Heart Shaped Bruised

Music: E.C. playing Patsy Cline, as he is suffering from the mumps. (see below)

I drink my beer with a shot glass. I don't think it's a habit I'll ever break, I'll never be willing to. I will, however, have to pick up a key-chain stop-watch, that way I'll be ready when an occasion of drinking is presented. The Power Hour has become an addiction, to the point where I can't tolerate the taste of beer without yelling the phrase 'slam time' every sixty seconds. Being an accomplished, published poet- I think I can form a pun for 'slam time' causing it to be the queue for a beer shot followed by a Shakespeare one-liner.

- "SLAM TIME!"
- "(shot of Red Dog)"
- " But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
And night doth nightly make grief's length seem stronger."

Genius, though I can't think of a partner who could keep up through an entire hour- or even a tall can's worth of quotations.

I've been consumed by the stock market. I speak and type in symbols. I correct the term 'Google' with 'GOOG', and Apple with 'AAPL' (the latter confuses people). I even occasionally correct the term 'Google' with 'HEY ASSHOLE THAT STOCK IS OVER 500, WHEN DO YOU THINK IT WILL SPLIT? YOU DONT KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT? FUCK OFF. HEY THAT GUY...'. It never ends.

The stock market is a gambler's dream. It offers a risk-free opportunity to gain free money. Sure, a true gambler will put hundreds on XM (XMSR) or WWE (WWE) and throw caution to the bloody wind- but a smart gambler will put thousands on AT&T (T) or Microsoft (MSFT) and walk away with free cash. It's a gambling game of patience, and it could put your children through college, or fund a reasonably size (and named) yacht. I'll be leading more towards the yacht at this stage in my life. I'm not a family man these days, those hours are behind me, or years-ahead-of-the-stock-market-in-front-of-me.

I am beginning to feel that annual football fever. It is the time where the Fantasy Football hype begins, the video games get released, and the stat projections run wild. I have never been more confident in any team like I am in this year's New England Patriots. C'mon... Brady, Moss, Maroney, Bruschi, Colvin... don't even look at me if you don't this team already has the Lombardi Trophy in their team-basement.

I've always been a Cowboys man first, a Pats guy second. This year, I am officially a Patriots supporter mainly. New England is my homeland, Tom Brady is the man I love. It is about time I face the facts- the Cowboys are my preteen team, back in the days where I only knew the names 'Emmitt Smith' and 'Barry Sanders' (and wasn't foolish enough to put Barry first). At this mature age, where I am a winner of eight thousand dollars in football gambling cash, the New England Patriots are my NFL passion, there isn't a team I would dream about putting first. Long story short... DYNASTY.

Plus, the 2K series is back. This is the most tingly of all news. We football fans have been trapped in the Madden universe for the last three years, and we finally have the greatest engine in football gaming to purchase. Despite the fact that EA has stolen the NFL license, and that we won't have up-to-date NFL rosters in the game, All Pro Football 2k8 will undoubtedly be the best sports game of the last thirty six months. Don't get me wrong, as a subscriber of GamezNFlix, I will most definitely spend many hours at the helm of Madden NFL '08, as well as NCAA Football '08- however, my undying love and support will forever lie in the controller of the 2k football series, the greatest of all pigskin developers.

I am a lover of all things delicate, whether it be baby dolls, their pacifiers, or the retail shelves that hold them. Most of all, this list includes... YOU.


[Ron Howard's Arrested Development narration voice.]
Now that, my friends, is how you write using the English language.
[/Ron Howard's Arrested Development narration voice.]


Oh, and for you fans of that overrated Napoleon Dynamite film, watch the real, original Napoleon Dynamite below:



And while we are on the subject that is America's & Britain's Greatest Voice, Pen, Hat, Glasses and Nose... I will leave you with a performance of his featuring Emmylou Harris. I dedicate it to anyone who is taking me to court at the year's moment.

Pounders, Night of 6/8/07

Me: "I wonder why this girl is buying me drinks..."

Jim: "Yeah..."

Drunk Guy: "WHO WANTS THIS DRINK?!!!!!!"

Me: "I wonder why this guy is buying me drinks..."

'Sylvia Plath... what a cunt.'

Satellite Of Love may be lost to me, but I am not giving up Sweet Jane without a fight.

There are certain songs that will be laced with a specific period in my life, whether it be until the end of it or until a future season warrants more nostalgia. I'm sure that most people can relate to this dilemma. I can already predict which tracks will queue the feeling of this Logan Echolls-esque Spring of my 2007:

Babe - Glassjaw
Rocking Horse Road - Elvis Costello
Only The Noble - Debracadabra
Lawyers Guns & Money - Warren Zevon
Whispering Reef - The Rondo Brothers feat. Daryl Palumbo

I am trying to add Sweet Jane to that list, thus removing it from the dreadful Winter of early 2007 set (alongside the lost Satellite Of Love). The journey began by listening to it six straight times while driving this morning.

The above songs will carry a strand of this Spring that'll cause a feeling of sickness every time I hear them for a very long time. But right now, they're relaxing. It's worth the trade.

Tonight is the night I rejoin the group of friends I lost last Christmas. We will all be meeting to celebrate my birthday, giving us a reason to drink and reminisce and slap that martini glass down as we argue over Daryl Palumbo's voice. I almost verbed these bouts a 'debate', but 'argue' is much more accurate.

I will hopefully have a number of pictures tomorrow, along with a helluva headache and an ugly woman sleeping in my bed.



In devastating news- Veronica Mars is gone. The last good show left on the CW (after Gilmores announced their exit) is canceled.
The final few episodes were some of the best, the characters were at their peak.
The show had such an original style to it, with varying shades of green in every scene.
A lot of the actors outside of the main cast were awful, and I think that only highlighted the humor of the show. Part of the fun of watching it was awaiting the next Big Lebowski reference.

It was incredible while it lasted. You don't get good mystery on television- at all. It's "whose going to suffer a voting off this week?" or some other punishment that an identical reality show character had suffered the week before. The Lilly Cain mystery of season one is unparalleled, and was executed perfectly. Season two's bus crash proved that the show was no fluke. Compared to the brilliance of these first 44 episodes, season three could be considered unfocused. But, once again, the last few hours could have been the best of all.

Good writing is even rarer, and a character like Logan Echolls comes once every four hundred seasons in television.

What's left? Wrestling, I guess.
One things for sure- Tuesdays are lost forever.