I am sofa king…

we todd ed.  Why is that still funny to me?  I'm stricken with self inflicted ADD, thats why.  Six cups of cafe, two rocktars and let the dyslexic typing commence.  Thank you Kiersten for reading and encouraging my blogging habit (sometimes I feel like Chappelle on Knee High Park…ohhhh the blogs kicking in kids).  It's safe to say that this post will follow no logical order and proceed in a stream of consciousness (or lack thereof) sort of way.  I went to Macys yesterday to buy some ties.  Why?  Because I'm a sellout.  Windsor knots and wingtips…did I just type that?  And why am I now corporate Dule?  An obligatory Fight Club reference should suffice,

Being clever (or artsy) doesn't pay too well.  In fact on the wage scale I got from my high school guidance counseler, being clever for a living ranked just above professional lottery ticket scratcher and just below clairvoyant.  So now I'm corporate and in Macys trying to buy ties.  Deciding to have a litte fun I ask the loudly dressed customer service rep if his store stocks flair.  Blank stare.  Well, do you have shite?  Blank stare.  In Dillards the shite was right next to the Booyah…just show me where the booyah is and I'll take it from there.  He starts to glance to and fro (looking for cameras, sure that Ashton Kutcher is about to pop up and tell him he is on the normal people edition of Punk'd).  I half expect his head to explode as I turn and point to the ties while saying alfani has some bold-looking booyah…and yes I am shopping at the mall where the six foot two and two hundred eighty pound Bad Santa wanna be Easter Bunny beat the hell out of a female shopper a little over a week ago.  I think the Smoking Gun now has pics and footage up of what will soon be a Fox-TV special, When Mall Mascots attack.  Meanwhile, somewhere in Hollywood…an out of work screenwriter has just banged out a rough treatment for Bad Santa 2: Bad Bunny…a straight to duh vuh duh rental written specifically as a starring vehicle for Johnny Knoxville.  I'd rent it and revel in its retchedness.  Alliteration and a lack of quotation marks run rampant throughout my writing…busy, busy…Why doesn't myspace allow us to choose Bokonist as our religion of choice?  Someone forward that query to Tom.  That's now eleven lizards my cat has caught in the last week.  Poor little defenseless guys.  Karma (possibly assuming the shape of a Monitor Lizard) is going to come back and bite you in the ass Mister Kitty, watch it buddy.  Has anyone had the thought that myspace is the cheapest, easiest way to digitally tattoo oneself?  You can blog, post pics, express all you want…and if you don't like the virtual tat you don't have to cover it up or get laser corrective surgery done…click, delete, start all over. 

                         sincerely,

                               Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Jackass.

@$#*#$&@^$(#&$…BIOS…*%^%*(^^&…Damn computer…&%^&*%%(%^&%$&^$&$&#$%@#()!&#@_*(!@^#()^@^$#@&#$^@)$^&*@#^$&*$^*(@#^$&#@$^)#^$#!+()*$&#)*…video card compatibility *(^@)^#@&^#$%$#@$*&#_*$!$_!$$&*_&#*%#^%!_&*)!^%#!)@%*(^#$(%&*^#(…and how the hell did my censored tirade become a clickable link?  Clickable my !@#.  Must…find…good…music…to…offset…BIOS…nightmares…Ambulance LTD…Broken Social Scene…Minus the Bear…ahhhhhhhhhhhh much better.  Night night blogees and blogettes.

How come famous quotes are only attributed to famous or anonymous people?  Are famous people more interesting and exciting?  Why isn't Raffi from 7-11 or my bank teller Hong found in the many anthologies of all things quotable?  By the by, my boy Raffi has some serious quotation game…who are the five most quotable 7-11 employees in the world…Raffi…Raffi…Raffi, Raffi and Raffi…cause he spits hot fire.  I don't know if this is a brainstorm or a brain hiccup…I'm thinking about documenting the greatest quotes of my friends, family, people I only know through their profiles on myspace and random 7-11 employees…if any of the three people who inadvertantly clicked on this blog post has a quotation to offer…please send them to me or leave them as a comment on this blog….I'll start it off…here are a few uber unintelligent quotes I came up with:

Love is pain, wrapped in glass.

Dream, have a near life experience.

Time travel is more than possible.  Look at all the people that either live in the future or the past.

Questions with answers lead to more questions…(I had to steal this one from Dilated People)

A dream deferred deadens desire.   

Going against my word and wisdom…I have broken down and gone to the dark side…I have joined myspace.  Chalk it up to a yearning to be one of the seventy million users (safety in numbers and all that jazz), peer pressure from the digitally inclined crowd or a way to connect to my friends from back home; whatever the rationalization and minimization…I have turned into Darth Dul (might just be following the lead of the South Park guys).  So, I'm feeling a bit melancholy about it all…so, I'd like to take a moment, bow my head and mourn the passing of the me that existed pre myspace…moment over.  My initial observations are that it's not as bad as I believed it to be.  Yes, scorned lovers post pics of their exes online and yes people bicker about all sorts of nonsense…and yes random girls send you their profiles under the subject: am I HOT! or r u hot…don't think I'll get used to the creative spelling employed by the myspacers.  Myspace is, in effect, the cheaper, less scarring way for individuals to tattoo themselves and espouse their individuality…you don't need a laser to burn off the pics and ambiguous statements posted on your particular site.  Anyhoo, must run…work, it beckons…

A date with your significant other?  Catching a ballgame?  Movies and popcorn?  Or perhaps the Dave Chappelle impersonation of Sean Combs/P. Diddy/Puff Daddy/Just call me Diddy approach,

 "If I had my way, I'd never work. I'd just stay home all day, watch Scarface 50 times, eat a turkey sandwich, and have sex all fucking day. Then I'd dress up like a clown, and surprise kids at schools. Then I'd take a dump in the back of a movie theater, and just wait until somebody sat in it. Hear it squish. That's funny to me. Then I'd paint, and read, and play violin. I'd climb the mountains, and sing the songs that I like to sing. But I don't got that kinda time."

Fight Club (the book and movie) is responsible for more memorable quotes than any movie I can think of in recent memory.  In Palahniuk we trust,

"I've met God across his long walnut desk with his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, and God asks me, "Why?"  Why did I cause so much pain?  Didn't I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness?  Can't I see how we're all manifestations of love?  I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God's got this all wrong.  We are not special.  We are not crap or trash, either.  We just are.  We just are, and what happens just happens.  And God says, "No, that's not right."  Yeah.  Well.  Whatever.  You can't teach God anything."  ~Chapter 30

And spraying fake and bake on Nick Nolte does not make him Native American.  Just saw the movie tralier for "Peaceful Warrior" based on the great book "Way of the Peaceful Warrior" (oh Hollywood, they will abbreviate everything).  Seeing Nick Nolte, in essence, wear black face is a bit, um, well…scary.  I've seen Mr. Nolte in a plethora of movies (would you say I have a plethora, Jefe) as well as in countless mug shots…the man can play: white, drunk, angry, cracked out (or its more gussied up terms disheveled, unkempt and unruly)…if he can pull off playing a wizened peaceful warrior of ethnicity then give him an Oscar…

I just linked this blog to one which I think provides a great service.  If you scroll down to the My Links Category you'll find a link for Those Needing Help With Substance Abuse.  Addiction is a horrid affliction that millions upon millions suffer with.  If you know anyone who is struggling with such things then this site is for you.  It has a comprehensive database of over 13,000 rehabs in the U.S., it has facts and resources for all things drug related…I hope that it helps…for those that don't want to scroll down the address is www.realworldrehab.wordpress.com. 

This post does not come with bouncing boobs or magic refrigerators full of Budweiser (though maybe it should).  That being said this is an important post.  This post will make you live a longer, happier life (hyperbole is my speciality), consider it the zoloft of blog entries.  Seriously, if you’d like to check out a fun site that has a little bit of everything, scroll down to my blogroll and click on farlane.blog or if you are into the whole typing thing it’s www.farlane.wordpress.com.  It’ll change your life, promise, you’ll win the lottery…tomorrow…sexy women from South Beach will throw themselves at you…Diddy will soon bust down your front door with a recording contract in one hand and a bottle of Cambodian breast milk in the other…enjoy. 

Technically, I graduated college over one year ago, however, today is the first day that I officially feel like a grad.  My diploma is finally here…Sweet!  I feel smarter, smugger, more pretentious, full of pomp and circumstance, wryer, wittier (in a high brow high falootin’ way) and dead sexy.  Thank you, oh magical diploma…if I would of listened to Kanye West I’d be sans degree yet full of depression…excuse me while I pat myself on the back…okay, enough of that nonsense.  Recently I’ve been getting more and more traffic on this little site.  I want to thank each and everyone who has stopped by, I appreciate it.  I am fielding any and all suggestions for writing content and requests…so, feel free to contact me and let me know how to improve this blog.