I just set up two 19" wide screen monitors side by side. The cursor goes between the two monitors and I have two desktops on which to work. You can only imagine how small my penis is that I'm compensating with this kind of setup.

I just got done working out for the first time in a couple weeks. Felt good. I'll admit, the Valpolicella wine I'm drinking is not much of a post-workout drink; but fuck it, I'm Italian.

Speaking of Italy, I got about 50 pictures of Sara Rue emailed to me from a SR fan in Italy with grandiose wishes for her 27th birthday. I think it's been about a year since the Sara Rue camp threatened to sue me for the domain name I purchased (sararue.com). Indeed, they'll Rue the day they threatened me with legal action. You heard me... start ruing!

I guess there will probably be a lot of thirty-something fat guys like myself trimming down after Chris Penn was determined to have died of natural causes. Natural causes? I call bullshit. Every time some fat fuck drops dead before the age of forty-five and they call it "natural" I say they're full of shit. Die at 80 of natural causes. Die at 40 weighing three hundred pounds with a coke straw by your head and your wallet being pulled out of your pocket by some fifty dollar whore.

I'm not saying this is how Chris Penn died, but it sounds pretty goddamned probable. According to MSNBC: "Penn had suffered from an illness and used multiple drugs in the past," said David Smith, a Los Angeles County coroner’s spokesman. Smith declined to elaborate on the illness, but I'm guessing it was fatfuckitis. I've been a sufferer for years. Oh well, rest in peace Chris. Maybe in Heaven you won't have to be known only as the younger brother of Oscar winner and arrogant prick Sean Penn. I mean, no one that fucking cocky gets to go to Heaven, right?

Where am I going and what am I doing in this handbasket?

goochout.

Someone recently posted a comment about a post in the archives asking "who's the skank?" That skank happens to be a good friend of mine named Nikki, with whom I've been a friend since 1992 or 93.

I have a fear of needles and blood - specifically my own blood. So, when I get my blood drawn every month to check the levels of drug in my system to combat my bipolar disorder, I get a little nervous.

One of my nervous ticks is that I start to crack jokes to break the tension. The routine goes as follows: A nurse sits me down in a chair and has me outstretch my arm. Every time we do this she has another nurse come in because it's hard to find a vein in my arm. The second string nurse wasn't in today so I was going to have to go to another office.

Fuck.

The anticipation and waiting for that fucking needle to plow into my arm was killing me. I start spouting off: "You guys should hire a reformed heroine addict to be your full time phlebotomist. I mean... you're a nurse in an office and you can't draw blood from my arms yet a heroin junkie can find a vein in the dark under a bridge in the rain. I then shoot off onto another topic: Do you think that the telekinesis people on those shows where people bent spoons with the power of their mind were just really good heroin addicts just showing off? I mean... why was it always spoons?"

The nurse just shrugged me off as she left me alone in a neighboring office. I probably pissed her off, but I hates me a syringe... I tell you what!

I watched The Notebook a couple of nights back. My friend Nikki and I downed pints of ice cream while we watched. If we'd done each other's hair and talked about boys it would have been a great girls' slumber party.

Anyways, some people think that the Notebook is a great love story complete with a happy story resolution and a sad/heartwarming ending. I saw it pretty much as the Nazi from The Believer throwing a magnificient cock block at Cyclops from X-Men. There, it's been said. I mean... I would have called the film "The Greatest Cock Block of the '40s." But, that's just me.

I'm bitter.

I'm taking next week off from DJing hopefully. Going to try to detox myself a bit. Lots of water, exercise, etc.

January 18, 2006.

No, it's not a scene from Faces of Death 18

7:30am: Wake up to hangover. Look around to see if anyone is or was in bed with me. Search folds of comforter for remote control and push play on VCR. Pleasure myself to a preloaded Dyanna Lauren video. Fall back asleep for another 20 minutes.

7:50am: Wake up again and try to decide whether to urinate or vomit into toilet first. Concede that this may be the most important decision of the day.

8:00am: Check voice mail and there are two messages: First message is the Gregster informing me that he will not be in his office today. Second message is a stripper friend faking an orgasm and telling me in explicit detail what she wants me to do to her and where my bodily fluids should reside after previously stated act. I wish she could've left the message without making reference to my "chubby ass," but I'll take what I can get. She's better than the last blow job you got. I guarantee it.

8:30am: throw on last night's clothes which smell like smoke, spilled beer, and strippers and go to Wal Mart which also smells like smoke, spilled beer, and strippers. I purchase cleaning items, smoked oysters, Oxy Pads, a newspaper, Wine (Shiraz), and bottled water.

8:50am: Read the comics page while sitting at my kitchen table eating clam chowder mixed with smoked oysters. I continue to read until a comic makes me laugh out loud. Today it was Mother Goose and Grimm.

9:00am: Clean bathroom and haul computer equipment from downstairs hallway to office upstairs. Start to lose focus and sit in front of computer long enough to write this blog. Today will be interesting, I feel. I have no idea why. I'll keep you posted.

goochout

Wal-Mart Apologizes for Racist Software Glitch

Wal-Mart's attempt to mimic Amazon, NetFlix, and Blockbuster by providing an automated system that recommends movies based on the types of DVDs its customers previously ordered came to a crashing halt Thursday after blogs spread the word that the Planet of the Apes DVD was linked to 'Similar Items' that included DVDs about Martin Luther King, Dorothy Dandridge, Jack Johnson and Tina Turner -- all notable African Americans. 'We are heartsick that this happened and are currently doing everything possible to correct the problem,' Wal-Mart spokeswoman Mona Williams said in a statement. 'We were horrified to discover that some hurtful and offensive combinations are being mapped together. ... We are deeply sorry that this happened.' The company gave no explanation for how the software program managed to select only films about African-Americans for the recommendations. "

CNN.com - We Want to Know Why

The family of 12 trapped miners were told that their loved ones were alive and told three hours later that they were, in fact, dead?

I'm waiting for Ashton Kutcher to come out... it's like the worst Punk'd ever.