Kiss/Marry/Impregnate

You know we love you, that's a given. And we know that you know you love us, also a given. But what no one knows, not us or you, is what's going to happen next. Don't tell me it's inevitable. Just stop with that. Seriously quit it. I'm not gonna take that, and neither is anyone else that loves you. And there are alot of us, and we'll fight you, so don't even try it.

Second point: this is not anyone's fault, but if it has to be, then it's your mother's not yours. She is sick and pathetic and incapable of love...all things that you are not. You think you're weak yet have survived long enough to start over without her.

And third, you are just being plain selfish. You are robbing some poor guy of the love of his life. He'll end up with just some other girl...one that doesn't know all the words to "Ignition (the REMIX edition)," hasn't got a single golden hair on her body, and for damn sure didn't get diarrhea on their honeymoon from the wedding cake. You are also ransacking the cool aunt from your nieces and nephews. The one that lets them eat as many otterpops as they want, buys them yellow tights, and makes disgusting faces so gloriously grotesque they ask her to leave the lights on before bed. And for christ's sake, you are stealing a mommy that does in fact love daddy. That loves him too much, for too long, so much so it's uncomfortable for the kids. And the kids! I almost forgot the kids. Whose gonna give them their first swimming lesson, along with uncle dave and uncle dan? Whose gonna shout WOW! in church after one of them accidentally sharts so they don't feel embarrassed? Whose gonna help them with their homework? Whose gonna let them dress however they want despite how massively their lime green leotard clashes with their red pants? Whose gonna love them when they feel like no one does? Whose gonna love them because it's the only thing keeping you from killing them, because it's a wednesday, or because they are simply alive...

I know you know the answer, that's a given. It's about the only inevitable thing I know.

Rejewvenated

Seth Rogen has betrayed chubby losers everywhere. Google image the bastard and you will see a new man: "rejewvenated." If he didn't give me so much pleasure i'd hate 'em; instead i've decided to let him inspire me. Seth Rogen has inspired me to find my inner thin douche. After I saw his interview with Jon Stewart on the Daily Show I vaulted to the nearest 24 hour fitness. Soon I will be a skinny asshole...i will have a skinnier asshole...you'll see, you'll all see! And then you'll pay, you'll all pay...to see!

Hey Daniel, Suck It Blogspot

This is what i see after reloading my page several times (the page being daniel's comment section for "one week in the grand scheme"):
Word Verification

Loading...

(this is space to type)

Finish (this is a button)

Ahhh! I typed in "Loading..." which blogspot didn't think was funny.
Well, this was my comment:

haha...i have to do this for journalism, but i want to do it for me. makes me sick when i realize how much time i spend with a computer, as opposed to a human being...aim, facebook seem like an illusion of human contact.

lets talk after we conquer this.

I Always Wanted Curly Hair

I'm not done with puberty...or is it that puberty is not finished with me? Either way, I have new arm hair (these ones are visible sans microscope). My grandma swears I'm taller, which is why she's my favorite grandma (remember the sick woman who let us watch Jaws and Halloween before we could subtract...that's her, Grandma Archie). Oh and my facial hair is still funny, and not Daniel funny, more David funny. There's nothing masculine about patches, it just sounds like a dog name...a generic one. I want a beard...damn Ramin...and Michael...and Jillian (haha kidding).

My hair distribution is weird, bordering on stupid. Chest? Nope. Face? Patches. Hands? Patterened. Ass? Bountiful. If i ever went bald, my subsequent hair transplant would come from my butt.

Coffee's for Closers

When i read exceptionally brilliant, heart-felt writing i want to delete my blog...
I imagine busting through the swinging doors of my writer's room, blunt weapon in hand, waiting for my blog writing staff's eyes to meet mine. The mace, candlestick, trident clinks and clacks against the floor as I let it slip from my small, delicate hands. I swagger to the closest window and glare, breathing heavy, building dramatic tension. And then i go there. I drop the Alec Baldwin speech on them like an A-bomb filled with kamikazes (think Glengarry Glen Ross monologue delivered with the vitriol of pig daughter voice mail). This goes on, blood trickling down their earlobes and splatting on their crisp, white dress shirts. Near the end of my tirade, i snatch one of the baby-faced writers by the pits and i shake him...a good strong shaking. A half an hour later, i release the sweating husk and he crumples into the fetal position. I wiggle my numb fingers and part with these words: "Write personally. Write profoundly. Write punly. Write better."

I also understand that brilliant, heart-felt writing is a process...haha that's a great word for it. So don't fret...this blog is safe.

B-sides the point

Time to unclog the drain. I present to you my blog post junkyard; unfortunate entries that didn't make it past the creative process. Unedited, uncensored, uncircumcised, and unposted, until now...my b-sides:

5/20/08
Dear God, thank you for this wonderful day. Help me have no bad dreams, no Jaws dreams. Bless the food that we eat and enstrength our bodies. Bless mommy, daddy, peter, natalie, me, and everyone else in the world. In your prayer, amen.
I haven't said these words, in my head or out loud, in years...at least six or seven.
This is the prayer i'd repeat every night before sleep. Mom created the base of the prayer and, every night, my sister would inject "Jaws dreams" at the mentioning of bad dreams (probably because my grandma would let us choose whichever VHS we wanted when we spent the night...sick, sick woman.) I thought the prayer was magic. It was like a nightly incantation we'd all chant in unison to ward away the bad omens. I never really took to organized religion...sorry mom.

5/20/08
People that have taken me six years to befriend:

Albot.Liz.Jimmy.Leah.Alyssa.Andrew.Michael Hsiao.Kristen.Dhivya.Melanie.
And now they're gone...can't wait until i see each one, perhaps at the same hangout? haha...maybe.

9/23/08
if attractive people can find flaws with their appearances, what are the rest of us gonna do?
Self-conscious and shallow for two hundred, Trebec. This one is awkward. I remember writing this after a gym outing with Ramin...he was commenting on his physical flaws, and the whole time i was stabbing him with telepathic knives...blunt ones.

10/31/08

My shitty paper recieved an A-...shut up.

It made my day. And i had an awesome day, besides the paper. I saw Role Models with theresa, which was hilarious in its own david wain way, and i finally washed my filthy car. But then the sun went down, my tired thoughts wandered, and i decided to choke the joy out of my day. It's a nightly chore, to wring out the day's events in my mind like a dirt-soaked rag. I'm dry now.

I am particularly drained by my inability to enjoy anything. I dont really do anything except write. I am a collection of words, not experiences. I'm done talking
Yeah, and i'm done writing this post (no period here...because i'm just that over it)

Totally Fucked

I am a used condom.