even pit bulls are embarrassed
September 25, 2008
the only thing warm weather colds are good for
mocking a person who makes me feel okay about myself.
katie couric interview? owww
dick in a box
September 8, 2008
update: not true.
but still, she is evil times.
i tend to fail pretty drastically at maintaining things like this. just like livejournal, it has fallen into disrepair. whoops.
anyways, here is something, um, a bit important.
pitbull in lipstick my ass, sarah palin is dick cheney in a pantsuit. she is fucking terrifying, don’t let the grandfetus distract you.
further proof….
http://officeofstrategicinfluence.com/blog2/157
soccer? spaghettios? fuck my life.
August 22, 2008
it’s three in the morning, london time. all of Arsenal asleep, or absolutely shitfaced with a nose full of blow. Someone Tomas Rosiscky is injured, always. Theo Walcott is clutching a stuffed elephant. My jersey is the only thing I have on a hanger in my closet. When I wake up, the game will be already uploaded to the fox soccer channel website, whose yearlong package I purchased for one hundred bucks, like a fucking idiot. They plan to carry four arsenal games. Four. FOUR. so, twenty five bucks a game to watch a shitty webfeed. One of my safer investments. (really though)
I keep turning up Andrew Bird on my shiny semi-new stereo to drown out the T. Pain shaking the foundation of this little duplex from across the street. Does Theodore Pain take a “.” in front of his abbreviated first name? I should call him and ask.
I think I might write a single column for Mike (aka Dad, aka new roommate) who works his ass off for an online magazine. He covers music, he interviewed the lead singer of Everclear on the phone yesterday. Fucking Everclear? Yeah. Anyways, my title, “Who the hell are the Fiery Furnaces?”
I don’t have an answer yet. I know this:
- Polish, in last name atleast. I should recheck this, but fuck it, I’m off and running
- Brother and sister, and not in the White Stripes “we used to fuck, or were married, spooooky” way.
- The White Stripes made it cool to be pale for seven minutes. The seven minutes after my friends first heard “seven-nation army”. That was about it.
- Grandma sings on most of their new album. She sounds like death. (capital D?)
- I don’t fucking understand what they are talking about. It is like fucking my ear with a corkscrew.
- Last year Mike tried (and eventually succeeded) in opening a can of Spaghettios with a corkscrew. He also destroyed his hand.
- Alcohol was not involved.
last monday in town
August 18, 2008
reading the last pages of paperback dharma bums with jack
getting all upset about wine, and keeping it in his belt,
i was a little hung over from vodka orange soda night before
watching dick wolf shows with my little sister, smoking on the back porch
sitting at the tire store waiting for defective valve stems to be replaced, free
of charge. drove down to the secretary of state, not sure if
i could register to vote there, you called asking where a decent
bicycle could be purchased. i wasn’t sure, try ann arbor.
at the thai restaraunt we used to frequent when we
were family. old lady came from the back, “no mommy?
no daddy? just you?”
then proceeded to rub my neck and shoulders, pronounced me
“grown boy now”, i shoveled spicy rice and cashews into my mouth
ignoring my stomach, left a tip bigger than the bill
believing in karma.
salvia cat
August 12, 2008
now, the use and/or abuse of drugs is not funny.
in any way.
but this is
dog days
August 1, 2008
if somehow eggplant parmesan was made with the orange chicken sauce and breading from panda express, then i could probably stop eating meat.
and die of a heart attack at 23.
my dog can’t hardly see, because his hair is so curly that is covers his eyes. but he only eats and shits, and when you have a very sensitive nose at the end of your mouth and a fully exposed asshole, sight is not really required for either of those activities.
if i was a blind terrier i would do nothing but eat orange fried eggplant and shit it out all day.
letter to the juj, from the sky
August 1, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
Approximately over Lake Michigan
goals mean nothing, i set none anyway
July 24, 2008
I should not be a fan of football. I mean, soccer. Wait, fuck that, I mean football…
The Detroit Lions are the worst American football team ever. Poorly owned, managed, and stocked with poor players. I have watched about 90% of their games since grade school, followed drafts, training camp, even bought a jersey that I never wear. I started watching soccer (football, dammit) last year, and immediately fell in love with Arsenal, a London team that played in the Premier League. They play a fast, attacking, and really fun game. They rely on developing young players, instead of simply buying up international talent at the end of every season. They are healing the wounds that the tiger’s lost world series created, and Arsenal didn’t even win anything this year…
I am awful at sports, awkward, tall but not strong, quick but not fast, and a little fat. I simply lack the coordination to play any sports well, but it does not keep me from appreciating athleticicism. Modern athlethes are all in incredible shape, but the amount of skill needed to flat out run for 90 minutes is unbelievable. Also, Cesc Fabregas plays for Arsenal, and he is king.
Fabregas played more than 100 games for Arsenal before turning 20. I am 19, and still cannot dress myself properly. He does not shoot unless he can score, scores rarely, is average sized, and is probably the greatest soccer player in the world right now.
Because he sets up his team-mates for tap in shots, when he could risk a longer try.
Because he cheers the loudest.
Because he is only 21, but leads his squad, even without the armband.
Because he loves his team.
Christiano Ronaldo scored 40+ goals in all competitions for Manchester United this year, won the UEFA Champions League (the all-star league of Europe’s best teams) and won the Premier League. He had one of the greatest seasons in the history of modern football. Fabregas won nothing. However, he celebrated every single goal as if he had won it all, and not just his. He loves his team, and I have fallen deeply in love with his team because of it.
Ronaldo has spent all summer asking for a transfer to Spanish side Real Madrid, because it is “his dream” to play there. I don’t know how to tell my family I am in love with football, it would be roughly similar to coming out of the closet, or admitting I don’t care for religion. It won’t keep me from watching as many Arsenal games as I can though.
My friend Kate told me that she doesn’t watch sports, but if she did watch sports, she would watch football, well, she actually said soccer.
At least she is half-way there.
note: this is ridiculous. But I wanted to document my love for Arsenal and my man-crush on Fabregas. Because this is the kind of shit I want to remember in 15 years.
love, dooley
so long my strange job
July 21, 2008
it is absurdly easy to get laid off from a job. they just need to feel any real or imagined need to cut back on payroll. of course they are receiving $100 an hour for machining per part, and i make about 20 parts an hour, but only get paid $9 an hour. so
fuck!
why would they fire me?
because nobody wants cement mixer main gears, or transaxles for golf carts, or anything having to do with american cars. so, fuck. goodbye bad job, i barely knews ya.
at least i do not have kids, or pay rent, or need the health insurance i wasn’t offered. like the rest of detroit does.
