Man, I don't know what I was thinking, I should have been a secret... umm... office assistant first thing out of college. Sure, I've got to fax a lot of stuff and answer phones and transfer calls and play lots of solitaire and check my e-mail over and over, but that's pretty much it.

Today I adminstrated the offices of a super-sweet company, dig this: I've got a 19" flat panel monitor, T1 internet access, free fruit, juice, sodas, candy and free Slim Jims! I tell you, you know you're working at the right place when you've got access to complimentary spicy beef sticks.

Today I learned some valuable American Sign Language vocabulary courtesy of my darling Donna. Here is my vocabulary in its entirety:

Oral Sex
Don't Want
WTC Attack

I'm sure the phrase, "Sometimes I want turtle pussy, sometimes I want gay clown sex." Will serve me well someday.



Yesterday I saw a baby seat installed in passenger side of a Z3. I'm sorry, but once you have kids, it's time to sell the sports car and buy 3 or 4 minivans with the money. Am I the only person bothered by this?

Surpise! We're fat! And get this... it may not be healthy, not only emotionally, but physically unhealthy for young kids to be fat! What a shocker! Fortunately, tennis champ and hip skinny person Martina Navratilova is on the case, ready to rap with the kids and really communicate with them at their level:

Give up the video games, Navratilova advised: "You're not going to become Michael Jordan by playing Space Invaders."

*slaps forehead*... Well, apparently poor Martina has not seen a video game since 1978. Or, for that matter, watched a basketball game since 1999.

Regardless, I don't think too many of these kids getting fat playing Space Invaders really want to become Michael Jordan that badly. If they wanted to become Michael Jordan, they'd play Space Jam, duh. That or find a pair of magical beat-up old tennis shoes.

Now, I've been playing video games for as long as I can remember, so I've been at it for at least a week now, and let me tell you: I am a skinny mofo. 6 feet and 145 pounds soaking wet. In my experience, there are 3 kinds of gamers, really fat guys, really skinny guys, and folks who play Dance Dance Revolution. So, the best way to get these kids into shape would be to take away their PS2 controllers and get them DDR floor mats. Playing Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 3 with a DDR mat will whip any kid into shape... that or make his heart blast out of his chest like some kind of killer space beast. And if so, isn't it better that he die now than grow into a Doom-trained killing machine with low self-esteem and easy access to firearms?



That damn Cingular/Spider-Man commercial, while visually appealing, makes the claim, "When you're on the go as much as this guy, you don't want to have to worry about your roaming charges." What?! Spider-Man doesn't fucking travel across the U.S., he lives in New York City! He hardly ever leaves NYC! Am I the only person bothered by this?

Is everyone in the Limbaugh family fucking retarded? Apparently, U.S. Disctrict Court judge Stephen Limbaugh has ruled that video games aren't covered under the first amendment.

He ruled that since they don't have any sort of plot outside that needed to further the progress of the game, they don't actually tell stories or convey ideas. Ummm... Shouldn't he, deciding on such an important case, actually, you know... know something about what he's ruling on? I love how the legal system really doesn't have any sense of modern gaming beyond Doom.

If I were him, I'd be worried about thousands of well-armed FPS-trained killer teens with trenchcoats full of easily obtained firearms knocking on his door.

Apparently, Mark of the Unicorn, maker of high-end music software and audio hardware provides hot tips for their software in haiku form.

It's hot outside. And we have 2 kinds of ice cream vendors that come through our neighborhood. There's the Michoacan man who pushes the little cart, ringing his bell and yelling out... well...something, probably that he's selling ice cream, I don't understand much Spanish.

Then there's the ice cream truck. Now, maybe it's a Mexican thing, but when I was a kid the ice cream trucks played public domain hits like "Pop Goes The Weasel" or "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" on their little uniphonic PA music boxes or whatever they were. But the one that drives down the street here simply goes "dong...... dong........ dong......." It sounds more like I should be bringing out my dead than running to get ice cream. Come to think of it, though... I've never actually purchased ice cream from said truck (I'd always thought the pushcart man needed my money more). Now I'm kind of scared to.

While lunching at Iguana's Tacqueria (Burritos as big as your head!) the other day, I came across an abandoned Chick tract. Specifically, it was "The Mad Machine", a little piece about how if you have a mental disorder, face violence, and can't afford anything, then the only answer is Jesus Christ. Unfortunately, it had been trod upon and is in no real condition to be kept. It's been years since I've seen a genuine Chick tract, and they're just as wacky as they ever were.

Somehow I can't imagine that these mini-comics are any more effective than actually talking to somone, especially considering that many of them are tailor-made to be antagonistic towards homosexuals, Muslims, Catholics, etc.

Now, according to these tracts, Satan himself and his band of loyal demons are always out to get people, poisoning their drinks, dressing up like people, etc, in their attempts to get them to burn in hell for eternity, which is what Satan wants, for some reason. Now, God and his angels were major players back in the day when they went aorund blwoing up sinful cities, parting the oceans and flooding the whole planet and whatnot. Now, is GOd just tired of performing miracles? I mean, we get Jesus' face in the bark of a tree every now and then, but why does he rely on ineffectual people to get folks over to his side when he's so omnipotent? And what about those who never get witnessed to, or who never even heard of Christianity? Are they just shit out of luck and burn in hell?

According to the tracts, if you don't accept Jesus Christ as your savior, even if you're the nicest, most caring person in the world, you burn, since none of us is perfect enough to get into heaven. So God is essentially the owner fo this hip club called heaven, and you can't get past the velvet rope unless you're personal friends with this bouncer Jesus. Why doesn't God just change the rules a little, so that good people get into heaven? Is there only so much room? Considering that billions of people have died without even hearing of the name Jesus, it seems a little unfair. People do not genetically come with a JC-gene that lets them know to accept Christ as their savior.

Maybe if God wasn't so lazy, he could take some time to do some witnessing himself. I know I'd be far more convinced if the creator of the universe let me know the good word personally rather than some shouty guy on a streetcorner tossing out comic books. Even if He's busy running the universe, a public appearance or two couldn't hurt. And even if it only saves one peron, wouldn't it be worth his time?


John Romita Jr., current artist for the Spider-man comic book series, is going for a world record for longest time spent sketching. Not only is he doing it to get a world record, but he's selling the sketches for $25 apiece to earn money to help his neice, who has a brain tumor. Now, I've seen fundraisers, but this is cool. Unfortunately, I don't live in NY, nor do I have any spare money, but I really hope he gets that record and raises the cash to save the kid.

Spotted a window decal in one of those pickup trucks with 4 wheels on the rear axle which had an American flag with the words "Payback is so sweet" written underneath. I can only assume he's talking about our ongoing "War on Terrorism".

So in order to show support for his beliefs with an apt analogy, after he cut me off I followed him home and beat his family to death with their own mailbox.


Ooh, I got fan mail today. Fan mail is rad. I even got a bizarre link out of the deal. I feel almost, but probably not quite as super as this gentleman.

Steve and Rhea came up and visited me this past weekend. Steve makes up the other half of Hence The Name. In my typically corrupting fashion I introduced them both to Indian tobacco and Grand Theft Auto 3, which are the primary causes of juvenile deliquency in the U.S. currently.

It's definintely odd being in a band with one other guy who lives about 333.9 miles away, but he really does bust out the funky shit. I guess it's more of a musical collective than a band, since we generally do our own pieces. In fact, it's pretty much a friendly competition, at least for me. Whenever I hear how he's sampling the television and making it into some new and zany music, I start scouring the net for some shred of retro culture I can slice up and paste in front of a hip-hop breakbeat.

I was trying to figure out exactly what our music meant recently. And I'll be damned if we really put any thought into presenting an actual conscious message with it. I guess it comes down to: This is what happens when kids grow up with the television/video game culture that we grew up with. Now we just have to start worrying that there's going to be two other kids in the future who grew up with Power Rangers, Pokemon and Harry Potter who decide to document their influences in a similar manner.

Now, not to make any blanket generalizations or anything, but kids TV these days sucks total ass. The scary part is, looking back on the shows we watched when we were kids, they sucked ass, too. Of course, typing these words is extremely difficult (I'm having my trained monkey do it for me), because I hold such fondness for them. My only answer: kids are idiots, I know I was. And if they grow up on this kind of crap, they'll be unable to distinguish between quality entertainment and mindless drivel. Look at how I've turned out! I'd probably go and see Resident Evil again if anyone would go with me.

So, if you're a parent or planning on becoming one, heed my advice: do not only check to see if the shows your kids watch are violent or contain sexual situations, make sure your kids are not watching pointless drivel. You're an adult, teach them the difference between Harry Potter the well-written and captivating (if somewhat formulaic) book series, and Harry Potter the marketing juggernaut, which churns out shampoo with lightning bolts cut out of the bottle, for crying out loud. Let them know that it is not okay to base a television series on a line of toys. Let your kids know that they are indivduals, not target markets! It's too late for me, I may have to borrow money from my parents to pay rent, and yet I'm sad that I can't go see Blade 2 or buy a complete set of Train Transformers. Save your kids!

This has been a Public service announcement for the Attention Deficit Society of America, and funded in part by The Children's Television Workshop, you know... those guys who did Sesame Street. Do you think Cookie Monster was supposed to teach children about the horrors of addiction? Okay, I'll stop now.