oh man. You give me a blonde in those knee-boots with a white shirt on, that has a big collar. Tuck that shit into a black skirt that lands right above the boots…Damn. I become a gibbering moron. "You…..um….know …..vere ze trash bags are?" and then just run away. Hi, can you tell I am single? I thought I hid it well.

Even that little Paper-clip in MS Word is dropping his eyebrows at me in pity. That is bullshit. I will straighten his ass out and reboot a Macintosh with him. Go time clip boy. You are about to dig lint out of my fucking keyboard BEEEOTCH!!! My abs look good though. And when I haven't put three - ten shots in me, I have a lot of stamina. /me just goes to take care of base animal needs with a lubricant and some of that Cold Care Kleenex with Aloe and vitamin E.
Tonight's Quote:"Any idiot can be nice. Try kicking someone's crutches and then you can talk to me about what it means to be a man."

Wednesday 3:34am
Come on in but mind the self-loathing

Don't eat rotten fruit no matter how desperate you are to get fucked up. It doesn't quite work like that I have found out. I have also learned that you can cook chili right out of the can, it is just more difficult, which defeats the whole purpose of simplicity. But I will laugh now in the face of those that said it could not be done (insert long hearty laughter punctuated by coughing and sailor like swearing.) I figured that it had been almost a week since a post, and I wanted to act like someone gave a shit. If one of you does then that is great, that makes one (counting me). To bring you up to speed, I did drink on lunch last saturday. It was a good night. I don't know what it is in alcohol, but it makes stocking shelves a lot of fun. I laughed my ass off. If you have a menial idiot job like I do, then try it, you will thank me later.

I also set fire to a spatula. Some jackass left it in my oven and I didn't check before I preheated. Who does that? I don't think it should be necessary for me to open the door and make sure one of you semi-mongoloids hasn't left their second child in there or something equally stupid. But it seems I need to. So now there is burning plastic in the oven that smells. Thanks to everyone out there with their head so far up their ass that they can no longer distinguish colon from cranium.

Got jacked on my paycheck. Yeah, I missed one 10 hour day and they took 14 hours out of my check despite the 4 hours I made up doing some bullshit thing or other on the clock. Burn it down I say. Set the thing on fire and laugh in a very friendly kind of easily approachable manic way if there is such a thing. Stop insisting I make sense. As an imaginary little man I don't think you have any say in what I put on my site. Many of you might think of me as an egotistical ass, I contend the matter with the argument that I am deluded in a flamboyant kind of way. Much like a southern dandy whose drunkeness and subsequent violent and repeated raping spree could be overlooked by his dismissive but inexplicably attractive attitude and bearing. Now to start on the raping, any volunteers? You, with the funny hat, want to be taken advantage of? Please? I can tell you I have money, that seems popular with women. Where I decide to stick it is irrelevant as long as I get you a nice necklace right? Thought so, I will now classify you as a "woman" and be unsurprised by this factoid. Difference between a fact and a factoid....spelling. Notice the extra letters. Lots of people overlook that. Stupid people, but I repeat myself.

Hate that Iglesias song now. What was I thinking with that pop tripe? I'll tell you, thanks to my brain fucked lifestyle I was thinking how lonely I was and pining for impossible drug-esque love that doesn't exist even in drugs (believe me). I strive now for apathy. Seek the existentialist within, then be placated by cigarettes and indifference. Keep the quiet horrification at reality to yourself.

I want to upgrade. Go from unloader thug with coffee and beer to White collar thug with good coke and heroine to calm down. That is the point of a degree right? Higher class drugs and pussy. Oh, not to mention you get to adopt conservative attitudes and have one of those outdoor lighted pools that you toss off witticisms beside. God, and I have so many good witticisms, all I need is the degree. Ever ate a pizza from crust to crust instead of going the typical slice route? I did it last night and again tonight. I recommend it once. Twice is a little much. Too much like sleeping with the same woman. You've had it, it wasn't worth another 300 bucks was it?

Naturally the thing with the women fell thorough. They didn't want to move in with some random guy. Can you imagine that? Did they not see my costly collection of brass kunckles? So I have a few places to look into living at, or in, or whatever it is you do when you live somwhere. I got one of them with a professor. THat was nice because I didn't talk over her head like I do with everyone else.

Do you ever have to point out to yourself that "this is reality"? Afraid you might succumb to the surrealism of life? I don't know, I do it all the time though, and it still doesn't make me fathom it.

Tonight's quote: "We knew the only things that awaited us were petty crime or minimum wage. So we stepped off the path."

Wednesday 7:02pm
Somewhere between envy and pity.

Well I did find a place to live. If you want to live alone in a college town on a low budget it is easy. If you want to do it anytime that is not the summer you are pissing up a pole. But I had the next best thing land in my lap. Richard, the fella taking my room hooked me up with a friend of his, Kelly, that is looking to get out of where she lives. Kelly and her 2-3 roomates (I saw 3 pictures and heard three names, but she said 2 roomates. I am a bit lost.) are all young, college girl, blonde, and attractive. While this is fantastic for the visual senses, it is like walking into someone else's harem. Lots of ass in your face, none of it belongs to you. Not to mention it is THREE FUCKING WOMEN!!! I have seen how women live. My days will be full of this type of madness.

Me (enters kitchen with hair a bit disheveled wearing a neon goalie shirt): Hey Heidi, wassup?
Heidi (riding on her riteous cloud of beauty and grace): Fuck off cretin. I will not have sex with you.
Me: Ok. Who ate all the fucking goddamn shithorse ass fuck bullshit peanut butter?
Marianne (enters kitchen at this time giggling and insisting that everyone has to see her pictures from her trip to mexico): Hiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeee! I'm sorry Matt. I ate the peanut butter. Here, stare at my tits and forget all about it!! Look, this is me trying to have sexual relations with a Mule led by a gutter digger named Juan!! And this one is from Mardi Gras!!
Me: This looks like a parade float.
Marianne: It is, I was sooooooooooooo drunk I thought it was my ex boyfriend so I made mad passionate love to it!! You know, it is like so great!! I miss California!! But now I am a CO girl GOOOOOOOOOO BRONCOS!!
Me (stuffing cotton into my ears to stop the now ruptured ear drums from bleeding): *Makes monosyllabic grunt and decides to go to Wendy's.*
Heidi: What? Don't make animal noises of passion at me. You think that is supposed to get me hot? You think that makes me want to ride you? Huh you typical guy? And where the hell do you think you are going? If you are going up to my room to go through my clothes I swear I am calling the cops. I know you do that, don't think I am stupid! (gets out a screwdriver and sets to tightening her chastity belt.)
Temmilica (the only normal / sane one in the house. She is sitting on the couch rocking back and forth) I know to dance by the green of the moon. I know to dance by the green of the moon. I know to dance by the green of the moon.

Nothing good can come from this. I'll probably have to curb my net habit too. This means that more books are needed, more video games, and more of those real people that seem to be so popular with males 18 - 25.

I got blown off yesterday. No surprise, typical female. If she says something about it, I'll try again. If she doesn't, fuck it and forget it. I left a message on her answering machine. She had been giving me the vibe. Oh well, got another one planned for Sunday that will probably be ruined this afternoon. I'm not exactly sure what I am doing wrong, but it must be serious. Oh well. Alcohol and tons of bad movies will see me through this stage. I did sleep 14 hours last night though, so it was almost better that she vanished. Trying to decide if I should drink before work....if all my roomates leave then I will. If they are here then I don't think I will. Oh fuck, and I am running the crew starting today. Yeah, we'll need some booze for that. Maybe put it in my car and just get fucked up on lunch break. This is so lame.

Monday 11:52am
Just the obligatory update.

Slept 4 hours. Drank last night so I woke up feeling like someone stuffed cotton into the back of my throat and scalded my eyes. Depressed and dehydrated. I have to move out, my roomate wants me off the lease, and that sure sounds fine and dandy to me. Get to live in a hole in the wall for the time being, then get an apartment. Went and looked at one today. $525 a month for one bedroom, the kitchen was practically non-existant, there were holes in the wall spakled over as well as kiddie safety scissors cut, the ceiling above the bathtub was exposed studs, and I literally saw a fucking cockroach. I didn't even know we had them in Colorado really. They like warm and moist. That was a hideous place to stand in. Living there is something I would do to pay for my sins, it is purgatory not home.

Furthermore, I went and got a little everclear in me and tried to ask this "woman" out. I got a response as warm as the good old days of Crystal. Just what I need is another goddamn female that is going to be bitchy and touchy and who wants my company for the evenings when TV is all reruns and she just doesn't want to read the Sears catalog again. I run a distant second to junk mail and cable. Awww hell, if I got junk mail and had TV I wouldn't talk to me either. If she hasn't enjoyed me so far, I am not one of those guys who will change her mind via persistence. I'll probably just let it go and write it in my big book of why I don't bother with the normal human things.

The only joy I've got today is the stupid teenage girl gratification I am getting from Enrique Iglesias. I don't know why, and I am mocking me about it so you don't have to worry. I guess pain is better than nothing at all. That was my idle bitching. I'm going to see if it is true that enough cigarettes can solve anything. If they can't do it alone I will give them an alcoholic partner, get my idiot roomate's weed and commit braincell genocide. Nothing good about today, just a drag.

I'll try to come up with something clever so you all don't have to put up with all these dull, self-pitying news updates. And I am thinking of putting the navigation bar on the left on the top of the page...but with the frames I don't know how I would make that work. It would look even more awkward than it does now. Jesus. Might left justify it and eliminate the icons. But they are the thing I like best about this page. It is like having a sign to the side that just says "Ghetto-Web". I wonder if that domain name is taken....

Saturday 5:38am
Hey life, you wanna come back and try again? I still have a tooth that you didn't kick down my throat.

Today's game is called "No Big surprise". To play, all you need is a touch tone phone, a little common sense, a basic grasp of the English language, and the ability to project the path reality will always take. Ready? Hold on to your hats and let's go on a wild ride to a place of wonder, of learning, of magic, of mystery, and (most importantly) of watching in bemused apathy as circumstances once again batter Matt until you couldn't even recognize him from a DNA test, retinal scan, dental plate, and fingerprint.

I should be packing to move. Yet all my shit is still all over the floor. Why is this? Because an ex-employee decided to fuck Jess and rat out our little plan to his trailer park. He leaves in two days, and now they know he was going to breach their contract. They said he could move the trailer, sell it to the fire department, or just turn the deed over to them. Notice how none of these options works too fucking well for me. Methinks vengence be a new companion of mine. So now I am stuck with a renter coming in next Wednesday, no place to live, and an aching desire to be away from my roomates. But wait friends, gather neigh and let me spin a yarn of painful popularity.

Most of you know me. Know my tendancy to give abuse. My foul attitude and negative outlook. My lurking in my dark jacket and swearing like a sailor. Guess what though? I am now going to be, after nearly three months, moved into a higher position on the ladder at work. As a tryout, I will be managing the crew I work with twice a week. If that goes well then they will bump me up to a full managerial position in no time. They love me. I called the store manager an asshole just today. There are 6 managers in the store, and they had a meeting to decide who to give this coveted position to. Guess who got the unanimous vote? Gee, I would feel all warm about it, except for the undeniable fact that it means more responsibilty for the same pay. We are on a raise freeze, so I run the crew, and get nothing but more headaches. I get to yell and try to hold my very-difficult-to-reign-in temper twice a week. I like being a loudmouthed peon. Being a loudmouthed manager of any small stature ruins my whole "I don't give a shit, I don't need you you lousy fuck" appeal. I don't want to do it. Do I have a choice? No. They said I am doing it. They didn't feel comfortable with anyone else. Do you belive this? I should have taken my own advice and done this job with the same cavalier attitude I normally take. Now a combination of good work ethic and dark charm have gotten me into this. On the bathroom stall someone wrote "What do you do when everything is wrong?" I didn't see it until tonight, now that is true dramatic irony. I don't have an answer. Cut bait and get out maybe.

So the long and short is higher position, more BS, new enemies, and I have to find a place to live because I cannot go to work to come home to my fucking stoned ass roomate and his dipshit friends.

For those of you who I didn't send them to: New Surveys.

Wednesday 3:59am
If concentration were a virtue a sinner would I be still.

I lack beer. Chili dogs and a pot of ramen make my belly happy. This calls for a couple of hours camped out in front of the TV watching whatever movie I just bought and drinking. But I didn't buy a movie and I lack beer. A matter of days, days and I will be a homeonwer! I challenge all of you that declared I would never amount to anything to gaze upon my trailer and try to refute the accomplished person I have become! While you do that I am going to weep at the pathetic existence I have put myself in, and the fact that I can think of little that would give me more pleasure. Except the obvious insertion of a woman into this equation...and the insertion for the woman if you get my meaning (nudge nudge wink wink) I was talking about sexually you know? Because during intercourse - that isn't the best way to put it. Ok, when a boy robin and a girl robin like eachother a lot they get married so they can commit an act of love. If they do not get married this same act is a filthy filthy carnal sin and a red letter should be placed 'round their neck. Either they are in love, or the boy robin gives the girl robin a lot of money so that he may use her the same way Bart next door used the chiropractic massage device. That is called intercourse. Now that I think about it, go ask your mother.

What work can do to you: These are the things that occur to me as I am putting shit on the shelves of the chemicals aisle. Detergents, room scents, and dish soaps. Not to mention that we are all endlessly amused by using brand names in sentences. Can I Cheer you up? Put some Joy in your life. It is always darkest before the Dawn. That Charmin sure is Charmin'. I put my Bounty before you. The Tide's coming in. We are all Tide up. I am fit to be Tide. I got Tide down. It's All, good. You get how stupid we all are. And I am the damn ringleader.
Renuzit Scents #114 - Heather Mist - And it is a damn good thing to because if Heather's aim was better I wouldn't be here today.
Lysol Summer Cling - When a one night stand in July won't stop calling.
Furthermore, they make up smells and bottle them. Anyone know what a Sense of Spring smells like? How about Fresh Cotton? Seashore Mist? Actually I know that smell, but why they have a candle that smells like dead seal confuses me. What about Glacier Spring? Peach Impression? "This is my peach's impression of Clinton." "That was lame, it was just like his impression of Nicholson(sic)" Summer Breeze? Vanilla Essence? Just the essence mind you, can't be mucking about with all that "whole vanilla" bullshit. Tropical Sunrise? "Wow, your bathroom smells just like 5:43am on Maui." And how many fucking ways do you need your dishes to smell? Lemon, Orchard Splash (another psychotic scent), Apple Blossom, Spring Sensation (and another), and naturally, original scent for those of you silly asses that don't fucking care how your dishes smell. And I am against anti-bacterial soap, I have gotten rather attached to my bacteria. I named them: This is Frederico, Pierre, and Sarah.
Trojan condoms, America's most trusted condom. In a nation of ILLEGITIMATE CHILDREN I would keep my goddamn mouth shut about that. Also Trusted for 80 years tells me it is time you rethink your design, because me and my daddy owe our lives to you. I think the Burnz legacy can die right here you badass brain fucking motto warlocks.

Saw K-Pax this weekend. Been a while since I went to a movie. Not since I raped my sensory inputs with John Carpenter's Ghosts of Mars. I love him and his trash, and boy did Natasha Henstridge's fully clothed performance leave something to be desired (like breasts, jiggling, breasts, and a performance.) They did have chrome Uzis at the end though. Not to mention they forced out an alien parasite by giving it hallucniogenics. Note to my colleages: If I am ever overtaken (again) by an extraterrestrial, please just pop me some shrooms. Even if it doesn't force them out, at least I will go out of this world the same way I came into it. It didn't make sense, but I thought it was funny...no I didn't. I didn't get it and was trying to sucker you. And no, that isn't my watch, man you are on the ball tonight.

Oh, I archived the last group of updates as well.

K-Pax didn't impress me. It was too uselessly ambiguous. I just didn't care to have the "what do you think is the truth?" discussion with Mr. Goopers. The realization is that there is no truth, that it was just preprogrammed to be a "conversation stimulator." Fuck that noise man.

Subject: Wishes from Fairies don'g exist
A wish is a meaningful word that you want to happen without you having the courage or the mind to set out and get it yourself.
Dawn
I got this in my e-mail. It was in response to the Wishes from fairies ad. First off, if people are going to bother me on those damn sites, the least they could do is A) Make sense B) Fucking spell check C) Realize what humor is and when someone is using it. I think Matt has to get nasty with Dawn now. Fucking call me cowardly and stupid...it is like she knows me. And that is just disconcerting.