Memorial Day?

Well, just got back from a weekend at the family's lake house.... unfortunately, the family was there too. Luckily, it is basically an excuse to get exceedingly intoxicated. And one such night was no exception.

My brother and I had bought a bottle of Jaegermeister and 8 Red Bulls, in order to do some fucking bombs. We ended up playing what I like to call "Drinking Pursuit", which is basically Trivial Pursuit with drinking penalties for incorrect answers. If you've ever played Trivial Pursuit, you know how bad this is going to be. The questions are pretty fucking hard, and I was still dominating, all the while cursing up a storm in front of my 9 and 12 year old cousins, who who left in our custody for the evening in a huge bit of bad judgement by my uncle. Playing said game were myself, my brother, my cousin, and his wife.

Between my cursing about how I would "totally have done Lindsay Lohan 2 years ago, before she looked like a fucking coat rack," (my 9 year old cousing was watching "Mean Girls") and calling my cousin's wife a "fucking jerk," I was in pretty rare form before the bottle of Jaegermeister came out. After that, it got a little fuzzy.

All accounts from the parties involved were different. Some say we finished the bottle in under an hour, using only 4 Red Bulls (!). Others claimed about 2, but the fact was, by 11 o'clock, it was gone. These were the absolute dirtiest Jaeger Bombs that have ever been made by humans, maybe 85% booze and 15% Red Bull. And my brother, who is three years younger than me, and weighs even less than me, turned into Captain Call-out after about 5 of them.

"Drink this fucking thing. Now."
Scared 3rd Party: "I like the ones where they mix Jaeger and Red Bull in 2 glasses. These are too dirty."
"Fucking fag, huh? Drink the thing, or I'll kick the fucking shit out of you, in front of the whole family."

Yeah, he takes after me in many, many ways.

So we finished the bottle and our parents returned to the cabin from the local "Memorial Day Dance / Raffle" or whatever the fuck. I hate going to it, so I stayed home and got hammered instead. Only they all got pretty hammered at the shitty dance as well. They just weren't in my league. A few things that happened after that:

My cousin's wife admitted to trying to kill herself in the recent months, and being institutionalized. Wow. What the fuck do you say to that, "too bad you can't even do that right"? If you're me, you do.

My dad earnestly asking me "why don't you just go to bed, and stop drinking?" My answer? "I'm fine, goodnight."

Me telling my mother to "shutup" numerous times. I hate it when my rage mixes with booze and family.

My brother loudly vomiting off the second story deck, with my uncle and I laughing our asses off the whole time.

Me screaming to said uncle that "all women are whores", and "I can't believe a fucking WOMAN pulled the wool over my eyes. I'm so embarassed. Why can't any of them keep their fucking crotches closed?" The best part was, he agreed. He named off about 4 women he thought he "loved" before he met his wife that fucked with him. He also said that by being single, my ex-girlfriend just "did me a fucking favor". I don't know if he really meant it, or if he was just frightened by my furious anger. Either way, it was a good talk. Plus, we got to watch my brother throw up, which ruled.

Then I passed out in my bed in the room I share with my brother in our lake house. Neither of us remembered how we changed into shorts and t-shirts, and we were afraid. Who undressed / redressed us? He had a huge fucking bucket and a paper bag lined with a plastic bag lining the inside of it. I laughed at him, took a huge dump the next morning, and went out to the living room to discover that my aunt was making a huge breakfast of bacon, eggs, and sausage. I eagerly stuffed bacon, eggs, and a cream cheese bagel into my face (the only way to beat a massive hangover is to kick it in the face with greasy breakfast food, not laying in bed like a punk bitch). It ruled. My brother, on the other hand, had to go back to bed because the smell of food was making him nauseous. I kicked my breakfast's ass, took a huge box of scrap wood down to the fire pit, burned it, and went out on our boat for a couple of hours to get some fucking air. I was fine to drink again the next night, while everyone laughed at my brother for barfing and sleeping all day.

I fucking rule. I'm a heavyweight in this game. By the way, I drank the night before as well.

Maybe I have some problems. But I'm still better than you. Way better. Plus I got to sit around all weekend in a sweet lake house my dad bought and eat sweet food that other people made for me and get shitfaced on booze that other people bought.

Maybe my life isn't so shitty after all.

Still, fuck you.

I feel like Tony Soprano

Talking to a therapist about what bothers me feels about as natural as shaving my balls. It's cold, unfamiliar, and you're not sure if people are going to be thrilled with the results. Either way, today my anger management started. It was... interesting.

She seemed more interested in the trauma I had been through than my actual anger problem. She seemed amazed and stunned at how composed and calm I was during our session, which is all part of my act. I can be perfectly civil when need be. She remarked several times how articulate and aware I was.

No shit.

Anyway, here are some verbatim quotes from me, during this hour and ten minutes:

"It's like I can't wait to tell everyone why I am right, and they are wrong."

"I rip what people enjoy apart, and then it's almost like I challenge them to try and do something to me, verbally or physically, to prove me wrong. I am daring people to contest me, and no one takes my offer."

"If the mood strikes me, I can drink far more than that."

She actually asked about my drinking. Oh well. I lied for now. Drinking is not my problem. I drink to dull my anger. I drink to forget my feelings. I drink because I feel invincible. OK, that is a problem, but it pales in comparison to whatever else I have going on. And plus, that has nothing to do with why I am there. I am not there to work on my drinking. I am there to alleviate my anger. It's good to have some, it gives me my edge, it keeps me sharp. But too much is a burden and is affecting everything I do. Why should I care if you assholes like American Idol? YOU are the idiots, not me. YOU suck for listening to Ashlee Simpson, and watching Desperate Housewives, not me. YOU. Suck my cock.

I know with a little help, I can let it go. But I don't want to let it all go. I like arguing. I'm good at it. It's fun to me. I like making others feel stupid. LOVE it even.

Well, maybe I'm on the road to recovery. Maybe not. Should be interesting. Everyone who hears what I've been through seems honestly amazed that I can talk about it at all. Sure, its been a tough road at times. But unlike most of you pussies, I don't blame my problems on everyone else. I shoulder it, I take it and carry the weight, no matter how fucking heavy it is. That's where I differ from most people; they cry like fags, and I get mad. I focus my anger on people that deserve my wrath. Or at least I try to.

So to everyone who doesn't like it: blow me. You know me, you know what I am and what I do. My life is an open book. So if you have a problem with me, either say it to me or shut your worthless mouth. No one cares about people without the guts to say it to someone's face. If you trust other people's opinions over your own feelings, I hate your fucking guts. If you are a back talker, I hope you choke to death. If you lie to people that you say are important to you, you should be executed. And if you are a low I.Q. idiot who breeds and breeds with no regard for ramifications, only concentrating on the fact that "babies are cute", then I hate you the most. No one wants to be with people like you. That's why you have kids and no husband. Enjoy being slightly below mediocre for the rest of your life.

God, I have women issues. I wonder why?

Women are sluts. I hate you all, unless you are hot and want to have sex with me.

There will be fucking murders, and other things

"American Idol" is one of those things that really pisses me off. It has no right to, its just another low-brow reality show that brainwashes millions of suggestive idiots into buying / watching something they wouldn't normally buy / watch. But I was reading while a certain someone, who shall remain nameless, was watching the last show, or next to last show, or something, tonight. Let me tell you - it was the worst television program I have ever seen. The absolute worst.

First and foremost, Paula Abdul is a fucking disaster. She is a disgrace to humanity. The fact that someone has not killed her yet is incredible to me. She talks like she is loaded all the time. Not that I have a problem with that, but she sounds like a fucking idiot. When I am drunk, I still make sense. She also claps like a retard. Honestly, who claps with their fingers spread apart like that? She looks like she belongs in the "special room" at school. Everything she says is completely and utterly worthless. She praises everyone, every single time. Everything was good. Everything was special. Everyone is talented. And every time a man performs, she looks and acts like she is about to cream her pants in delight. From the looks of things, I would guess that Paula Abdul has not been laid in about 8 or 9 years. I guess that would lead to a drinking problem for anyone. Also, she constantly interrupts the other judges when they are trying to say their own opinions. In the words of Samson Simpson: shutup, bitch!

Also, on this last (or second last, I don't care and wasn't paying enough attention to find out) show, they give the final contestants their "first single" to sing live. It is some crappy, piece of shit ballad that sounds like verbal feces. It is soft. It is sappy and ham-fisted. Even the judges hated the songs! Hilarious, considering that the contestants did not pick them at all. For some reason, a choir always comes out to sing with the contestant about halfway through the song. I guess this is meant to add drama and flair, but instead it comes off as cheesy and weak. Just like the show itself. If anyone actually enjoyed this show, email me your address and I will come to your house and kick the shit out of you, because you are an impressionable, worthless piece of trash who is incapable of thinking for his/herself. This was the bottom rung of entertainment, people.

Finally, I must adress the contestants themselves. The way that the judges talked, this fruity guy with gray hair who must be at least 45 is going to win this contest. And I must say, that is a fucking travesty. Because the other contestant, a younger female, is clearly the better singer. And she is more marketable. This is my way of saying that she is fucking HOT. Her name is Katherine or something, and she is absolutely beautiful. I think I might be in love with her, but some old fucking grandpa will win instead, only to fall off the earth in about 3 months just like every other worthless winner of this pointless contest.

Katherine, marry me. Everyone else, you suck and I hate your guts. I hope all the bad things in life happen to you, and only you. Kiss my ass, you rotten motherfuckers.

Now, onto the NBA playoffs. I love the playoffs, but one thing is really pissing me off. It has been ever since 2002.

The God-awful officiating. The NBA has the worst officials, hands down, of any major sport, ever. The refs FREQUENTLY decide the outcomes of games, and that sucks. Without shitty officiating, the Sacramento Kings would have gone to the NBA Finals in 2002 instead of the Lakers. It is beyond infuriating to watch the horrible, inconsistent calls. It makes me want to spew vomit. Without shitty refs, the Mavericks would have beaten the Spurs by 30 points two last night. Instead, it took overtime. The Mavs still won, which shows you just how fucking good they are. Here are some fun facts.

Tim Duncan nearly shot more free throws than the entire Dallas team combined. It was bullshit call after bullshit call. Every time someone breathed on that faggot cocksucker Duncan they called a foul. If they didn't, he turned around and cried like a woman. He did the same thing when he was called for a foul. This just in: Tim Duncan has never, ever committed a foul in his life. Ever. Everyone always says how he is so "underrated", and doesn't get the credit he deserves, and all that other bullshit. He is the most overrated player in the entire world right now. He is slow, stiff, and moves like a fucking robot. He can't shoot for shit, and has to rely on no-calls and dubious fouls on the other team to get his points. He is breaking down. Face it. MVP Tim Duncan is no more.

3 Mavericks fouled out, one in 13 minutes (!) and another in 25. Devin Harris had 5 fouls. The Mavs played 10 guys and ended up with 33 fouls. The Spurs, 8 guys and 25. No one fouled out. Even though Duncan went over the back on every single rebound he had, and that ugly balding turd Ginobli is a walking charge.

Fuck you, Dick Bavetta. I hate you. Let the best players decide who wins the game. The Mavs were better. Thank God they overcame the extra three players the Spurs had on the court last night.

Dirk rules. Fuck you, Duncan, you crybaby pussy.

Once again, back it's the INCREDIBLE

Alright, maybe I have a drinking problem.

I am drunk for like the 15th consecutive day. It takes the edge off how much life can suck at times. Especially in lieu of drugs, which make me laugh at anything, even death. God I miss weed sometimes.

My stomach hurts. I ate an egg sandwich again this morning, and was barely able to finish the fucker. I thought it would soak up all the booze still in my system, but it made my stomach growl louder. So I sat on the couch all day, watching baseball and preparing myself to drink vodka and iced tea again tonight.

They say that certain alcohol "angries up the blood". In my case, that is pretty much all alcohol. Specifically, Colt 45 Double Malt and Jaeger Bombs, but pretty much anything will make me a more pissed off version of my usual self. Luckily for fat people and douches everywhere, I saw none tonight. I guess even they deserve a break sometimes.

I'm out of chasers. I need more tea. Back in a few.

Anger Management! part 2

Alright, first off, I'm not as drunk as I was last night. Not yet. And, my now ex-girlfriend is not really "pretty fat", though she is pretty doughy in some places. Just wanted to clear that up. Although I DO still think she is acting like a stupid bitch. I mean, why have an opinion of your own when you can just listen to your dumbass, shitheel, low class friends that you never see? So I'm an arrogant cock, who is always angry at something. What else is new? Fuck them too. Fucking losers. And fuck your fucking mother, that stupid fat twat. Has she never heard of the phrase "mind your fucking business, you manatee?" Same to your fatass piece of trash sister. She can kiss my ass.

Enough bullshit. The point of this is, why shouldn't I be angry? What the fuck is there not to be angry about? Look around. The world basically sucks, the most powerful country in the world is being run by a fucking idiot, and horrible shit happens every single day, mostly perpetrated by other fucking idiots. I know I can't do anything about it, but does that mean I should just ignore it? You people are the idiots because you go about your lives like everything is O.K. IT ISN'T.

Even for someone with a good, upper class life like me, shit happens. People you care about die, usually way too soon (R.I.P. JD, DD, BS, LC - you are missed). Friends turn on you for stupid reasons, usually over some whore. Rejection is a part of life, I guess. But... why? Why should I or anyone else accept that? I have always gone through life not being afraid to tell people what I think, even if it means they will be offended by it. Like I said before: you want to kill me? You've got the right to try. If I wanted something, I took it, because that's what you have to do. Otherwise, you are a pussy, right?

In short, what is the point? Sure, I can get loaded and rip on fat chicks and pussies until I'm blue in the face, and then bang some stupid whore with no self esteem and daddy issues until she is sore, but in the end, the world is not any different. Is that any kind of life? Why does anyone care? I mean, my life rules compared to about 99% of people in the world, and I'm still pissed off. It doesn't make me feel better anymore to be superior to others. It used to, knowing that I was smarter and better looking and had more money then most people... but now that isn't enough. I need to make sure that other people are feeling as bad as I am.

Case in point: you know that new Adam Sandler movie, "Click", where he has a magic remote that controls life - pause, fast forward, or whatever? Here is my actual reaction upon seeing that preview for the first time, down to the exact word:

"Holy shit. If I had that fucking remote, I would pause it and rob people. And kick them in the balls, and punch them in the face."

J: "Why would you rob people?"

"What else would you do with it? Maybe feel girl's boobs, I guess."

J is my mother.

By the way, I start anger management next week. Should be fun.

Anger Management

Look, I'm pretty drunk right now. But still, I have been told that I need "anger management" by about 6 people in the last two weeks. To review:

1. My girlfriend said she needs "time alone" to think about things. This is her nice way of dumping me, I guess. So fuck her. She is pretty fat, and way too needy. I am handsome enough to attract hundreds of better girls with fewer kids than her, so why am I all worked up about it?

Answer: I love her, I guess. Maybe that makes me a tool, I don't know. But if she doesn't take me back sometime soon (women love to use manipulation as a tactic to get what they want) then she will be a lonely person forever. I honestly loved her, and I think she dumped me because I couldn't buy her enough presents to satisfy her. BITCH! You had a child! I am in shape! Lose 20 pounds and then talk to me! Why should I mix my incredible DNA with yours again? Oh, you want romance? Well, don't become pregnant at age 19 then, I will gladly provide it to you, you whore. Just admit that you cheated / wanted to cheat on me and I will shut up. Seriously. This whore was so into me that I had to do next to nothing for a year and a half to be with her and fuck her brains out. It was pretty good, I guess. Do I really love her? I think so. I never stuck with another girl for more than a few months. Take what you will. But she treated me like an asshole over the last month or so. That's why I'm so drunk right now.

2. Certain friends say that they hate to argue with me, because my brother is always on my side. Well, eat shit and die. He is my blood, of course he aligns with me. Just tell me you hate to argue with me because you are sick of being wrong. At least it will make sense then, you pussies. Fight me if you feel so strongly about something. I've been beat up before, I will be again. What do I care? You are all a bunch of fucking fruits anyway, compared to me. I kick ass. You suck. Fight me if you disagree. FRUITS!

3. I don't know. Maybe I want to make a point to myself. I am hammered. I love being in fights. If you want to kill me, you definitely have the right to try to. That is my motto. So bring it on. I will murder you like I have beaten the shit out of all the fucking tools that have come before you.

God, I hate you. I hate every person who is happy. Maybe I do need anger management.

Fuck off.

Migra! Migra!

That's right, I said it. Lately, these fucking immigrants have been protesting their right to have "full rights of U.S. citizens" because they snuck into the country and somehow secured a job at a sneaker factory or something.

Guess what? If you snuck in here, your lousy Mexican ass should be deported back to smelly-ville. Eat it. You have no right to complain about the conditions afforded to you, since you ARE NOT U.S. CITIZENS. Give it up, no one cares if you protest. No one will miss the pesos you do not pay by boycotting businesses. If you are willing to work for less than minimum wage, then fine, I agree with Maddox. But when you demand things from a country you don't belong to, it is retarded. I wish the border patrol could kill on sight.

I am not racist, I am simply a man who does not "punch a gift horse in the mouth". If the U.S. lets these lousy Mexicans remain in this country, then what right do they have to complain? You cannot walk into Best Buy after they close, illegally, by picking the lock, and then get all the DVD's you want for free!

I was born in the U.S. I know that makes me lucky. So to the rest of you fucks - tough shit. Don't come here if you're going to bitch and moan. No one cares what you think. Everyone hates you. Leave. You stink.

God, I hate stupid immigrants who think they "deserve" rights. We can find other people to work as road construction employees and janitors. Go back to Mexico if you find life here to oppressive. Oh yeah, I forgot. You illegally came here. So shut the fuck up.