okay. so i had this revelation just now. like, literally five minutes ago that those people. the ones in japan and china and where ever else it is those people come from, those people have got to be doing serious drugs. i mean, they have to be. i bet you any amount of money. anything you want, you got it if i’m wrong. but those people, right now, this very minute, they are sitting over there a million miles away smoking some serious weed. and they’re not stoppin’ there. im telling you, they’re fucking stoned out of their gourds. if it can get you high those bruthas are over there snortin’ it, smoking it, poking it sniffin and injectin it. because there ain’t no way. no possible way in haaaiiiillll those boys are anything close to sober. or sane.
me and matt, right? we’re sitting here watching t.v while he rubs my feet. and then, he gets up. and he grabs the bag of chips. right? seriously. and he’s eating them. like literally right NOW. so i’m all “uh, your hands were just on my feet!” and he’s all “uh. yeah. so what? i put your feet directly in my mouth.” and i’m just all….right. that makes perfect sense. so i’m all, “carry on.” then he says to me: “baby, you know what goes good with plain potato chips? TWIX!” and then he just ran in there to grab some more of both. seriously.
anyway. i digress. so the thing with those people. what’s on tv is, it’s this show. it’s called — oh we’re watching adult swim, by the way. on cartoon network. it’s a ritual. don’t ask. and don’t even start with me. we dig it. so the show that’s on, it’s called “perfect hair forever” and it’s like. it’s lsd and pcp and x all rolled into one. it’s like visiting some alternate reality. some place where, somehow, this whole thing makes perfect sense. it’s all so clear to you now. how could you have not seen it before? the shit those people come up with can not possibly be the result of any reasonable level of sanity. or sobriety. in fact, those humpers haven’t been sober and clean since 1943. what we’re seeing now. right in front of our eyes on the tv? this is the result. this is the byproduct of years of repression in a strict totalitarian society coupled with wild and reckless drug use. there’s a flying hot dog. it flies and smiles and talks in a really high voice. and he’s called “super action hotdog!” like that. you have to say the exclamation mark in the way you say his name. it’s a law or something. and there’s this guy who looks like a deadhead, only asian, and –oh. i guess an asian can also be a deadhead. that just occurred to me. they’re not mutually exclusive. — anyway. bah! i just lost my train of thought. the deadhead, right? he wears shades and he’s got hair like one of those troll dolls but only his glows in several different fluorescent colors and he sings and he’s dreadfully horny and inappropriate. and there’s all this innuendo and that lasts for about two minutes and then they just drop all pretense and have this girl on a turning stage on her hands and knees with little white panties showing her little white snatch under her little schoolgirl skirt. and there’s an audience. cut to, hell, i can’t even begin to explain this. it defies explanation. it freaks me right out.
like, there’s this whole sub culture that most people don’t even know exist. but it’s there. and it’s poking and smoking and snorting its way right out on your living room floors. and we laugh. we’re all like, “whoa that’s weird.” and just go on not even guessing for a minute that, and i kid you not, those people are sitting in a pool of their own vomit with a belt tied around their arm and eyes that don’t go anywhere. just pumping this shit out.
i don’t know, but i can tell you this ain’t no bugs bunny. … or IS it?
check it: come on. seriously. sign it.
and also: cat man will eff you up
(and also, i was going through all music earlier and i saw this video and mark used to be the front man for queens of the stone age but this is something new. and hot. it’s him. only, he’s doing Hank Williams’ Ramblin’ Man. and there’s this chick, isobel williams singing with him. it’s goooooood. but kinda naughty.)
and also, also, matt was my researcher for this particular entry and demanded! that i credit him as such. so here you go.
A Woman's Manifesto
Because a woman’s work is never done.
and is underpaid, or unpaid, or boring, or repetitious,
and we’re the first to get fired,
and what we look like is more important than what we do.
And if we get raped its our fault
and if we get beaten we must have provoked it
and if we raise our voices we’re nagging bitches
and if we enjoy sex we’re nymphos
and if we don’t we’re frigid
and if we love women it’s because we can’t get a real man
and if we ask our doctor too many questions we’re neurotic or pushy
and if we expect childcare we’re selfish
and if we stand up for our rights we’re aggressive and un-feminine
and if we don’t we’re typical weak females
and if we want to get married we’re out to trap a man
and if we don’t we’re unnatural
and because we still can’t get an adequate, safe contraceptive, but men can walk on the moon
and if we can’t cope or don’t want a pregnancy we’re made to feel guilty about abortion
and for lots and lots of other reasons
we are part of the women’s liberation movement.- Joyce Stevens, International Woman’s Day, 1975.

Man Vs. Heart Attack
I am somewhat worried about the dude on Man v Food. He isn’t looking so good these days and putting that food away like that can’t be good for him.
One should always be drunk. That's all that matters; that's our one imperative need. So as not to feel Time's horrible burden; one which breaks your shoulders and bows you down, you must get drunk without cease.
But with what? With wine, poetry, or virtue as you choose. But get drunk.
And if, at some time, on steps of a palace, in the green grass of a ditch, in the bleak solitude of your room, you are waking and the drunkenness has already abated, ask the wind, the wave, the stars, the clock, all that which flees, all that which groans, all that which rolls, all that which sings, all that which speaks, ask them, what time it is; and the wind, the wave, the stars, the birds, and the clock, they will all reply:
"It is time to get drunk!
So that you may not be the martyred slaves of Time, get drunk, get drunk, and never pause for rest! With wine, poetry, or virtue, as you choose!"
Charles Baudelaire












