I knew there was a reason I stayed in the house as much as I do. I went to the movies today to see that Napoleon Dynamite joint and left 45 minutes into it because I wasn’t digging the people around me in the theatre. One obsessive woman opening a piece of candy every minute and thirty seconds with a little kid with her. Don’t take children to the movies, take them to the basement and fuck them in the ass. I hate kids. A number of teens dotted the theatre making chitter chatter and wrapper crunching. A boy behind me played with coins. I decided next time, I am going to bring one of those triangular wood door jam things in with me, the minute people start making noise in the theatre I am going to set of a tear gas grenade, leave the theatre and jam the door shut so they can’t get out (I’ll do the rear exits before I even go in, assuming this will happen). The only logical thing I came up with out of this experience was…people who go to movie theatres should be raped, strangled, and murdered.

I got soul like Fred Wesley

Talking Heads fans should be excited about the long awaited reissue of that live record from 82 tomorrow.

The Internet is for faucking kuntholes I realized tonight. There’s nothing to do here. sports and rock music and news and people showing pictures of h

who car

I have no desire to deal with people asking how my weekend was tomorrow

OZZXY OSBOURN!

I just picked up the guitar for the first time in months. Not with the band that is. I don’t think I’ve really played it alone in a long time. I can ki

I don’t think my life is boring and useless enough

before & after