You know, it's been a weird few months. A lot of ups and downs. But, I've always been the optimistic type, and I continually manage to pull through the darkness fairly easily, into the light. Where most people give power to the darkness, I fight it head on.
Take today for instance. Today marks the 14th year that one of my two best friends (both oddly named Josh...maybe I'm just lazy and didn't want to learn a new name?), passed away in a car crash. It's very easy to look back at the good times, and then let the waves of negative thoughts wash over you with regret, remorse, and loneliness. But, not this fucker. Nope. I fight for happiness every step of the way. I find a happy thought, like Peter-Fucking-Pan, and I hang onto it until I can fly.
Sometimes I need a little help. This is where I throw in the hydraulics. Last night, it was George Carlin. That man can leave me in stitches every time. The night before, it was Don Rickles. He's the original gangster of comedy in my opinion. But, lately, any time I need a true chuckle. I mean, one of those deep down in the cockles of your heart laughs, I turn to the Comedian Luke Francis he has this bit he does about Church's Chicken that he delivers with just a raw honesty that cracks me up to no end.
Needless to say, stand up comedians are always a good source of levity for me.
I can listen to Joe Rogan's CD over and over and never grow tired of it. But, there's something about European comics and their perspectives on life that just have me falling out of my seat laughing. It really helps to find "your comedian type". I know a lot of people that don't watch stand-up. Mostly, I attribute these types as dull and humorless. For an hour or more, you have your own personal Court Jester that you can see life through new eyes. Laugh at similar scenarios, and just generally escape your mundane routine, in exchange for a journey down Funny Lane.
Well, other than just writing down my thoughts today, there's really nothing more to say. Go out to a comedy club, find someone that says something that tickles your funny bone, and make that person your go-to for a little piece of happiness when you need it most.
Jokingly yours,
Knuckles
P.S. Vote for The Stallion here for me. It'd make my soul happy:
....see what I did there?....<~~ It's a "Release the Kraken!!" joke....ahhhhh..fuck you, it's funny....
Here's something I haven't touched on in awhile, but really pulls my ball hair.
Self Proclaimed Geniuses/Bitches/Trendsetters/Party Animals....also known as...complete fucking idiots.
Let me start with the one that annoys me beyond all measure. The "Bitch".
"I can go from Zero to Bitch in 1 second flat!" "If being a bitch is what it takes for me to make my point clear, then I guess that's what I'll have to be." and, so on...you all know the person I'm talking about. The female (and sometimes queeny gay guy) that thinks she's being assertive, and aggressive, and Alpha, when all she is proving is her inability to articulate herself well enough to get her pro-idiot point across. "I get called a bitch a lot, but that just shows I stand up for myself." No, it fucking doesn't, it shows you are of inferior intellect and you think that yelling and being condescending will make you feel superior to the person you're locking horns with. When in all actuality, you feel threatened by said person, or else you wouldn't have to act in such a disgusting manner.
Look, no one likes to be made to look a fool. No one, but being a raging cunt only separates you further from the intellectual point you're trying to make to begin with. If you feel that you're a "bad ass", then you're not only mistaken, but also immature in your thought process. Because, life isn't about who can "out-bitch" the person next to you. It's about right and wrong. It's about moral and immoral. It's about being a fucking idiot, and being fucking smart.
Which, brings me to Fucktard Classification #2:
The Self Proclaimed Genius (also known as, someone being "Google Smart")
I will start with a quote from Neil deGrasse Tyson: "With automatic spell checkers running unleashed over what we compose, our era is that of correctly spelled typos."
Yet, you get this onslaught of people that constantly post something to their facebook or twitter accounts that is witty or whimsical that someone else thought up. Whether it's text on an image that says "Fuck This Monday! I'm Ready For Friday!" or a quote by some author or philosopher that they'd never heard of until they'd seen it on someone that they deem "Their Smart Friend"'s wall, and stole it for their own, these people run amok among us. Now, here's where these basement dwellers become scary; They are also the kind of fool that gives out medical advice to people that they drummed up from multitudes of sites they've perused over the internet.
Say, for shits-n-tickles that you have a headache. But, this is no NORMAL headache, it's the headache that puckered your asshole into your lungs. So, you text Fucktardio and ask "You ever had a headache that puckered your asshole into your lungs?" Well, Fucktardio, being the person that he is wants to impress with his superior intellect and begins zipping from site to site with his keywords. "Headache" "Extreme" "Fucking Awful" "Pucker"....what-the-fuck-ever..."Yeah bro, you've got a tumor. You see, my great uncle's aunt was a doctor on my Mom's side, and I was bestowed with all her wisdom. So, trust me, I'm not wrong on this." and then Fucktardio has planted the seed of stupidity into your inferior brain. The problem with the internet is this: There's a difference between fact, information, and news. Any cock-knot can post on a message board, and say he's a Board Certified Physician. (spell check helped him spell all those words, otherwise it would have come out Bored Country Fried Fission) So, you, being Fucktardio, go to this message board and see that this cunt bubble has posted some information for another person that has a similar problem to what you're searching for. You take this as gospel, and go forth with your newfound information, and pollute the world with it. When, all the while, if you would have just said "No fucking clue dude. Go see a doctor like a big boy should." everything would have been fine. After all, your 2 minute Google search is OBVIOUSLY just as reassuring as 12 years of Medical Training.
But, the assholery doesn't stop there. Oh no!! These are the people that ramble adamantly in your face about the most ignorant of shit. Or, if you bring up a topic of discussion, of something...let's say...that they just watched a special on Discovery about, then you have to listen to them correct you, and or "school you" on whatever it is that makes them feel superior. But, as soon as their 1 hours worth of knowledge (including their 15 seconds of knowledge on the new Tide with Bleach...because, let's face it, their knowledge came with commercials) is over, then you get the "guessing" of what it is, and they will fight and argue their point, whether it be true, or not, because they refuse to lose face in such a topic that they just OWNED in their mind. They will bark, embellish, talk over, make fun of your new shirt, or whatever they need to do, just to detract from their lack of information.
Speaking of new shirts...I want to give a massive FUCK YOU!!!! to Ed Hardy and his disgusting and atrocious clothing, and a big THANK YOU!!! to time for slowly making it uncool to wear it.
Trendy-Ass-Posers!!!
By definition, a Poser is: "One who attempts to appear to others as something they are not, especially by their manner of dress; a charlatan". We have in L.A. a time of year we call "Poser Season"....okay, I say "We.", but I mean "Me." It's basically that time of year that Pilot's are being shot. There's a massive influx of 17 to 25 year olds that are looking to be famous, fit in, and be the coolest kid in Hollywood. When, in all actuality, they're just in a pissing contest with one another. Crocs, Ed Hardy, Von Dutch, Juicy Couture, and whatever name brand you can throw at them. They spend more money on trying to be cool, than they do trying to succeed. "I'm wearing sarongs now. Yeah, it's the new thing." Is it reallllllly asshole? Why is it the new thing? Because we're so dumbed down as a society now that we need to look to other cultures to bite off their traditional dress to make a statement?
But, it doesn't stop with clothes. It's their coffee. Their hair products. Their music. It's always so obscure that you just want to punch them. Look, I admit that some things are "better" if they're purchased off the map. But, I don't shove it down everyone's throat I see so that they know I am a "trendsetter".
Here's a laugher. So, I was in Denver a few years back, and my best friend took me to a bar that his wife was dancing at (not that kind of dancing, it was a belly dancing thing, for fuck's sake people, i do have friends with some class after all), and everyone in this joint had those nasty white people dreadlocks and it smelled of patchouli. This broad (waitress) comes over to the table and hands me a one page paper menu and it PROUDLY proclaims at the top that this is an ORGANIC bar. Cool....no problem...
I order a vodka martini when the most annoying and troubling thing comes out of this chicks mouth: "Well, just so you know, our vodka is organic. And, we don't accept credit cards, only checks."
Okay, stooge, you're telling me, rather than me having a piece of plastic that I hold onto for AT LEAST 4 years at a time, cut up at the end, and put in the recycle bin...is somehow WORSE than cutting down thousands, and millions of trees, to make into little pieces of paper that will just get thrown away? Am I missing something here? The lengths that people will go to, just to seem "More organic"...or, in my eyes "cooler and more passionate about life" than the next person, simply amazes me.
And, after all that, I bring myself to my final fuckhole:
The Self Proclaimed Party Animal
This is the person that (male or female) will fit into one of two categories: 1) They know all the cool bars. They know every trendy hotspot for clubs (of which makes them bleed over into the previous category), where the neatest after hours places are, and where everyone is meeting for breakfast. Usually this person has a RotoDial of Skanks and Posers that they can call at any moment and will be at their side. They pretend (or possibly do) know every doorman and bartender, and will consistently let you know so. They throw money around "Even though I don't have to. They know me so well here, I could get comped all night if I wanted.", and do their best to be 'seen'. Or: 2) The person that once had a fairly social life, that hasn't for years, but still proclaims shit like "LET'S TEAR THIS CITY DOWN!!!" when you go out to happy hour. Or "BRO!! I'm going to drink you under the table!!", when you haven't been out with this person in months. Look, dick hole, I'm sorry you had 5 kids, and have a mortgage now, but that doesn't mean you need to try and recapture your youth by excreting pure idiocy from your pores every time we walk through the doors of a bar. You screaming at me and saying "YOU READY FOR SHOTS?!?!?!" does not make a space/time wormhole magically appear around us and scoot us back to a dorm room in college. It looks sad, and desperate and you need to just learn to be secure with your position. And, for the record....No......you fucking can't......[in reference to drinking me under the table: I am a professional drinker, and I should never be challenged, or I shall be forced to expose my true super power]
All-in-all, there's just a multitude of moron in this world lately. I attribute it to this....and, you're going to need to follow me here, it's going to get tricky:
Say, you have an A level student. Pure genius. Knows the subject matter backwards and forwards and is well versed on the whole topic.
This person teaches a class, and a student that also wants to be a teacher/professor (just assume everyone wants to teach after this point), and passes the class with a C.
Okay, so you have a C level student that graduates, and is now teaching students. This teacher teaches a class, and the next kid makes a C in his class. So, what is a C in this class, would have undoubtedly been an F in the first person's class. Yet, he passes, and HE becomes a teacher. Then, you have an ongoing trickle down effect or morons. When, inevitably, you have a knuckle dragging cave dweller teaching a class that he shouldn't even be allowed to collect the garbage for. And, here lies the conundrum...how do we recapture the intellect we once had? Is it a lack of passion? Or just laziness? Is it a lack of knowledge that we're all becoming inferior humans? Or, is it just that we know, but don't give a fuck?
Regardless of what it is, I think that we need to have more people creating quotable quotes, and less people reposting someone elses intelligent quips. We need less people biting off someone elses flavor, and more innovators. We just need to wise up, and start being better humans again.
When we start having a generation of kids that act like drug addicts, without actually taking the drugs, then we have a problem. I don't want to grow old with some kid that watched Jersey Shore all the way through college as President.
We already elected one retard. Isn't that enough?
Anyhow, go read a book, or take a class, or just open your mind to the fact that you're more than the clothes you wear, the labels that surround you, and the quotes your rip off. You're a unique human. One squiggly spooge that made it to an egg. So, stand up, have some pride, and don't ACT smarter...MAKE yourself smarter.
And, please, put down the fucking phone when I ask you a question you don't know...I know you have google on quick launch. Idiot.
Now, I'm going to update from here, so I don't have to tell the story a million times.
It all started at 12noon yesterday, 13 June, 2012.
I hadn't eaten breakfast, but saw that (for her birthday) my Mom had fried some ham. (similar to that of Thanksgiving) I took a tiny bite, swallowed, and all hell ensued. I started heaving, and wretching, and slobbering everywhere. I tried "waiting" for it to go down...nothing...until after my Mom's birthday cake's candles were blown out, and this is where I decided to go to the Emergency Room.
I wait in the Emergency Room for 6 fucking hours. This is with constant visits to nurses, doctors, and the suck asking "WHAT THE FUCK?!?!"
Fastforward to the first room. They give me a shot to make me puke. But, this makes no sense to me, being that if you take a volleyball, and stick it in a water hose, and then turn on the hose....well, you've seen Bugs Bunny cartoons.
Anyhow, I sit there for 3 more hours. With off and on wretching fits from the stupid shot, until my toes were curling. This is when they decided "Thing's are fucked."
They admit me, and take me to a room. Where I manage to befriend every hot nurse between here and there. (pictures to follow)
I answer EVERY question they give me as comedically as possible. "Do you drink alcohol?" "It's according to what you've got?" "Are you allergic to latex?" "Why? What've you heard?" "Does this problem occur often?" "No way, I was an actor for many years, I've had much bigger meat in my throat than this."...and they rolled on...
Eventually, I was rolled down to the OR, where I befriended some "Nurses in Training" that I had in stitches as well, of which, later would run for their lives....this is where things go a little "awry".
You see, as with any Writer, Poet, Actor, or Artist, there is always that proverbial "Hiding behind the tears of a clown.", but the problem is, mine isn't tears.....you know what, I'll explain what happened, rather than explain the inner demon itself.
So, I have everyone laughing...and "Yes ma'am." "No sir."-ing everyone...but then, they gave me a strong drug, that ALSO gives you amnesia. I liken this to What Bruce Banner has to deal with, because....
When I woke up the FIRST time (i have an ENORMOUS tolerance to all things foreign, drugs, booze, what-have-you), and every surgery I've ever had, I've always awaken halfway through.
Well, let's just say it's never pleasant when I do. By firsthand accounts from multiple sources, I begin to wake up and start pulling cables and hoses out and raise up and point, like the Crypt Keeper from a casket, at the Drug Dude and say "Youuuuuu!!!" "You're the bastard that took my manhood!!" And, begin to lurch forward, (this is where, luckily, my mother had been handy) "Youuuuuu motherfucker!! You took my MANHOOD!!!" and the guy starts backing up asking "Me? What did I do again?" and looks to my Mom, and she asks "What are you talking about "Your manhood?" and I open my mouth and point inside it. Where she realizes immediately what I was talking about. [You see, about 20 years ago, I had a similar incident that wasn't as drastic, where the surgeon had torn off half my fucking uvula during the surgery, leaving me with...all I can describe it as, Sloth's head from Goonies in the back of my throat]...I keep creeping forward until someone says: "GIVE HIM SOMETHING TO KNOCK HIM OUT BEFORE HE GETS UP!!", where they do, and I fall back to the bed. This is where the gentleman looks to my Mom and says "I'm not sure what I did, but I'm quite positive that if he would have got out of that bed, he is large enough, that he probably would have hurt me pretty bad. I've decided, when he wakes up, I want him to be my BFF!!" and goes back to work.
Hours later, the begin to wake me up...my "HULK SMASH!!" moment far behind us...but, there's an all new problem. You see, I look over, and the guy injecting the "wake up juice" into the needle is none other than Luke Francis (i don't fucking know why). I start jarring around, and say "Luke!! Get the fuck away from that!!" ".....Who the fuck is Luke man?....."Stop fucking with me!! GET YOUR HANDS OFF THAT SHIT!!! This isn't funny, it's DANGEROUS!! I'm not gonna be fodder for one of your bits!" And, this is where the guy quickly goes over and finishes injecting the serum into the little hole, and I went from staring Luke Francis directly in the face, to staring the Drug Dude directly in the face, where I calmly say "So....I didn't talk out my ass too much when I was under did I?" and lie back down.
But, apparently during ALL of my shenanigans, I still managed to flirt with every female nurse (except one that i seemingly called a troll, and asked for her to go get someone 'prettier' to do her job)....what an asshole.
The rest...well, the drugs have worn off, and the doctor tells me a couple of nice stories. One consisting of "Yeah, there was a baseballs worth of food lodged in your esophagus. It was like a spiderwed of a mess down there. And, that it had accumulated over days, not just immediately. It seems that I'm LITERALLY allergic to abrasive foods, and they enflame my esophagus, causing food to get lodged. Letting the occasional morsel slip by, but, just waiting for that cunning keystone that will fuck up my world.
Doc said "You know, if that would have ruptured, giving it another hour or two, you would have probably died within the hour from being so septic."
Sooo....close call for Knuckles.
Now, I'm lying in bed, with my sternum feeling like someone bashed it numerous times with a sledge hammer, and my throat feeling like someone attached a Brillo pad to a broom handle and shoved it down my throat, and started churning butter.
The sad part is, after paying for a shitload of things, I am absolutely broke, and I know I don't ask for money, but I would HAPPILY accept some donations, to help me pay for my medications. (that are quite expensive)
