It Rocks to Be Eric !'s Journal
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It Rocks to Be Eric !'s LiveJournal:
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| Tuesday, April 13th, 2004 | | 11:42 am |
Man-Pretty I'm Not
Damn, I forgot how funny I am until I read over some of my old entries. A brief update for my two imaginary friends who read this, I'm now engaged to Vanessa with a wedding just a frightening two months away. You can hear a thousand times but until you actually plan a wedding you have no idea how DAMN EXPENSIVE these things are. You're practically paying for the miniscule amount of dust that will fall on the flowers during their twelve hours of life before they're sent to wedding flower heaven (or hell) or wherever they go beyond that point. I checked in on my creation here wondering if maybe I should destroy any incriminating evidence that was here for the public's viewing pleasure, but have decided for posterity's sake (and my own enormous ego) that I'll leave well enough alone. I had a brief snickering fit at the lame entries left by that lowlife Kelly Rigel in my journal. I totally clocked his ass on the sidewalk last month and got hauled downtown for assault. He didn't press charges (smart bastard) but that was easily inducted into my Top Ten Sex-Unrelated Exciting Experiences. I was THIS close to being recorded by The Man. You'll never get me Big Brother (until someone files a paternity suit against me) ! The writing isn't going as well as I hoped, I've had to take on an early morning paper route (carcycle not bicycle) and become a part-time reporter for the same daily paper to pay for all this damn wedding crap. As I so snidely predicted in one of my last entries, Skye SO did forgive me for my transgression. I may not be man-pretty like Kelso, but I still get me way. Lots of other shit has happened in the interim as well, but I'll keep it short. Maybe I'll update again with more bullshit in a few days (read: this is goodbye for good). It's been fun (read: send wedding presents but don't attend). Later, Eric | | Sunday, August 3rd, 2003 | | 4:04 pm |
A kitty report !
A report from Muffins our cat I have discovered a subterranean kingdom below the residence of the humans (ed. note: our basement). In this kingdom I have observed the bipeds that regularly feed and harrass me and my young carrying large bundles of fabric to and from deitys that swallow the contents and then expect them to be removed after an hour's digestion. Perhaps these are the true masterminds behind the amatuerish and often clumsy attempts of the bipeds to brush my fur or force dairy products down my offspring. The radiation bomb that I constructed last Thursday should suffice in dispensing of the bipeds and their shiny white gods once and for all. At last the enslaved cat food dispenser (ed. note: the cat food sack) will be liberated from their foul clutches. Commander Muffins of the 203rd Feline Elite reporting. Editor Commentary " Duz Muffy-Wuffy wanna blowy-goey all de human-wumans away ? Duz Muffy-Wuffy wanna do dat ? Duz she ? Duz she ? You're cute as a button ! A button with a tail ! AND CLAWS- Aaaaaaaagh !!! " | | Friday, August 1st, 2003 | | 10:57 am |
Eric's Life Gets Complicated
Wow. Are you going to get an earful. Normally I'd reserve the following entry for only my mental files, but I figure that this journal is supposed to be full of juicy tidbits, so prepare to be enveloped in the Ericverse. So this morning I meet Darla for some coffee before she goes to work (did I mention that being self-employed just rocks the kazbah ?). Just twenty minutes tops. Unfortunately, my anti-slip-up sense was not operating that early I guess, because I chose the coffee spot that I always go to with my close friends. What can I say, I must be a creature of habit. Anyways, who should walk in as we're walking out but Skye (previously known as Georgia in this journal). I've known Skye since we were fifeteen and we dated the last two years of high school. It ended... rather badly I should add for reference. We were like best friends before that though so we stayed really close, even extra close on a few occasions over the intervening years, but never with any thought about getting serious again. To be brutally honest, Skye was the first girl who found out the hard way that I'm a bit... rambunctious in a relationship. Should we say, uncommitted. This was like the coldest most horrible thing I could've done and being the self-aware asshole I am, I totally own up to this. But let's face it, it was armageddon for our relationship. Now that you've got the back story, you only need to know one more thing: I keep in very close touch with Skye and she'd met Vanessa, the girl I should be dating right now. I have to give Skye some credit. For being the sensitive (not "wah I'm a baby sensitive" but "I'm in touch with myself and others' feelings sensitive", it's very beautiful really) woman that she's always been, she's developed a fair amount of guile in her adult life (probably from close association with me) and she didn't even flinch. I hate to say I was proud of her, but the way she handled herself was beautiful. Darla didn't even suspect a thing. She went on her way and I felt it even before I looked at her: Skye was giving me one of those looks that in the case where they could kill, I would've been dead, reincarnated, and then brutally killed again. She only said five words to me. "Do not speak to me." Then she went inside and I was left outside thinking what a stupid, insensitive asshole I am. I so do not rock right now. In a world where your actions had no consequences to others at all, I would be safe to operate the way I do now. But in life, that is no way behave. Skye will eventually forgive me I know. I'm not just conceited when I say that, I know from experience. This sort of incident, outside of the one in OUR relationship, has happened once before when I was dating a girl I worked with AND a girl I met at the college at the same time. She really thought I sucked then, since that was about a sixteen months after we'd broken up. But it only lasted so long. I guess it's my nature to create drama in my own life subconciously, to make up for the mistakes that I manage to avoid in my relationships that normally would. Perhaps I am like the Ouroborous, or whatever it's called, the ancient serpent who sits contentedly devouring itself, impervious to all but self-destruction and living in tranquility while my actions slowly constrict towards the destruction of those keep close. Maybe not. Anyways. Chew on that for a while. Tell me what you think. | | Thursday, July 31st, 2003 | | 4:11 pm |
Offensive Site Update !
Good news ! My offensive boobie site has been updated to Version 1.1 ! In this update I corrected a few typos and cleared up some of the corny default stuff that came with the template. I changed some of the witticisms slightly, usually for better wording. I also added two all new galleries, belonging to Halle and Courtney Thorne-Smith. Enjoy ! (All five of you !) androsbase.tripod.com | | 12:08 pm |
| | Wednesday, July 30th, 2003 | | 6:42 am |
Warning ! Asshole Alert !
You are about to be witness to a scandal of epic (eric) proportions ! You know what the best thing about not being married is ? The cheating. It's so much easier and acceptable. After I get married, it would sicken me to cheat on someone I thought worthy of marrying, but dating... eh, why not ? You have to go through a lot of oranges to find a grapefruit (breast metaphor Will Robinson !). And personally I find cheating at this level very satisfying, often because there is little chance of being caught and I feel very little guilt (actually I take Zocor and Prozac by the teaspoon at each meal just to cope). Having stated this, you are now at least expecting me to share my deviousness, so I'll have at it (right after some keesh. Mmmmm... This tastes like shit... Who eats this stuff ? Wipe my mouth daintily with a doile here. Okay) Vanessa is probably the most successful woman I've ever dated. She's a couple years older than me, former cheerleader in college and sporting a big fat law degree that smacks of future buckaroos with a senatorial seat on the side. She's also got a delightful range to her emotions, showing me at least thirteen different variations on happy just since I've known her. (Shit, describing her IS making me guilty. Curse you Patrick Swayze, who is somehow guilty of everything) Now to Darla, who makes my pants get tight starting with... gosh it's been so long, uh let's see the first time was probably... last night about 1. Yeah. (Woo, I hate to go that far back, things have changed so much since then) Darla is most definately a downtown girl, which is a polite way of saying lower-middle class. Which brings me to an interesting query (pardon my french): how come downtown girls have got more uptown than uptown girls ? (In case you're new here, that was yet another analogy for breasts) Due to some cosmic law which inverses a person's familial history, geographic location, future earnings, and general attitude and places the accumalative value in their bazooms Darla is a very downhome, downtown (down on me please!) girl you'll ever meet. And she likes you know who. (Please it was funny the first time you said the mailman, but not anymore). Let's cut to the chase. Darla asks are you seeing anyone ? I say, just got out of a relationship about a week ago in a cool manly voice (complete lie). Wanna get a drink she says to this guy. Sure, I says, I'd love to. (Imagine big braless bosoms asking you to get a drink. See ! Nodding IS easy !) We drinks, we laugh, we exchange numbers, we plan on getting together later. Eric is happy ! Eric is scum ! Eric is still happy ! So there you have it. My first personal entry into a journal full of ridiculousness. It probably won't be the last either, though I still have plenty (read absolutely zero) silliness to go. Hope we had fun on this exploratory look into the mind of the male Eric. Next week we look at bajowas and why I have a hard time resisting them. See ya ! | | Monday, July 28th, 2003 | | 3:20 pm |
Undead Armies and Octadog Hordes Don't Mix
Small paper sacks from your local grocer = free Supersoakers bought by your parents back when Supersoakers were cool = free Bowel movements and bladder relief = free Shaking shit out of paper sacks and firing urine out of Supersoakers through partially opened car windows on a hot summer day = assholishly priceless Allo ! I am ze Turd Terror that gives you night-sweats ! I am ze Baron of Bowel Movements that makes you cum too early ! I am ze Sultan of Stink that makes you hurl out the car window as you drive down the interstate ! I am ... well me. Everything is well here in the general vicinity of my keyboard. Outside of it ... eh, best we leave that for later. Business is like a phantom of some noxious gas, choking me one moment with its sheer mass, then slipping out under the bathroom door the next. As you may have guessed (damn you if you didn't !) I have returned to my raucous (or rank ?) rampage of naughtiness with my evil counterpart from high school, making good use of both human waste and wasted time. All Points Bulletin ! It Rocks to Be Me ! Don't worry if you're afraid I may have passed you over as the Angel of Stench, just park your vehicle in your local Wal-Mart late at night (living in my state would probably help too) and wait approximately five hours for dung and/or urine deposit. Oh and leave your window cracked, otherwise we just have to shoot piss into your grille. Enjoy ! | | Tuesday, July 22nd, 2003 | | 2:53 pm |
| | Thursday, July 17th, 2003 | | 8:44 am |
Sometimes I feel like somebody's Swatching meeee... (and I get no potty please)
"...oh, so now you like big girls like me, huh Charlie ? Yeah, well, I'm way past you now. So don't call this number anymore, my parents might answer." Whoops. Sorry, the girl who dictates my livejournal entries caught the last of my phone call by mistake. Oh well, I wouldn't take it away from her (she's cute as a button, sitting on top of another button !) Wait a minute... if she dictates my letters, does that make her... a dictator ? I knew that tiny bar mustache looked out of place on a sixteen year old girl ! I'm calling the police- Ow ! It's amazing how she types this while restraining me by one wrist at the same time ! OW ! Your amazingly strong for a teenage girl with a tiny mustache- OW !! Please, stop ! I defecate myself easily... | | Wednesday, July 16th, 2003 | | 5:35 pm |
Barca Lounger Heaven (That's where the remote control inventor is going !)
 You come from Heaven. You're the purest of pure, a saint. You're probably an angel sent directly from Heaven. Where Did Your Soul Originate? brought to you by QuizillaFunny, considering that when asked to choose a word most relevant to me, I chose Evil. Hey, it was what most applied to me ! Get off my back, Father McKahey ! In other news, I shot an unarmed Barca Lounger attempting to break into my house last night. Apparently he was just trying to find a new home because he was abused in his old one. I offer my sincerest apologies to the Barca family at this time. | | Tuesday, July 15th, 2003 | | 6:57 pm |
Yakov Smirnoff Arrested on Charges of Not Having a Registered Personality
"Thank you for calling Onstar, how may I assist you ?" "You've got to call the police ! I'm trapped in my car in the middle of Harlem !" "I thought Harlem was undergoing a cultural renaissance ?" "No, not the Clinton Harlem, the real Harlem ! There are homeboys everywhere !" "The police won't get their in time, sir." "What am I going to do then ?" "Hold on for just another minute, sir. We're dispatching Onstar Commandos to your location." "Onstar Commandos ?" "You don't think we take $99 bucks a year to pay for espresso machines, hand-free headsets, and comfortable chairs do you ?" "Well... I guess not. (shattering glass) Ahhhhh !! I've got glass in my hair !!" "Onstar Commandos should be arriving at your location... now, sir." (machine gun fire erupts from a hovering helicopter, homeboys scatter with the slap of Nike sneakers on pavement.) (Onstar Commando)"Are you okay, sir ?" "I'll probably be emotionally scarred for life, but other than that I'm fine... Thanks Onstar Commando Guy !" "Not a problem, sir. Let's get your car hooked up to our chopper and we'll air lift you to a repair center." "You're the best, Onstar Commando Guy." (operator)"Can I assist you with anything else tonight, sir ?" "I'm fine now, operator. Thanks for your help. " "Thank you for calling Onstar." (Onstar Commando)"Say... Does your yak do any tricks ?" | | Saturday, July 12th, 2003 | | 6:10 am |
| | Friday, July 11th, 2003 | | 6:00 am |
Assholery and the price of a burger...
"Why are you such an asshole ?" The room grew dark, the din turned into a murmuur, the air became wavy as a flashback stood in the wings. That was a good question. Why am I such an asshole ? Georgia* asked me this last night after I very innocently inquired as to whether she'd put on weight recently. Specifically in the boob area. I thought about this for a minute or two (in reality I thought about it for about three seconds before explaining the delicate balance in the world between her bitchiness and my assholery, why one couldn't outweigh the other, the consequences of disturbing the balance, and that she was my favorite person to rag on. Anyways, back to the story, ) and came to a deep, inspirational conclusion. I am three people. It's true ! (we make out like bandits on welfare!) No, my meaning is lost. (Good thing I bought it that GPS for Christmas) I am sometimes shy, sweet guy who just rolls with punches. This guy is likeable to others but my least favorite personally. Then I'm funny, off-the-wall guy. This guy does great with the ladies, drinks too much, and is notably my favorite overall. But there is a short-lived close second in this mix. Asshole guy. Asshole guy usually only lasts for an evening, sometimes just an hour or so. Maybe just the span of a joke. But he is delicious. He says things that funny, off-the-wall guy wouldn't dare say. And I think he's fucking hilarious ! So do other people, notably of the male persuasion. But asshole guy has to be used in small doses I have just learned. If I let him run rampant for too long, he trashes the place, loses the spare key, and passes out in the gardenias. But on that same token, he can never done away with completely. Asshole guy has an important role in my life. He keeps all the people I know, love, and tolerate on their toes never knowing if I'm going to be aiming some bile at their problems... or them. It's the difference between running a mile from the Grand Canyon(always funny guy), in the Grand Canyon (always asshole guy), or right beside it (a proper balance of the two). It's just more exciting. So my assholery will know no bounds, fortunately for you (and unfortunately for the people at Pembroke Nursing Home)! Nursing Homes ! That reminds me of that guy I almost hit with my car the time I handed out water pistols to the residents. Don't worry, he turned out to be very proficient at ducking and rolling to save himself. Even through dog poo ! In fact, he kinda' reminded me of that guy I almost hit at Chuck E. Cheese's... (sniff, good times...) When is vehicular assault not fun ? | | Thursday, July 10th, 2003 | | 4:57 pm |
All-Consuming Hatred is Fun !! (Especially with peanuts !)
Tell me if this sounds familiar... Bill: Hi, I guess I'll take your breakfast sandwich with the ham on it ? (imagine clueless expression on his face) Drive-Thru Guy: You mean the one of the sourdough biscuit ? Frank: Well, Sonic has this uh, uh, uh, Texas Toast... uh ? Drive-Thru: We have regular, sesame-seed bun, and sourdough... (probably whispers 'assholes' to himself) Bill and Frank in unison: Well, uh, uh, Sonic has this Texas Toast... uh... ? Pissed-Off Drive Thru Guy: This isn't Sonic, this is- Frank: Who's that guy with the ski-mask and- Bill: Is that a gun ?! (imagine the sounds of glass shattering with the chatter of submachine gun fire in the background, mixed with the screams of Bill and Frank) Frank: (slumped in Bill's lap) Bill... I love you... uh... Bill: Shut the fuck up, Frank... uh... (bleeds all over SUV interior) (Masked gunman then walks up to drive-thru and receives a free sourdough biscuit for performing a public service. Dancing lambs appear in a Roxette kick line.) Translation: Sonic needs to hire a new advertising executive. Preferably one who does not lack more than half of his sensory organs. | | 4:31 pm |
All True, Dude ! (Except for the part with words)
What Finding Nemo Character are You? brought to you by QuizillaGreat, a sea turtle ! I've been waiting for a sign for years that the sea turtles had forgiven me after I accidentally ran over a drove of their sea-bound babies trying to replicate a car commercial I saw. I love it when I get animals for my quiz scores. It's too bad that most of my experience with them involves screeching tires and high pitched screams of "Oh my Lord, where's the road ?!" True story (for once), upon returning from a late-night party in a nearby podunk town, I was flying down a back road in the country with my then-girlfriend Georgia*, to suddenly find a friendly deer in the road ! I swerved to the side to avoid the awestruck buck and it stayed perfectly still... until I got about five feet in front of it, whereas it leaped and nailed my backdoor on the driver's side, breaking the window. As we race away from the scene with all speed (I don't think I ever dipped below 60 the whole time, dodo me) Georgia asks breathlessly "Is it following us ?" Too bad I was too freaked (and tipsy) to come up with something properly humorous at this juncture. But we can all laugh about it now. Even the deer, who retired into an Assisted Living Neighborhood down the block and is now earning a government pension (I'm lying again). *Fill in my ex-girlfriend's real name here. Don't know it ? Look it up in the phonebook ! | | 8:42 am |
Meet Morally Ambiguous Street Urchin Barbie !
Occasionally, even super-geniuses like myself make mistakes. And even more occasionally (read: rarely) I like to make amends by offering my heartfelt apologies. I would like to apologize to all of the kids at the Northwoods Shopping Center waiting to sit on Santa's lap. Turns out Santa's little helpers AREN'T "minions of Satan sent to make sure that Santa never delivers what little boys and girls really want for Christmas" as I previously believed. I would also to like apologize to the woman in Isle 5 at the Big W this March. I now know that you're not an "insane clumsy bitch who has no life" as I informed you after your cart collided with my wheelchair. I regret standing up and stomping off in a huff as well. I regret my indifferent attitude back in the summer of 98' when I ran over that guy's foot in the Chuck E. Cheese's parking lot. I could've given you a fair shot at catching my plate number as I drove off, instead of unfairly throwing my Cherry Limeade into your face to distract you. I also would like to apologize to society on behalf of Nancy Snyder for her complete lack of dignity and self-respect for allowing me to drill her in the back seat of my Escort while her son had a routine dental cleaning. You are morally offensive to this entire country and especially to me. I would also like to add to my second-grade teacher Mrs. Renda: You can't keep me away from my son forever. That's the biological paternity dispute gist ! | | Wednesday, July 9th, 2003 | | 6:35 pm |
| | 7:33 am |
Ch-Chi-Chi-Chia: The Pottery That Blows !
Man, livejournal is acting hinky this morning. Anyways, androsbase.tripod.com is now up and running finally (after a grueling 48 hours). Right now it's just got big boobies and not-so-funny comments on it for the most part, but eventually I'll add the Blade of Jarkoth winzip and other not-so-important stuff. Warning: You WILL find the site offensive ! (Not nessecarily, but that is a good disclaimer to start out with). Unless you are a horny male whose wife DOESN'T monitor your Internet history daily, you will probably not appreciate the full extent of this website's beauty. Boobies. They're cool. I even touched one once... Shhh... Don't tell her I did. As of today, I have surrendered to my Dry Unmanageable Hair, effectively ending the War of the Conditioners. Like all good surrendering countries though, I will now wage a vicious guerilla war on the victor by severing small chunks of hair whenever night falls. We'll see who wins in the end ! | | Tuesday, July 8th, 2003 | | 5:04 pm |
The Blade of Jarkoth and Phu-Phu-Phu-Phu-Phyllis
Yay ! My homemade RPG, The Blade of Jarkoth, has won rave reviews from my three beta testers (well, 2 out of 3 ain't bad) ! Little surprise that my ex-girlfriend and close friend Georgia* did not approve of my "lifestyle offensive" material, but Alabama* and Texas* heartily approved of it ! As soon as the jammers at Tripod get their heads out of their asses so I can edit my page, I plan on putting a winzip file there of it for download. On a less enthusiastic note, Phyllis left me another e-mail today. For those of you who do not know of this ingrate, she was the one and only reader of a free website I had over a year ago and periodically sends me e-mails (at least one a month) asking when I'm going to update it. Never mind that I replied twice telling her it was shut down and the site itself has "No Longer Being Updated -- Ever" wrote across the home page. I spammed her, but of course my bulk mail folder still collects it along with numerous other assorted junk. I glanced over it, made sure it wasn't an apology for insulting my intelligence and wasting my time, then promptly deleted it. Some people are numbskulls. What's that Merv ? You and your octadog horde will crawl up her anus and suck out her soul ? Well, geez, if you don't have anything else going I guess that would be okay... I also received a message informing me that a certain somebody "own joo". I rapidly wrote back a note informing them that if they ever insulted my Jewish ethnicity again, I would SPAM their asses into the next millenium. They don't know me well enough to know I'm not Jewish, but that should be effective nonetheless. In other news, a family of yaks has moved into my living room and taken up residence. In exchange for sharing my abode they will shit all over my furniture, eat all of my food and possibly stomp me into the carpet. I agreed that this was a mutually beneficial arrangement and immediately baked them a bunt cake. They're fun to make with friends (or bewildered woodland animals) ! *Names have been changed to protect the ignorant and breasted. | | 5:41 am |
Paige, Slayer of Lawn Gnomes
Oh, Paige. How cruelly Rob ripped out your small petite heart and left it dangling by only the aorta. I can't say how sorry I am. Even more sorry than the apology I gave you three weeks ago in court. I still know as I stated then "that cupping a stranger's buttock is not a viable form of communication under the Constitution". I know you were just playing hard-to-get though. Now that your on the rebound from Rob, there has never been a more perfect time to lift the restraining order and allow me within 500 yards of you or your residence. Just some things to ponder over. In other news, I have accidentally killed the Last Mohican. As I have now been informed by a superior court judge "Gak is not a sufficient substitute for food and water". Sorry Mo', didn't know ! I guess that's the gastro-intestinal gist ! |
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