Day...um...I don't even know anymore

I haven't posted in a while. You the reader may be asking yourself "why haven't you been writing?" Well for one, when I say "you the reader" the only people I'm referring to are the legion of ghosts I've populated my house with, they're the only ones who read this. Oh yeah that worked by the way. But the ghosts ended up being a lot less fun than expected. They mostly just wander around moaning and looking melancholy. You're dead, get over it, let's be friends.

So as I'm sitting here, so bored that once again I don't care that my mother has possession of the remote control, I'm forced to watch the hit(?) CBS crime drama for retards "Criminal Minds". I've never seen this show before. That however does not stop me from assuming that the show sucks. It's just one of those shows that you see previews for while watching an NFL game and think to yourself "CBS, watching football on your channel is the definition of necessary evil, because you suck."

Criminal minds is like "Law&Order" with twice the gore and messed up crimes and half the intelligence, attempts at realism (and Law&Order is by no means realistic, my attorney parents point out its flaws all the time) and quality actors. If you wonder what fans of Nancy Grace do on Wednesday nights, they watch "Criminal Minds".

I once read that most newspapers and magazines are written so that someone at an eighth grade reading level could comprehend the content. I read this like thirteen years ago though so I didn't really understand what was being said. I had actually gotten lost in the newspaper on my way to the comic strip "Baby Blues", those crazy babies say the craziest things, but in a weird way, they kind of make sense. It really makes you think. However "Criminal Minds" does not make you think. Yes, I am claiming that "Baby Blues" offers richer intellectual content than "Criminal Minds".

As I said, most magazines and newspapers are written to the reading level of an eighth grader (or somewhere near there). The scripts for "Criminal Minds" are written to level of an inbred Appalachian fourth grader with a learning disability whose attention can only be retained by shiny colors, graphic violence, and sexually attractive thirty somethings (is that a fucked up fourth grader, or a normal fourth grader?)

The infinite monkey theorem states that a monkey hitting keys at random on a typewriter keyboard for an infinite amount of time will at some point produce the works of William Shakespeare. I'm not sure if this is true, but if it is, I'm pretty sure a couple thousand years before the monkey cranks out some Shakespeare he'll have completed at least a season of "Criminal Minds". Could the show be early results of this experiment actually taking place? My head tells me yes, but my heart...also says yes. So, yes, that's what's happening here.

So, as the clock struck 8PM and my mother, being over fifty, kept the television on CBS, I had no choice but to watch "Criminal Minds". I decided to save anyone curious enough to ever watch "Criminal Minds" the trouble by giving a play by play of the episode, to illustrate just how bad, bland, and unoriginal this show is. I did my best to follow along. Let me just say, this one's a doozy, or more likely a completely normal episode of "Criminal Minds"

Criminal Minds Play by Play:

- Sexy black guy has apparently become "team leader" of the Criminal Minds FBI unit, but only temporarily replacing Greg from "Dharma and Greg", and despite the fact that Greg is still on the team. I missed the first five minutes so I don't know why, but my guess is, Greg is having some internal struggle, this show is deep.

- There's some weird edgy guy with long hair, he knows a lot about science and wears vests over hip button downs with rolled up sleeves, he also has long hair. Dude's edgy as fuck.

- Crime team is on a sexy, private plane (that's how the FBI rolls, bad ass private jets, join today!) making a game plan for the crime scene investigation, which I guess is in a different state. Sexy black guy has an awkward, "oh no I'm the team leader now!" moment. Everyone looks awkward. But the team gets over it quickly, they're pros.

- Weirdly dressed edgy girl calls edgy guy, she gives him info she looked up in her dark computer room she never leaves on her database of everything, edgy guy busts out some science. He's weird because he's smart, he says that sometimes people eat eyeballs so that might be why the guy cut out the eyeballs. It's like I'm really solving a crime right along with the FBI!

- OH MY GOD THEY JUST DID A SMASH CUT TO THE MURDERER EATING EYE BALLS OH FUCK THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING OH SHIT FUCK FUCK FUCK MY SHIT WHAT FUUUCK WTF WTF WTF THIS IS SO GROSS!!.......oh he's just eating eggs. You got me Criminal minds, you crazy bastards, that was a nice little camera trick, and those eggs did look like eyes OH SHIT THAT WAS THE MURDERER EATING EGGS BUT HE JUST BUSTED OUT THE REAL EYES HE'S KEEPING IN A JAR WTF WTF WTF OMG FUCK FUCK FUCK

- Sexy black guy talks to crying sexy victim, she's the girl's sister. She says they can't cremate her sister because they need all of her, including the eyes, or else her sister's soul will be cursed, apparently she's some weird religion. She's brown so should I have guessed that? Or is it a coincidence? Who's racist here me or CBS? Sexy victim asks, direct quote: "Can you find her eyes for us?", sexy black guy says he isn't sure. I guess this is the B story since they've completely abandoned Greg's inner struggle angle.

- Twenty minutes into the show and after three murders Joe Mantegna says he has a bad feeling about the serial killer that murders people and cuts out his victims' eyes. Greg from "Dharma and Greg" agrees. I also agree.

- In a dark, cold spooky autopsy lab, we hear some eye science, and they again figure out that the killer is keeping the eyes.

- CUT TO: Killer doing something devious

-CUT TO: a woman jogging at night, down a dark path, OH FUCK killer sets off a booby trap, it's a trip wire. Woman is confused but doesn't seem too concerned. The killer kills her, she's dead. The death toll is up to 4 in about twenty five minutes. I have no idea if this is a high or low number for this show, but it feels pretty average.

- Crime scene, jogger's dead, eyes gone. The team is concerned.

- Edgy guy talks to weird girl in computer room. She is searching the everything database to find specific answers to specific questions. She works quickly, but needs more time.

- Greg, using his power of detection, dissects the crime scene with sexy black guy and sexy lady detective. They figured out the killer's booby trap.

- CUT TO: Killer putting eyeballs in a jar, this guy is CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZY

- "This guy is taking people's eyes, he's defiinitely disturbed", another astute observation from Joe Mantegna.

- Sexy black guy is worried about too much information leaking to the press. He doesn't want the public to be too scared by the eye ball killer, just a little scared.

- Greg and sexy black guy bicker at each other over strategy for a moment, uh oh, but the situation is quickly resolved. Then Joe Mantegna says "He's a natural leader just like yourself, what happens when he's asked to step down?" Joe Mantegna has a really easy job.

- CUT TO: The killer fashioning an eye ball scoop like blacksmiths of old.

- Criminal Minds team in front of murder photos talking to the press or something

- Press conference talking about the killer...it looks official

- Cut back and forth between the two

- Shit's getting real

- Killer looks deviously through some bushes, yearning to use his new eyeball scoop on a young couple sitting alone on a park bench at night mere hours after the press conference has let the public know about the killer who kills people and cuts out their eyeballs hanging around town.

- An official looking old lady is concerned about the solidity of the Criminal Minds team, sexy black guy reassures her, "this team is solid", five line conversation is over, dramatic moment to say the least.

- Killer stalks his prey in the park, and apparently has the ability to turn off the power for the four street lamps in the park. The couple gets scared, also the woman's cell phone isn't working, could it be the killer jamming the signal? The couple runs away, but without the four street lamps illuminated the park is pitch black. The couple "can't see anything!!!", I know this because they said it three times. The couple keeps running. The killer catches the guy and kills him. The girl is scared as the killer approaches. He is wearing night vision goggles. I have no idea where he got those. Cut to commercial before we see what happens to the girl. I'm guessing she doesn't have eyes anymore though.

- Sexy black guy looks over crime photos, confused, tired, conflicted, he's having trouble with this case. Right about now he's thinking "Oh man, my first time as team leader and this is my case?" The audience can really relate. Great writing. Joe Mantegna walks in and quickly reassures sexy black guy that he can do this. Joe Mantegna are you even trying? Whatever, it's nice to get a steady paycheck isn't it? I wouldn't know.

- At the crime scene, the killer only took the girl's eyes because he damaged the guy's eyes. Also his eyeball scoop worked really well.

- "I know this sounds crazy but here me out" says sexy black guy, he thinks the killer is a taxidermist. Aaaaand every middle aged woman in America now fears taxidermists.

- Weird girl looks over her computer database of everything and finds some info that helps out the team. "We may have something" muses Joe Mantegna...what the fuck Joe?

- Crazy looking taxidermist removes the eyes of a moose. Apparently creepy taxidermist has some money troubles according to the answering machine he bashes with a hammer. It is revealed that the killer puts the eyes he takes in the animals he preserves. Not really an explanation for it, but it's weird, and so is he, so it makes sense...perfect sense.

- Weird girl finds a ton information on her database of EVERYFUCKINGTHINGINTHEWORLD, including the killer's permanent record in grade school and his financial history, within three seconds.

- Team approaches the house, guns drawn, awww yeah, shit's going down. The team figures out the first murder, every single detail of it, after ten seconds in the house, despite finding only one clue. Within another forty seconds of investigation they've figured out the entire crime. These guys are good. If I ever get my eyes ripped out by a serial killer I Criminal Minds on the case, except Joe Mantegna. However I would like Mr. Mantegna to give my eulogy, after seeing this show it's pretty obvious now one can match his eloquence, insightful words, and generally calming demeanor. I'm not sure if the room would be full of dry eyes or wet ones.

- The killer's on the run, in a creepy rape van, with his left over eyeballs.

- The team figures out that all the killer has done his entire life is hunt and do taxidermy, so THAT'S why he's creepy and killing people! It's finally all coming together.

- Killer enters the house of a hot suburban woman. He drops off a preserved pig head, sexy suburbanite is pleased with the killer's work. The killer gets uncomfortably close and says "I need something from you" HE'S SOOOOOOO CREEPY, just like a serial killer would be, "Criminal Minds" is keepin' it real, real realistic that is. CUT TO: the same house, except dark, the team just showed up, is the woman still alive???? She answers the door. Phew. I guess that's just what the killer says when he collects the money he's owed, probably more effective ways to do that. Unless he isn't interested in repeat business. But then can you really expect much from a taxidermist serial killer?

-Hot nurse gets off a bus at night. Killer is probably stalking her. The team doesn't have much time. OH NO THE KILLER JUMPS OUT FROM BEHIND SOMETHING AND GRABS HER. Sexy nurse fights back and mases him (you go girl!!!), Greg hears a struggle and pulls out his gun. The killer overcomes the woman and knocks her unconscious and is about to gauge some juicy juicy eyes. Greg goes bad ass FBI on him and arrests the killer. The sexy nurse is still alive, she's frightened but she'll be okay. We cut away before Joe Mantegna can say something to calm her down, but I'm sure he does.

- Sexy black guy confronts Greg, saying he should've waited for back up. Greg says he was okay and had it under control, sexy black guy accepts this, knowing that as a generally by the books law enforcer that doesn't always play by the rules he would have done the same.

- Killer to hot FBI office lady "You know you've got...real pretty eyes", he would.

- FBI confiscates all the taxidermed (is that a word?) animals, they find the other eyes. Things are wrapping up nicely...a little too nicely? Could something be up? Nope, it's 8:47, probably not.

- Sexy black guy tells sexy crying victim that he found her sisters eyes. The curse is lifted. What curse? I don't know, I don't think she does either. So there's the B story again, thirty minutes later, and consuming a total of five minutes of screen time. Honestly, I'm disappointed, the only thing I was ever truly excited about was this mysterious curse that would cause people to burned for eternity if they weren't burned with their eyeballs.

- End with some ancient smart sounding quote and weird girl talking to sexy black guy. Sexy black guy references his penis to weird girl. Weird girl calls him a tease and then takes him to his new office that she decorated. Hooray what a nice ending. They solve crimes, but they're nice people too. Sexy law enforcers need a break every now and again.

- So with a new office and yet another dangerous eye scooping serial killer behind bars, sexy black guy can relax, a hard day's work completed. Life moves on. Except for Greg, who's in his office, struggling internally, but I guess we're saving that for another day.

After reading this I guess I've nitpicked a lot. I'm obviously not an expert on law enforcement. Also, I've only been to four murder scenes, and only in one of those was the victim missing eyes (but that was more of a decomposition issue), so it's not like I'm an expert on that either. However, I just feel like "Criminal Minds" is a little...um...what's the word...fucking stupid.

Day 46

It's been a while since I was gainfully employed, and part of me (the part that reads my bank statements, so the eyes I guess) misses having a job, but most of me realizes that if I did have a job right now it'd be a shitty one, and who wants that? The worst part about having a job that sucks isn't the bad pay, nor is it the annoying/demeaning work that you have to do. The worst part about having a shitty job is that, generally, shitty coworkers come with shitty jobs. It may be depressing to do something like making tacos in an assembly line or recording songs for Nickelback, but isn't what's more depressing the fact that you spend most of your day, most of your week, most of your life with the fat, retarded, possibly insane people you call your coworkers? And maybe Chad Kroeger too? For me that's the worst part by far. Throughout my high school and college life I've had numerous jobs. Some that sucked, some that were awesome, and in pretty much every single one the determining factor of whether or not I liked the job was if I liked the people I worked with or not. One of the worst paying jobs I ever had was maybe my favorite one of the bunch. Meanwhile jobs where I'd pull in some decent money were at times unbearable.

The reason the people at these jobs suck (if they suck), even the ones that payed well, is for one of two reasons. One, they are legitimately so dumb that they are incapable of obtaining employment that requires more intelligence than the minimal amount required of them at their current place of work (myself excluded of course). Two, if the job payed well (sometimes especially because the job payed "well") they are delusional idiots who think because they're making $27,000 a year and only have rent and minor bills as expenses, that they're ballers, and act as such (myself excluded, of course). I guess that was a really long winded way to say that people at these jobs are stupid, and subsequently annoying. Sorry, I really didn't have to write all that. It's just that, I don't have a word limit to reach or anything, but I feel bad when I don't fill up some space, SO LAY OFF ME!

The genuinely dumb ones you can't hate too much, they're just dumb. The good Lord didn't bless them with intelligence (or if he did their mom's lust for crack robbed them of it while they were still in the womb). Unfortunately these people sometimes do like to talk...to me. This generally doesn't end well for me because A) I don't care, and B) They're crazy. A few examples:

- A coworker of mine once explained to me why he had recently converted to a new religion. That religion? Ancient Egyptian. Yes, he had become an ardent follower of Osiris, Ra, Ptah, and the whole gang. He asked if I was interested in learning more about it, or possibly joining him in his quest to meet the great crocodile headed man in the sky, I declined, he gave me some literature anyway. Yeah, there was literature. At least it wasn't Scientology.

- One morning while doing some prep work at a restaurant, myself and an especially retarded former (possibly not so former) crack head got into an argument about why I wasn't cultured because I thought the show "Baretta" was stupid. If you're wondering why that came up it was because of the Robert Blake trial going on at the time. I thought it was a lame celebrity trial because Robert Blake was a lame celebrity. The crack addict countered by mentioning "Baretta". I acknowledged that twenty years ago it would have made for an interesting trial, but that since wasn't 1981 Robert Blake sucked, and that the show was stupid anyway. This is when she claimed that I wasn't in touch with culture. Twenty years from now, when a regular from the show "24" is on trial for something and I'm ironically on the other side of this argument (the moronic crack addicted side) I'll know that my life has come full circle, and then I'll weep.

- Maybe the most awkward first day I ever had on a job was the time my truck mate (yeah I had a job that involved riding in trucks, chainsaws too, because I'M A FUCKING MAN!) asked me about a bar I pointed out while driving by it. Did he ask me about the drink specials there? No. Did he ask me if attractive women frequented the establishment? I don't think he'd understand that sentence, and no. He asked me if a lot of (I'm debating whether or not to write this word out...ummmm no, not gonna do it, I know no one reads this blog but I'd hate for the first one to be a black person and then have them immediately hate me) "N Words" hung out there. Keep in mind at this point I had known this guy for about twenty minutes. But apparently that was an important concern for him. I wonder if after he said that he immediately felt awkward and thought to himself "Oh crap, man I hope he's as racist as me." Sorry buddy, not racist, but I am polite (or a social pussy, you decide!) and turned the other cheek on that comment. He turned out to be a pretty cool guy, and not even racist really, okay he was racist, but not hateful or violent, just ignorant and ill informed. Neither is good, but at least it's the lesser of two evils. Regardless, better first impressions have been made.

- I had to work on 9/11. While I was washing dishes a very opinionated (and very stupid) coworker of mine started spouting off theories and opinions on 9/11. She told me that Nostradamus had predicted it, apparently she had an encyclopedic knowledge of his predictions. If this is true then that's kind of messed up. I mean she told me this ON 9/11, why didn't she call up American Airlines or the FBI the night before? She also told me that the Bible had predicted 9/11, and that the government had robots, I don't know how the robots even related to anything, but she decided to bring it up. I think she was trying to sound smart, I'm pretty sure this was her thought process before bringing up the robots: robots=science=smart. She did look pretty smug every time she said the word robot. Of course she ruined it when she said things such as "robot like" and "robot stuff" instead of "robotics", but that's a tough thing to figure out. I think I'm setting the world record for using the word robot in a paragraph. I haven't read "I, Robot" though, so I can't be sure. All those "robot" 's counted by the way.

Anyway I asked her if, by robots, she meant military robots. She said yes. Then, since the show was mildly popular at the time, I asked her if by military robots, she meant BattleBots. She said yes. Maybe she thought since I was fifteen at the time I would believe her because she was an adult (although only her age could support that claim), but I definitely knew she was too dumb to realize that I was referencing a show about robots that fight each other for sport. In two thousand years when robots are treated as equals in society, this will be the equivalent of Christians being fed to lions in the Roman Coliseum . Except instead of being a forgiving religious people they'll be cold calculating robots...with gun hands.

I decided the conversation was too fun to end, so I asked my coworker what part of the Bible mentioned the robots, she said the Old Testament. So not even the New Testament, the newer part of the Bible, when BattleBots were a mere two thousand years away, nope, some prophet had predicted BattleBots some three to five thousand years ago apparently. Maybe that chariot of fire Elijah rides off to Heaven on was really some bad ass flame throwing robot, I wasn't there, I don't know. Either that or God saw fit to mention an obscure Comedy Central show to some confused ancient Israelite, maybe he was bored and felt like fucking with someone, or maybe he was lamenting aloud the fact that he had put Sean Salisbury on the waiting list for life. Either way she made an already terrible day worse, because when people say never forget, that's one of the things I remember.

Unlike the dumb coworkers, who were at their worst annoying, the people I worked with who I really despised were the ones who took their jobs too seriously, or thought they were cool because they made (what they thought was) a lot of money.

- There wasn't one person in particular who took their jobs too seriously, there were several, scores if you will. Generally these people were waitresses. I have both cooked and bussed tables at sit down restaurants, and I can say without hesitation, hell hath no fury like a bitchy waitress. I can fully empathize with waitresses, I've waited tables before, the job sucks. But you don't need to tell me I'm "fucking retarded" because I forgot to put French fries on your burger platter, I know I'm retarded, that's why I'm making the fries. It's rubbing salt in a wound, salt that could be used on those French fries you wasteful hooker. Also, you know what other job sucks? Cook. At least you get tipped when you're waiting tables.

Nothing good comes from being a cook. The old saying is true, shit rolls downhill, and at a restaurant it's no different. Everyone blames the cooks, for everything, shit rolls downhill right to the kitchen, which is dumb because shit is the last thing you want in a kitchen, it's just not sanitary, because it's poop. But honestly, who the fuck cares? You're a waitress, I'm a cook, I'll get the fries, or fix whatever mistake I made. 99% of people you wait on are understanding, and if they're not, fuck 'em. You don't need to be a huge bitch to me, the guy you see four times a week.

Bitchy waitresses do get their just desserts though, ironically sometimes it's by not giving them their desserts when they ask for it. One restaurant I cooked at, literally the second day on the job, a mean waitress comes back and asks for an order of something (can't remember what) and walks away. The interaction between her and the kitchen manager seemed harmless enough, definitely not friendly but it didn't look too unfriendly either. As soon as the waitress walks away I look at the ticket and start to grab the food to throw it on the grill or whatever. The kitchen manager stops me and the following conversation occurs:

Kitchen Manager: What are you doing?

Me: Um...getting the food, to cook.

KM: Naw, fuck her, she's a fuckin' bitch. She's not gettin' this.

Me: Why?

KM: Because she's a bitch.

Me: Oh...

KM: (looks at ticket) We'll put it on in twenty minutes (motions to ticket) sucks to be this douche bag.

Maybe being a cook was more fun than I first remembered.

- My least favorite type of person I've ever worked with though, by far, is the guy that thinks he's cool because he thinks he makes a lot of money. We've all at least met this guy. This guy sucks. This is the guy who thinks he has connections because he got his Ray Bans for 10% off. Never mind that the 10% was a mall discount (the discount you get at other stores if you work in the same mall). I'm pretty sure I worked with the king of these douche bags. The guy I worked with (who was unfortunately my boss) was a fat, dumb (really dumb, like had trouble spelling simple words dumb), and completely full of himself. So much so that he'd even brag about his diarrhea, which apparently was as frequent as his frivolous spending. This wasn't like funny "poop joke" "guy humor" bragging, this was just legit him explaining his diarrhea. This guy was basically every character from the film "Idiocracy" (funny movie if you haven't seen it).

Despite the fact that he was fat, out of shape, and didn't mountain bike, he bought a $2,000 mountain bike, and thought he was the coolest mother fucker in the world for doing it. If he dies of a heart attack in twenty (actually with his diet and horrific shape more like five) years it's because he decided to take a ride on his bike. His girlfriend was at best a but-her-face (not sure how to spell that) but the first conversation he ever had with me was about how hot is girlfriend is. He bragged that she was a 9/10. This may sound like sweet admiration of a boyfriend for his girlfriend, but two seconds later he said she'd be a 10/10 if it weren't for her thighs (this is the guy who's 250 lbs by the way). He wasn't talking about her to make conversation, he was talking about her to make himself seem really really cool. He then segued that conversation into one about some really sweet car he totally probably (not) used to own.

His taste in women was further on display when every time a hot girl walked by and was pointed out by someone other than him he scoffed and talked about how she either wasn't that hot or how he'd been with someone hotter (again, DOUBTFUL). Although maybe in his mind he had hooked up with hotter girls, because every time he pointed out a girl he thought was attractive, she looked fifteen, or was fifteen, it was creepy. If you think "Hello Kitty" is sexy, chase after Asians, not children. Between that and his diarrhea he may have been the most mentally AND physically unhealthy person I ever worked with. I don't think he ate anything other than pizza, nachos, meat, and soda. To further his douchedom, he always gave me shit for being unhealthy because I drank. Sure thing buddy. He claimed he didn't drink anymore because he got all his partying out of the way in high school (yeah he was "that guy" too). Maybe he did party a lot in high school, he was there for five years (yeah, he was "that guy" too, he was all kinds of douche bag).

But he wasn't just a douche. He was a bad person. He talked a ton of shit on other employees when they weren't there, stole sixty dollars from the register one night, and then made the entire staff pay it back. We knew it was him but couldn't prove it. Why did he need sixty dollars? Probably because he forgot he had an extra bill to pay and had blown all his money on obscure, $20 an issue, car magazines so he could whack off to cars he'd never own. He was OBSESSED with cars, if he does own a sweet car one day, he'll go from being the "that guy" he is now to the "that guy who has a cool car but is a total douche about it because he has nothing else going for him".

This may sound more bitter than entertaining at this point. But I don't really mind, because this guy may have been my least favorite person I've ever met, and I've met John Salley.

And that, 100,000 words later, is why I don't have a job. Because I don't want to work with these people...yeah, that's it.

Day 45

My posts have become more and more infrequent, which means one of two things: A) I'm lazy, or B) I'm like a crazy person in jail who talks to an empty wall all day but is slowly rambling less and becoming saner. I don't know which it is but I have had less of an urge to put on fashion shows with my old stuffed animals (part of that has to do with the fact that I had a knife pulled on me at the last fashion show, don't let the cute button noses and furry exteriors fool you, stuffed animals DO NOT fuck around). But anyway yeah, it's probably because I'm sane, or whatever I said, moving on...

One reason I haven't been writing as much is because I've started reading, like books and shit. Just one book actually, "The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection from the Living Dead", not exactly Tolstoy, although given the general retardation of society now-a-days it very well could be this generation's "War and Peace". Either way the book is pretty entertaining, and seeing how I'm kind of uninspired lately I thought I'd take (steal) a page from Max Brooks' highly entertaining book and write about an outrageous apocalypse or two. So without further ado:

My List of the Best and Worst Possible Apocalypses ie Things It'd be Fun to Kill/Terrible Ways to Die

The Worst Apocalypses (Terrible Ways to Die)

1) Global Warming (Roland Emmerich version)

First let me just warn everyone, Mr. Emmerich will be making a couple of appearances on this list since he only seems to make movies about the end of the world. In the last fifteen years, three of his six films have been about the end of the world. Another one of those six films was Godzilla, which was at least a disaster movie. Had the movie not been absolutely shitty, there could have been a sequel in which other radiation inflated iguanas from former French colonies in the South Pacific wreaked havoc all over the world. Was there any movie more likely to have a sequel that then suddenly had those sequel hopes unexpectedly killed off? Maybe Rosemary's Baby after the Roe v. Wade decision, but I really have no idea if that's true, I just really really hope it is.

Anyway, in "The Day After Tomorrow", weather kills people, you can't fight back against weather, and if you don't have the opportunity to blow some thing's head off, do you get any enjoyment out of the world ending? Getting killed by a giant tidal wave would suck, and here's why. Yes the sheer force of the wave would probably kill you instantly, so you wouldn't drown or anything, but the time between seeing the tidal wave and actual death is long enough to make you crap your pants in fear but too short for you to rip those pants off and find some hot girl to have hot apocalypse sex with. There are other types natural disasters that allot enough time for both, but not tidal waves. Pretty much every possible form of death in the global warming/bad weather apocalypse ensures either maximum discomfort or fear, and minimal enjoyment.

2) Global Warming (Al Gore version)

So far it's pretty fucking boring

3) Epic Alien Invasion

There are a couple different ways this has been portrayed, and this does not cover all of them. What I mean by "Epic Alien Invasion" is something along the lines of "War of the Worlds/"Independence Day". At first glance, these might seem pretty cool, but upon closer inspection it's pretty easy to tell that 99% of the population would have a pretty terrible time during these events. In both the examples I gave above, the average citizen is essentially helpless. Only military personnel have any chance at successfully fighting off these giant super powerful alien armies. Also the alien weapon of choice seems to be incineration, does exploding and burning alive seem like a bad way to die to anyone else? At least your wardrobe will survive, which is perhaps the greatest example ever of no one questioning Steven Spielberg. How it makes sense that clothes survive a heat ray but not the human body is beyond me, unless the heat ray is really just a "Left Behind" beam (isn't a sin to be naked though?). Really Spielberg? I know it's a movie about aliens, but come on.

The only way either of those scenarios would be enjoyable is if the aliens were actually retarded enough to invade a planet without immunizing themselves at all. Imagine this dream scenario, you're a male prostitute with a BAD case of herpes, and although at first a hassle, after the invasion begins it looks like your little problem has flared up at just the right time. Would there be anything more satisfying than killing evil space invaders with herpes? Just rub your junk on the doorknob, railings, and other household items you think the aliens would rummage through, all the while hiding in the attic with your box of Valtrex giggling to yourself as sweet, irritating justice is served. The only reason this isn't on the awesome list? You still have herpes.

4) Mayan Apocalypse

I actually first heard about the 2012 apocalypse back in the 90's. I don't know if that makes me cool because I was afraid of dying in 2012 before everyone else or what, but I mean yeah, probably it does. I remember watching a Discovery Channel special on it. The first time I ever heard the legend the TV told me that on December 21st, 2012 animals and nature were going to turn against humanity and that even inanimate objects and plants would become animate (or more animate) and start attacking humans. The TV special was pretty hilarious because it showed some guy getting choked because his tie was caught in a fax machine while his daughter was being, um...bitten I guess, by a hot waffle iron. I wonder where those actors are now?

Anyway at first I thought that it'd be kind of cool to have to fight off plants and waffle irons but then I realized that any weapon I tried to use would work against me. Guns would backfire, chainsaws would come undone and rip me in half, wood bats would splinter, metal bats would...do...something counterproductive. So the thought of trying to beat a waffle iron to death with my bare hands while "Lord of the Rings" trees attempted to sodomize me (they totally would) turned out to be a less than stellar way to go after all.

As far as the movie "2012" (Emmerich film number 3!), it falls back into the global warming category, there isn't much you can do to stop it, you don't have any time to have fun, and it's gonna be pretty painful and scary. Roland Emmerich, you have lame apocalypses.

5) Left Behind

I haven't seen the Left Behind series, but anything involving Kirk Cameron is probably gonna be pretty terrible.

The Best Apocalypses (Things It'd Be Fun to Kill)

1) Zombies

Yeah, I think we all saw this one coming. I won't elaborate too much because if you want to know how awesome a zombie apocalypse would be watch any of 100 different zombie movies, read the Max Brooks' books, or just use the power of imagination. I will say this, the zombie apocalypse would be far less enjoyable if the zombies were "runners". Runners are zombies that run, sprint really, and relentlessly try to eat you. I don't really think real zombies would be sprinters. Normal zombies shuffle (but are still a formidable opponent). That said "Zombieland" was awesome, and it had runners, and the first time I saw "28 Days Later" it was late, I was inebriated and alone, and went to bed really really scared. But just in case you're wondering why a zombie apocalypse would be awesome and don't want to watch and read awesome things, here's why...you get to kill dead people...any way you want. That. Is. Awesome.

2) Sneaky Aliens

This title is misleading. When I say sneaky aliens, I really just mean the aliens from "Signs". The only thing more fun than running around killing dead people with a chainsaw would be killing giant green aliens with a super soaker. If you haven't seen the movie "Signs", the aliens in it are vulnerable to water. It's like sulfuric acid to them. Why they came to a planet on which the deadliest substance known to their species covers 70% of the surface is unknown, but the good people at Hasbro Toys' water sports division will make sure they pay dearly for it. The one draw back is that the sneaky aliens are really sneaky, and would be fucking terrifying to go up against, and they fart poison out of their wrists. But I figure if you cover yourself in water, grab some super soakers, a water balloon launcher, and some beer and you could have yourself a fun little end of the world. If these aliens are as smart as they seem to be then their first order of business should be to take out all of the world's toy stores. We can only hope that they have as much trouble operating automatic doors as they do regular ones. Again, if you haven't seen the film, these aliens come to a planet filled with a deadly substance and simple tools they have no ability to use (they can't open doors, what the FUCK opens and closes their entrances?). Do you think they did any scouting or did they just show up to Earth and were like "Man, this is some bad fucking luck, whelp let's get out of here". Either way, killing aliens with toys that merely have the ability to blind children=fun.

3) Rise of the Machines

Let's say one day we invent artificial intelligence. And let's say on that same day we decide that Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics are unnecessary. Well, then we're fucked, but at least we'll be in for a hell of a ride. What separates fighting giant robot armies from giant alien armies is that humanity will have to conscript everyone since...um...I don't know, they just do. So everyone gets to fight, and kill robots! Are you seeing a trend here? Being actively involved in the apocalypse is a plus, being passively murdered by weather/the four horsemen/the weather/alien beams, not so much fun. Plus naked time travel may or may not be involved, and ensuring the survival of the species aka procreation aka apocalypse sex is not only a more than one time thing, it's downright patriotic. Worst case scenario? You get to perpetually live in the year 1999 after the machines conquer everything...actually that might kind of blow.

4) Asteroid/Comet

Apocalypse sex, that's it, that's all...and probably some awesome looting too.

That's the list. If I had to have my pick of best apocalypses, it'd be of the zombie variety, in case you were wondering.

Day 38

So I've been pretty busy lately. My parents, upset with the fact that I still don't have a job and also that I refuse to clean up after myself when I'm home, have forced me to do charity work. I've spent the last few days cleaning a homeless shelter or something. Literally I hate it so much I haven't even paid attention to where I am. I just assume it's a homeless shelter because everyone smells. It could be a hospital I guess, I don't really know, but the people that work there dress like they walked through a time portal in the back of a Walmart from 1994 so they probably aren't doctors. Either way it sucks. I have to get up early in the morning, I have to wear non sweatpants (if for no other reason than to distinguish myself from the people that call the shelter home), and since my parents claim that they need their cars for work I have to use public transportation.

Public transportation blows. I may be unemployed, and I may live with my parents, but I still have a rep. At least I can spin this volunteering thing to make me look caring or something. But how am I supposed to explain the fact that I share a ride with the bums I clean for?

"Oh my gosh you pick up the homeless people you volunteer for in the morning? That's so sweet!"

"Well, yeah, we pick them up, me and the uh...bus driver."

Literally I've seen one of the homeless people from the shelter on the bus. He recognized me too. You know you've hit a new low when you're on a bus and a homeless guy recognizes you. And they're so removed from social cues that they can't take the hint when you're blowing them off. They just keep chatting you up. I can't tell you how many half hearted "uh huh's" I threw this guy's way. The other day on the bus a different homeless guy was trying to talk to some black guy sitting a few spaces away, and about three words in the black dude just goes "Shut the fuck up!". It was awesome (and hilarious, mostly because he delivered the STFU in that perfect angry black guy voice). You could tell he was seasoned bus veteran, he wasn't gonna take shit from some dirty bum, he just wanted to be left alone. Unfortunately public transportation hasn't hardened me enough yet, I still try to politely ignore people that bother me on the bus.

Luckily most people on the bus actually don't want to talk. This is because everyone on the bus is pissed off. Why? Because they're on the bus. It may actually be impossible to simultaneously be in a good mood and be on the bus. Everyone looks like they have a tiny little storm cloud over their head. I don't blame them, I hate the bus too. The carpet is sticky and gross, the seats are too small which is ironic since most people on the bus are fat as fuck, and you know there's a good chance that at some point in the last 6 months someone has relieved themselves in your seat. And you pay for this privilege.

What's scary about riding the bus for me is that for all I know I could be looking at my future. Maybe that's why my parents are making me do this. I mean how many of these people at one point had a somewhat promising future, or were at least young? Man I need a job. The bus is kind of like a scared straight program on wheels.

Day 32

USA v Norway Men's Curling Live Blog

T-Minus 1 hour 30 minutes to game time. I'll be posting some pre-game thoughts in a bit, but right now I have some stuff to do so I can't...eating chips and salsa counts as stuff to do when you're unemployed.

30 Minutes to Game Time

I guess I'll take this time to preface the live blog a little bit. I haven't watched an ounce of Olympic coverage so far. It's pretty odd since I love sports and the only thing I've had on my hands these past few weeks more than time is myself, but I just keep forgetting. Then again isn't that generally what happens with the Winter Olympics? You just kinda forget about them. But that could be because most of the events are lame and the medal races aren't between world super powers, just random Nordic countries, Canada, and non-Asian countries with snowy mountains. Oh also the Southern Hemisphere isn't invited. You wanna play in the Winter Olympics Southern Hemisphere? Someone better colonize Antarctica. But I don't blame you if you don't feel like it, it's a bigger waste of money than signing up children for speed skating lessons.

Also apparently NBC's coverage sucks. Again I haven't been watching so I haven't really noticed. However I am currently watching the lead in to this curling match, it's Finland v China, women's ice hockey. There appear to be two announcers, and they seem to be not hating their lives, and not drunk because they don't give a shit. As far as I'm concerned that's pretty outstanding coverage for a women's hockey game, it's at least no worse than NBC's regular NHL coverage. I won't lie I'm kind of enjoying this game a little bit. Mostly because I'm pretty sure the Chinese women's team is just a bunch of prostitutes the Chinese government arrested and forced to learn hockey and compete in the Olympics. Hey it beats having to perform any sex act prefaced with the word "Shanghai", right? I know it's a country of one billion people but I still find it kind of hard to believe there are twenty Chinese women who enjoy playing ice hockey, and have the facilities to do so. I could be wrong though, hmm, maybe that's what happened to all those baby girls disappointed Chinese parents left in the country side. Just kidding, they were eaten by Chinese wolves (and in a fitting bit of irony I just hopped on a toboggan ride to hell making a joke about the Winter Olympics).

But the reason I'm not a huge fan of the Winter Olympics (curling and hockey aside) is because despite how hard NBC tries to fool me, winter is in no way majestic, or interesting. The fact that it just snowed a fuckton where I live only cements this belief for me. What's the only way to make walking the dog in 20 degree weather more miserable? How about I get wet while I do it. What's worse is the industrious kids that start roaming the neighborhood as soon as the snow stops falling. They show up at your door smiling and ready to make money. How the hell can they be happy about shoveling snow? Is this going to last their whole lives? If they get into their fifties and still enjoy clearing their driveways it'll actually be kind of funny. Shoveling snow is pretty much the surest way to get a heart attack, and possibly the only way you can metaphorically dig yourself a grave with a real shovel. I hate these kids, they're tools. Why? Because if 1) You're holding a shovel, and 2) You're happy about it, you're retarded.

My mom actually had the audacity to suggest I join the ranks of these little douche bags. Maybe that's why I hate them. I don't care how much money I owe to various financial institutions mom, I have a degree, I'm above physical labor. Things I'm not above? Drug dealing, prostitution, selling my blood, selling other people's blood, exotic animal trafficking, nude sculpting model, mime, nude mime (painted still of course) .

UPDATE

So it looks like this curling match is not on TV. The Russia v Latvia men's hockey game is on CNBC instead. Maybe I got the time wrong, that is an excellent possibility. What really makes me angry is that I cleared my whole schedule for this. There are other things I could've been doing at 11PM. Damnit, I'm going to bed. I apologize to my three readers.

Day 30

HAHAHAHAHAHA She responded!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The dream psychic finally responded to my fake dream that I posted under the brilliant alias William Friedricht. She was pretty, um, impressed I guess, with the dream. Here's the link. Post your fake dreams she WILL respond. Mocking peoples' dreams is fun.

http://www.facebook.com/topic.php?uid=280063897384&topic=12714

**UPDATE**

Here is the psychic's response to my fake dream, in case you're too lazy to follow the link. Also I just didn't feel like writing anything original.

Wow!! I have to say, this dream is up at the top of the disturbing ones I have read. Ok...to break this down for you, as bad as this nightmare seems it's actually a good dream. This means that there is something holding you back from something you want in your life. Don't worry about what people think or say, just go for what you want. The Bibles mean that you are self concious and might be a little too much. The diarrhea means that money is coming your way (yay)...the fire represents renewal. So, there will be a renewal of a past relationship or a new one is in the works. It doens't have to be romantic it can just be friendly. Watch for someone named Jeremy coming in your life. That part of the dream sounds prophetic. Don't be so hard on yourself either. Let things happen the way they need to.

Day 26

I have decided to attempt my first ever live blog. What will I be blogging? U.S. Men's Curling. I will be covering the American squad (is that what you call a curling team? I have a sneaking suspicion this is one of those sports where the team is called something foreign and retarded) as they take on the "Fightin' Bland White People" of Norway on February 16th at what I think is 9PM Pacific Time (11PM Central).

If you haven't watched curling, you're missing out. Although Olympic hockey is the main event and I get a lot of enjoyment out of watching the stoned retards of America make the country swell with national pride in the snowboarding events, curling is by far my favorite winter sport. There are few things more enjoyable in this world than watching obscure sports, drinking, and trying to figure out the rules and scoring. Don't believe me? Watch Australian Football, it will blow your fucking mind, or you'll think it's boring, but it blew my fucking mind.

So read my live blog and watch the Winter Olympics, because after all, according to NBC it's the only event that can truly claim to be a global phenomenon (or something like that, either way I think Africa disagrees).

Anyway, live blog, U.S. v Norway Men's Curling, Feb 16th 9PM Pacific, 11PM Central, 12AM East (fuck you Mountain time)

Day 25

I've been feeling pretty uninspired lately. Cough medicine will do that to you. Also, no, I don't have a cold. I'm sorry, was that too real for you? Can't handle reading about me sippin' on some Nyquil nectar? Well welcome to the 21st century! The day we invented sex robots became the day robotripping (solely because of the name) became the official 21st century way to trip balls. By the way, that thing only seems like half a robot. I think it'd be more like fucking a mannequin that a drunk, perverted Jim Henson created than an actual robot. But seeing as I'm on the fast track to soul crushing loneliness I'm not gonna knock something made with my best interests in mind. I can't wait until that thing gets delivered to my apartment in 20 years. Guaranteed the deliverybot (that's right, bot) shows up just as my upity mother of two neighbor walks outside, AND it turns out that the sexbot is the deliverybot's cousin, talk about awkward, that'd be just my luck.

In all honesty though, parents already give me dirty looks, and have for some time. I think, and this blog probably helps to support this, that a lot of parents think I'm a degenerate. They look at me and immediately pass judgment. Not everyone standing in line at 1 PM at the grocery store wearing pajama pants and holding a 30 pack of Natty Light is an asshole ya know. But then again I probably shouldn't strike up a conversation with their children either. I'm just trying to be friendly, it's either them or the homeless guy buying and wearing the exact same thing as me, and who the fuck wants to talk to that guy?

I also do inappropriate things around children. I regret that sentence. I can delete it? Eh fuck it I'm already here. What I meant by that sentence was that I often have social slip ups around children. You won't find any weird chat conversations or horrible websites on my laptop's hard drive. And I swear all that gay porn is from a fraternity prank. Maybe I should just give an example before peoples' minds start to run wild.

EXAMPLE: At the zoo last year I really, really, really wanted a snow cone. I knew there was a snow cone stand somewhere, but for the life of me I couldn't find it. I ended up settling for one of those Minute Maid frozen pink lemonade things. Those things suck, and I was pissed at my purchase, as it was the last of the money I had on me. Literally three minutes later I walk past the snow cone stand. It's hot as balls, all I wanted was a snow cone and I have a shitty frozen lemonade. The snow cone stand was awesome too. There was a giant block of ice and there were so many different colored bottles of syrup it looked like someone had jacked off a rainbow. Before I could stop myself I had screamed "FUUUUUUCK!!!!!!" in frustration. I immediately realized what I'd done, everyone had stopped, mostly little kids and bewildered parents, all giving me dirty looks. You can't fix that, but I tried. I finished my statement by screaming "TERRORISM!!" I looked around for support but my fixer didn't work. Now the parents had to explain to their children that I had said a bad word AND explain what terrorism was. At least I kept "ABORTION!!!" in the chamber.

This kind of thing happens a lot. Ironically that wasn't the first time I made dozens of families uncomfortable at the zoo. My senior year of high school during a half day a bunch of my friends and I got really stoned and went to the zoo. We ended up sitting on the ground outside the brand new hippo cage watching the hippos swim, our faces pressed against the glass, mesmerized like we were staring into the face of God. We stayed like that for at least an hour. Everyone knew what was up. Another way not to try to make amens to disgusted parents? "Uh, sorry, want my Dippin' Dots?" Attempt to hand Dippin' Dots to child.

But the easiest way to make yourself look like a jerk off to parents? Drunk sledding. Unless you're in a college town or live near a secluded hill, it's nearly impossible to go sledding without children present. And unless you still possess the childlike wonder of an eight year old, it's nearly impossible to go sledding without drinking. Why? Because it's awesome. Ask Canada. The problem? It's a pretty easy way to injure, or at least recklessly endanger, dozens of children. I don't like to get behind the wheel under the influence, but I do like to hop on the sled. Unfortunately those two experiences have a lot in common. Except replace a steering wheel with desperately trying to shift your weight, parked cars with children, and add an obscene a need for speed.

I just want those parents who give me dirty looks to know one thing...my bad.

P.S.

Proof reading this made me want to edit my life.

P.P.S.

Eh, whatever, I'm over it.

Day 21

My life is in shambles. I "went out" for the first time in weeks last night. Going out consisted of going over to my friends' house and watching TV. Let me put a disclaimer on this, I love my friends and wasn't expecting to do much, I just needed to get out of the house really. Not doing anything fun or exciting wasn't a big deal, I don't have any money really anyway.

What bothers me about last night is that, after drinking 4/6 of a six pack of Rolling Rock (that's not a gay beer, right? Whatever I like it, don't judge me) I realized something horrible, I've lost my tolerance, almost completely. Now I wasn't shitfaced, but I was abnormally buzzed off of four beers, FOUR BEERS! Do I have anything to be proud of anymore? I only weigh about 170 lbs, so if I don't have my alcohol tolerance built up you might as well just be slipping me roofies.

I suspected that my tolerance was slipping after a trip back to my old college town a few weeks ago. I was out on a Friday night with some friends and of course we were drinking. What sucks about losing your tolerance is that you don't realize it until it's too late. You don't have one beer and then go "Oh my I feel fuzzy, that's odd." What happens is you have nine beers and go "Why the fuck did I just take a shit in this alley?!?!" You lose your tolerance but not your drinking habits. My drinking habits? I don't pound drinks, but I finish them quickly, really quickly. I'm pretty ADD so I always have to be doing something with my hands. When I'm out it's drinking, I have a habit constantly sipping my drink. It doesn't sound like it but if I'm not having an interesting conversation or something the drink in my hand will be gone in about four minutes, and then I'll get another one.

So, there I am, taking shots and drinking beers like I usually do, not going crazy or anything, just having a normal night, and all the sudden I'm hit by a ton bricks. "Oh shit! Why am I so drunk? What time is it?" There are few worse feelings than being drunker than you want to be. I looked down at my phone, it's 10:30, FUCK. I can either keep drinking like I am and become that shitfaced guy at the bar or try and pace myself, which is an annoying and difficult task. The latter is my only real choice though, I hate being sloppy at a bar. To me, only the people playing Buck Hunter are lamer than the guy who's plastered by 11.

Quick Side Note: I love Buck Hunter, that game is the shit. Especially Buck Hunter: Safari, in one of the bonus levels you get to shoot chimpanzees, CHIMPANZEES! It's awesome! I don't think there could be a more entertaining hunting trip than chimps. In some sick way I'd feel like the Predator. If humans are the most dangerous game then what are chimps? The most adorable game? Anyway whenever I see people playing Buck Hunter at a crowded bar I definitely laugh at them, but that game is the shit. It might be the only time I simultaneously pity and envy someone.

Let's fast forward to the present. I'm standing in the liquor section of the grocery store looking over all the beer. If I'm not going to get drunk (which I wasn't planning on) I like to get a good six pack of beer. Looking around I want something I can sip on slowly and get at best a buzz. I decide on Rolling Rock, knowing that my tolerance is already dangerously low a beer like Sam Adams or something might pack a little bit too much of a punch. I grab the Rolling Rock and head to the check out aisle.

This doesn't have anything to do with the rest of the night but standing in line at a grocery store at 11 PM in the city is hell. There was only one aisle open and the line was huge. The people at the front of the line were a Bosnian couple who spoke almost no English and were trying to use about eight coupons they couldn't explain to the exceptionally retarded cashier. I had trouble trying to decide who's fault it was for holding up the line, but I eventually settled on the cashier. I assume that even though the Bosnians could barely speak English, they were at least still somewhat intelligent. I had no true way to gauge how smart they were, so I gave them the benefit of the doubt (by benefit of the doubt I mean that I assumed they were smarter than the nighttime cashier at the grocery store simply because they weren't the nighttime cashier at the grocery store).

This cashier was a train wreck. Sometimes, just by looking at someone, you can tell they're retarded, those times are awesome. First, and this is going to sound gay of me but, the woman had fake zebra print nails. You are not all there mentally if you truly think zebra print makes you look good. It's kind of ironic that in the wild zebra print is camouflage, but in the human world it highlights you...for being stupid. The zebra print nails were really just a footnote to her overall mental shortcomings. You could tell just by looking into her eyes. Her eyes looked like normal people look when they're blackout drunk, there was nothing there. No soul behind the eyes, just unwitting indifference. The kind of blank look that would lead you to believe that if a UFO landed in the parking lot and some kind of weird elephant-human hybrid walked out (like the Alabama mascot) she'd think they were ugly foreigners. Or to quote Werner Herzog in "Grizzly Man":

"And what haunts me, is that in all the faces of all the bears that Treadwell ever filmed, I discover no kinship, no understanding, no mercy. I see only the overwhelming indifference of nature. To me, there is no such thing as a secret world of the bears. And this blank stare speaks only of a half-bored interest in food."

Basically that's what this woman's eyes looked like.

The rest of the night played out pretty simply. I get through about four Rolling Rocks and have to tell myself to slow down. Rolling Rock might be the lightest full beer on the planet, and I'm floating. It was disgraceful, I felt pathetic. Luckily, in a random act of coolness, my mom bought some beer when she went grocery shopping, I'm gonna have to drink as much of that is possible, tonight, I mean the Super Bowl is tomorrow, I can't arrive unprepared. Here's hoping that O'Doul's Light in the basement does the trick.

Day 19

**UPDATE**

The fanpage (or my browser) is working correctly again and I posted the dream, now it's time to wait and see what her advice is. I'll be sure to let everyone know.

A friend of mine directed me to a Facebook fan page today. The page was his friend's mom's. Apparently she thinks she's psychic and will interpret your dreams on her fan page forum. Anyway my friend, being the sick bastard that he is, instead of encouraging this woman's psychic aspirations has instead just been posting "dreams" under fake Facebook accounts. These dreams range anywhere from plots of episodes from "Lost" to literally describing levels in the game "Doom" and multiplayer action in "Modern Warfare 2". The lady has no idea and it's glorious. I myself decided to partake in the fun, I created a phony account (William Friedricht, professional scuba diver) and wrote up a fake dream. I haven't posted it yet because for some reason I'm having trouble with my browser or something, but I will soon. For now I'll leave Mr. Friedricht's dream below and give you the link so you can read some of these other awesome "dreams". Also feel free to post your own, real or fake, because she seems very open to interpreting just about anything.

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Lisa-Marie-Pini/280063897384?v=app_2373072738&ref=nf

William Friedricht's Dream

As a professional scuba diver I guess you could say I'm always in over my head. But after having this dream recur for the better part of a month I just don't know what to do. This dream is a little embarrassing so I don't really know how else to prelude this dream, I guess I'll just do what I do best, dive right in. The dream always begins the same, with me, as an aging Bible salesman approaching a nice looking middle class home. I'm nervous, and my palms are sweating.

As I get closer and closer to the door I begin to sweat more and more and I can tell that I probably look pathetic. I knock on the door and a beastly woman answers. Not beastly in an ugly way but truly beast like, like she's an animal. Before I can even begin my sales pitch my stomach turns sour. I have diarrhea. I push past the beast woman and rush to the bathroom. I reach the toilet, barely.

As I relieve myself I hear a horrible sound outside, like grunting. For some reason I decide to look in the back of the toilet (I think this may be because I'm a naturally curious person, and am drawn to water, that's about the only part I can figure out) and find a German Luger handgun, etched on the handle of the gun is something written in Latin, but I can't read it. I have the urge to take the gun and I stuff it down my pants. The grunting is still going on.

When I leave the bathroom the beast has taken off its clothes (although it's mostly covered in hair) and is eating the Bibles I had in my suitcase. I get really scared and take the gun out of my pants. Suddenly I notice dozens of bodies covered in brown. At first I think it's old blood but then I realize it's diarrhea. Apparently the beast had lured me in by making me sick, just like the dead people.

This is where the dream skips, the only thing I remember is that the gun won't shoot. Now I'm running through a neighborhood but it's dark. It's scary too, jagged buildings and screams in the distance. I can't see the beast but it's pursuing me, I can feel it. I meet a rogue named Jeremy and he tries to make me get on a motorcycle, I'm afraid so he gives me a back massage. His left hand is hot as fire and is right hand is ice cold.

This is where everything changes. It's as if I've lept forward in time a few weeks. I'm sitting, somewhere, I don't even know where. I feel uneasy. Anxious. Again everything gets fuzzy. Then, I'm in front of the house where the beast lives. It's on fire. I dance around the flames, it's like I'm not that sweaty Bible salesmen but some kind of native, then Jeremy bursts out of the front door on his motorcycle, his hair whirling around in the wind and ash. He looks like a super hero.

That's all I remember, I now it's a lot, but I'm really unsure what it means. I've never had diarrhea and don't know anyone named Jeremy. It really unnerves me because I'm so sure of myself, especially when I'm in the water, but in my dreams lately I've just been so unsure of what to think. Thanks