To kids, it's a summer vacation. To a new employee, it's when your benefits kick in. To a criminal, it's usually the lowest sentence. To many, it's just 3 months.
To me, it's a milestone towards success.
For years I fought tooth and nail for this success. I would nail a week down here or there. Sometimes longer, a lot of times shorter. But, always wanted it.
In rehab, I would attend my early morning meetings, and always here them ask "Any people that this is their first meeting? Anyone with 1 month? 2 months? 3 months? 6 months? 1 year?...." and, I always admired the people at 3 months. It was a corner they had turned a corner. The first couple of months seemed like something anyone could do. If it was for a job, or a spouse, or if you were doing it for someone else. But, the people at 3 months seemed to be the ones that wanted for themselves.
90 days isn't long to most people. It's 3 months rent. It's 1/3rd of a pregnancy. It's just not a large number to many. To me, it's a world of opportunity, wrapped in an achievement, and smothered in smiles. It's a desire to be a better human. It's a drive that fuels my forward momentum. It means that I can do this.
We all desire success in some facet. Whether it be in love, money, career, or whatever your heart desires. But, that's just it isn't it? What your heart desires. YOUR heart. Not those around you. Not the many droves of people that give opinions, judgments or blank stares. It's what feels right to you.
A bumpy road is what kept me scared. Kept me weak. I have always been a strong person. Charismatic, calm, open minded, passionate, articulate with my thoughts and feelings. Yet, the chaos that surrounded me, made me want to hide. Those bumps in my road were a variation of deep potholes, or large rocks. So, I tried to hide from them. I lacked the tools to remove the chaos from within, so that I could approach the chaos from without head on.
But, some how, some way, I made it to this 90th Day. I won't win an award. I will be given a chip to remind me of my journey, but the only recognition I truly need, is that of my own. I am proud of myself. I am driven in the right direction and the wind is once again in my sails. No, things aren't easy, but the lulls in the storm come more frequently now. I surround myself with loving people that support me. They know I have demons, but they see my struggles, and they give me the care and attention I need. I take care of myself more. I look inward for help, before I search for it in the world. And, more often than not, I find the answers that dwell inside this coconut of mine to be solid.
This is just the beginning, but it's one helluva start for a man that sat in those early morning meetings, and wondered if I had it inside me to make it that far. To be that strong. To be the man I knew I wanted to be, but questioned his resolve. It turns out, I am all of that and more. It's motivation to move forward. It's encouragement to be even more than I originally thought I could be.
90 days...
Feels pretty fucking good everyone.
- Johnny
Showing posts with label personality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personality. Show all posts
Monday, August 18, 2014
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
A Fistful of Monsters in my Closet...
"Concentrate long enough on a focal point of negativity, and it will consume you wholly." ~ Knuckles
I submit to you, my version of self help for the weak minded fuckwit.
Well, I guess you can be one or the other, or both, and still need this advice, but it will definitely shine some light on all the above.
Negativity is a monster. I mean a real bad, PMS'ing, fire spewing, cunt of a monster. It causes hate. It causes depression. It causes anger, and resentment, and fear, and a whole slew of other shit. Negativity also causes us to see shit with a slanted view. Now, I for one admit to submitting to this demon from time to time. It's a constant uphill battle to fight off this raging whoremonster, but I do a damn good job. But, what I've also learned is that it's harder to UNDO the effects of Negativity than it is to prevent it.
Imagine this:
You're a child. Maybe, 5 or 6 years old. You've got loving parents that buy you nice clothes, fun toys, and have given you a comfortable life. In your bedroom you have your walls painted to your idea of fun specifications, your toys are where you like to keep them, and your clothes are hung neatly in your closet.
One night, you go to bed, and you leave your closet door slightly open, and (unbeknownst to you, there's a sweater sleeve hanging out on the doorknob, a la Monster's Inc) you are in your bed, with the lights out before you notice this. Something goes *bump* in your closet and #POOF!# your sanctuary has all of a sudden become your tomb. You stare into this void...you stare...and stare...and try to make out what it was that made that noise, and you eventually see the sleeve slide off the handle and "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!! IT'S A GOT-DAMNED MONSTER!!!" *BANG!* under your sheets you go to hide, where you are nearly pissing your pants, and you do your best to stay awake until the sun comes up.
Now, as a child, you'll eventually fall asleep, and awaken and wearily open your closet door to find nothing there. But, now the bug has been planted. "There's something in there!" Now your room doesn't feel so bright and happy. You don't see it as Disneyland anymore. More like a torture chamber of doom that some horrible beast is going to jump out and chew off your little cocktail shrimp sized weenie. (I'm a boy, we think of weird shit like that)
=
Now, this is where I like to relay my 90%-10% view on life. You see, that closet consumed that kid...one little fucking thing...consumed his thoughts, his day, his life...and, after checking to see if there was something there, and finding nothing, all he had to do was reassure himself nothing was there, and move on. But, something that was 10% of his day, became 100% thereafter.
Here's where we do this with adults. Say for instance you hear at Church that it's wrong to be gay. You'd never heard that, but you hear it from your Pastor/Preacher/Priest. You go home, and type into Google: Being Gay is Wrong...and KABOOM!!...a million things pop up and you start reading it. You read it into the night, and go to bed thinking about it. Now, you've piqued your interest, and you go back to some of those pages you visited the previous night, at work the next day. The more you read things from "People that know this for a fact" (self proclaimed), the more you feel like YOU know it as fact as well. Now, you start asking around, and find similar minded people to talk about it with. The next thing you know...you're at ant-homosexual rallies spouting bigoted verbality at anyone that will listen.
You had a perfectly happy life. Full of love, happiness, and kindness...and the Negativity consumed you to the point that you forgot about the 90%, and started focusing on the monster in the closet.
=
I see the same thing happen with my friends that are unemployed, or just out of a loving relationship that suddenly failed, or their life just isn't going the way they want. But, they have a friend like me to turn to...a good friend...that's 10% on it's own. They normally have family, that's 10%. A roof over your head -> 10%....and the numbers keep adding up. But, it's that Negative 10% that keeps their attention. I've written blogs before about how these fucked up partners in relationships find a man or woman that is 90% of what they wanted, but they fart in their sleep, or watch Jersey Shore, or some other knuckle dragging nonsense...and, that 10% encompasses them to the point that they start looking for someone that has the 10% that the person that they're with is missing, and eventually leave 90% for the 10% person, and finish unhappy and realize they fucked up when it's too late.
Look cock-knot, we all have a miserable beast in our closet. The best thing to do, is to nut up, and get your weak minded ass out of bed and kick the fucking door shut with authority, and choose happiness/positivity. Because if you walk through life looking into the closet, you're never going to play with your toys, paint your room, hug your parents, or crank on your noodle the same way again. You're constantly going to be looking over your shoulder at that crack in the door and peering inside to see that lack of a job, or that broken heart, or that exploded fuck doll. (or whatever else saddens you)
I know, I know...it's harder than it sounds...but, Tomorrow's big brother is Today, and what Today says...Tomorrow will listen to.
So, do me a favor, and stop hating others. Stop dragging yourself through the mud. Stop focusing on shit that really has nothing that directly effects your day-to-day reality. Other people have their own demons to fight, without you being another one. Because, when you hate, or your down, or when you are just a fuckhole altogether...you sprout horns, grow a tail, and become one of those raging hatemongers, and who wants that to be their legacy?
Kick that door shut. Live in the light. Embrace love. Duct tape that hole in your fuck doll and get back to plowing it, because Tomorrow just told me that Today said "I may not be at the party tomorrow, so toss one back for me!"
I love you all. You inspire me to write. You give my mind a constant workout. And, some of you give me a reason to rub one out. So, to all of you, thank you...you make my heart love more, my brain more intelligent and my....well....we'll leave it at that.
Monsterously yours,
Knuckles
I submit to you, my version of self help for the weak minded fuckwit.
Well, I guess you can be one or the other, or both, and still need this advice, but it will definitely shine some light on all the above.
Negativity is a monster. I mean a real bad, PMS'ing, fire spewing, cunt of a monster. It causes hate. It causes depression. It causes anger, and resentment, and fear, and a whole slew of other shit. Negativity also causes us to see shit with a slanted view. Now, I for one admit to submitting to this demon from time to time. It's a constant uphill battle to fight off this raging whoremonster, but I do a damn good job. But, what I've also learned is that it's harder to UNDO the effects of Negativity than it is to prevent it.
Imagine this:
You're a child. Maybe, 5 or 6 years old. You've got loving parents that buy you nice clothes, fun toys, and have given you a comfortable life. In your bedroom you have your walls painted to your idea of fun specifications, your toys are where you like to keep them, and your clothes are hung neatly in your closet.
One night, you go to bed, and you leave your closet door slightly open, and (unbeknownst to you, there's a sweater sleeve hanging out on the doorknob, a la Monster's Inc) you are in your bed, with the lights out before you notice this. Something goes *bump* in your closet and #POOF!# your sanctuary has all of a sudden become your tomb. You stare into this void...you stare...and stare...and try to make out what it was that made that noise, and you eventually see the sleeve slide off the handle and "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!! IT'S A GOT-DAMNED MONSTER!!!" *BANG!* under your sheets you go to hide, where you are nearly pissing your pants, and you do your best to stay awake until the sun comes up.
Now, as a child, you'll eventually fall asleep, and awaken and wearily open your closet door to find nothing there. But, now the bug has been planted. "There's something in there!" Now your room doesn't feel so bright and happy. You don't see it as Disneyland anymore. More like a torture chamber of doom that some horrible beast is going to jump out and chew off your little cocktail shrimp sized weenie. (I'm a boy, we think of weird shit like that)
=
Now, this is where I like to relay my 90%-10% view on life. You see, that closet consumed that kid...one little fucking thing...consumed his thoughts, his day, his life...and, after checking to see if there was something there, and finding nothing, all he had to do was reassure himself nothing was there, and move on. But, something that was 10% of his day, became 100% thereafter.
Here's where we do this with adults. Say for instance you hear at Church that it's wrong to be gay. You'd never heard that, but you hear it from your Pastor/Preacher/Priest. You go home, and type into Google: Being Gay is Wrong...and KABOOM!!...a million things pop up and you start reading it. You read it into the night, and go to bed thinking about it. Now, you've piqued your interest, and you go back to some of those pages you visited the previous night, at work the next day. The more you read things from "People that know this for a fact" (self proclaimed), the more you feel like YOU know it as fact as well. Now, you start asking around, and find similar minded people to talk about it with. The next thing you know...you're at ant-homosexual rallies spouting bigoted verbality at anyone that will listen.
You had a perfectly happy life. Full of love, happiness, and kindness...and the Negativity consumed you to the point that you forgot about the 90%, and started focusing on the monster in the closet.
=
I see the same thing happen with my friends that are unemployed, or just out of a loving relationship that suddenly failed, or their life just isn't going the way they want. But, they have a friend like me to turn to...a good friend...that's 10% on it's own. They normally have family, that's 10%. A roof over your head -> 10%....and the numbers keep adding up. But, it's that Negative 10% that keeps their attention. I've written blogs before about how these fucked up partners in relationships find a man or woman that is 90% of what they wanted, but they fart in their sleep, or watch Jersey Shore, or some other knuckle dragging nonsense...and, that 10% encompasses them to the point that they start looking for someone that has the 10% that the person that they're with is missing, and eventually leave 90% for the 10% person, and finish unhappy and realize they fucked up when it's too late.
Look cock-knot, we all have a miserable beast in our closet. The best thing to do, is to nut up, and get your weak minded ass out of bed and kick the fucking door shut with authority, and choose happiness/positivity. Because if you walk through life looking into the closet, you're never going to play with your toys, paint your room, hug your parents, or crank on your noodle the same way again. You're constantly going to be looking over your shoulder at that crack in the door and peering inside to see that lack of a job, or that broken heart, or that exploded fuck doll. (or whatever else saddens you)
I know, I know...it's harder than it sounds...but, Tomorrow's big brother is Today, and what Today says...Tomorrow will listen to.
So, do me a favor, and stop hating others. Stop dragging yourself through the mud. Stop focusing on shit that really has nothing that directly effects your day-to-day reality. Other people have their own demons to fight, without you being another one. Because, when you hate, or your down, or when you are just a fuckhole altogether...you sprout horns, grow a tail, and become one of those raging hatemongers, and who wants that to be their legacy?
Kick that door shut. Live in the light. Embrace love. Duct tape that hole in your fuck doll and get back to plowing it, because Tomorrow just told me that Today said "I may not be at the party tomorrow, so toss one back for me!"
I love you all. You inspire me to write. You give my mind a constant workout. And, some of you give me a reason to rub one out. So, to all of you, thank you...you make my heart love more, my brain more intelligent and my....well....we'll leave it at that.
Monsterously yours,
Monday, July 2, 2012
There's No Other Place That I'd Rather Be...
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
RELEASE THE KRAKHEAD!!!!
....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.
Moronically yours,
Knuckles
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.
Moronically yours,
Knuckles
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Defining That, of Which We Call Knuckles....
As previously stated, I like to be big. Not "big" in the sense of, say, needing to buy an extra seat on a United Flight, but "big" in the sense of personality, life, and actions.
Here's the reasoning behind my madness;
In my youth, I kept my head down, walked softly, and made little waves. I was bullied, talked down to, and generally just pushed around by life. I watched movies with guys that stood up for themselves, and others, and envied them, as well as admired them. They were the Superheroes of the real world. Men like John McClane of Die Hard. He was an average guy, that under pressure, became a super human. He couldn't fly. He couldn't turn invisible, but he had something inside him that made him want to save his wife, and other innocent people, because they needed it.
These "other" people are average, non-heroic, Keep Your Head Down people. They were me. I was the one being rescued, but that's not what I wanted to be. I wanted to be the guy saying "Yippee Ki Yay Motherfucker!"
So, I looked deep down inside myself, and I pulled up the whimpering, weak, timid heart that I had, and shook the living fuck out of it....
On a sidenote, it helps that I'm an Atheist at times. You see, a lot of people believe that this is just our earthbound self. They believe in eternity, and going to Heaven, and an afterlife. I don't. So, I believe this is our one shot at being the best ME that I can be. Which, helped in the creation of what you see (read) in front of you.
Back to my Boring Ass Story...
I shook the living FUCK out of myself, and said "Time to nut up, or Shut up!", and started doing little things day in, and day out, that were not typically things I would do. Standing up to people started off as a little mumble under my breath, that usually followed by a "What?" from the other person. But, in true John McClane fashion, the mumbles eventually became words, the words became sentences, and the nerves became steadied. Resulting in a defiant, strong, and stable conversation.
After learning that I could create an individual that I thought was exactly what I wanted. I no longer looked to movies for inspiration, but in turn, started looking inward. I wanted to create, in my mind, the best Johnny that I could. My own personal super human.
I had always thought intellect was a profound thing, and so I studied. I studied things that "I" wanted to study. Not for school. Not for classes. For me. Things that I wanted to know. Things that I wanted to be educated on, so that if and and when it ever came up in conversation, I'd be well versed on the subject. I'd sit in the library for hours, just reading books on the biological makeup of humans, Genghis Khan, British Parliament, Shakespeare, Religion, and a vast amount of other topics. I guess, in a way, it was a movie figure that inspired this after all, because I had envisioned how James Bond held peoples attention in conversations with knowledge of a certain topic.
Then, I realized I wanted to create. I wanted to leave behind something that was a part of me. I was a horrible artist when it came to drawing (i tried it), and painting. So, I joined Drama in high school. I was still coming into my own, and so I did Stage Craft, to just be involved. But, what was to become of that one simple move, would help mold the person I am today. I saw something in those tiny little plays that made my heart swell with a light that could illuminate the midnight sky. Acting. It painted a picture with words, with movement, with gestures, with history, love and passion!! It was a legacy waiting to happen.
But, what was to happen next, became even more obvious to the creation of me. You see, as in true "me" fashion, I became enthralled with acting and theatre. So, as it was, I spent more time reading about it. The history of theatre. The creation what acting is today. All things that piqued my interest, I would find in a book. And, then, at the same time, I started realizing something. These...words...they also paint a picture. Certain words had more weight, more vigor, more passion, than others. Certain phrases were rebellious. Certain stories were more powerful than others.
Thus, began my voyage into using these words in everyday life. People would be shocked, which interested me, by some things I'd say. It was a response to "words". I could say "Fuck." and catch an irritated look from an old woman. I could say "cunt", and garner a reply from people standing around me. And, so I began creating another part of my personality that I love...freedom of speech.
As I've said before, if you have a canvas (that is Life), and you have paint (that is words), why would you only paint in black and white? Wouldn't you want to use as many colorful words to paint the picture you desire?
A simple sentence, "Wow that movie was great.", becomes a powerful, rough, and brass sentence with "Wow that movie was fucking great." with a little more color.
I am now, the man that I wanted to be. I drink what I want, even though I didn't even start drinking until I was 22 (by choice), because I like to. I don't need to, I do it, because it is a part of the person I love to be. I write what I want. I say what I want. I do as I want. My actions my have controversial outcomes sometimes, but they are a direct result of me wanting to do what I wanted at the time, and therefor I regret nothing in doing so.
So, I smoke cigars, drink booze, swear, workout, eat right, study life, people watch, look at porn, and dissect humanity for what it is. I also stand up for the weak voiced, the silent walking, and bullied Average Joe. I created a man that is confident, articulate, intelligent, and passionate, and the benefit of that, is that I fear no confrontation, because there are only two outcomes to any situation, I will win, or I will lose, and either way, I am okay with either one. All, because, I believe that it helps me better understand myself. People are constantly searching for "themselves", but what they don't understand, is we get this one life...and instead of searching, they should be creating.
We are what we are, because of what we do. Don't let the world define you, because you can define yourself. If it feels right, do it. If it helps make you feel like "you", do it. Because, at the end of this road, there's death...and on that day, you'll want to look back and say, "I was the best me, I could be."
So, no longer do I need John McClane to be my guiding light. No longer do I need James Bond to tell me a martini is a classy drink.
Nope, I don't need any of those guys, because they're fictional, and I'm real. I'm a living, breathing super hero. I don't rescue kittens. I don't fly to burning rooftops and whisk grannies to safety...nope...I save myself, and those I love, from the mundane, and boring...I save myself from being weak, sad, and average. I still bleed. I will still die. But, I will die with the knowledge, that I conquered this cunt we call Life.
With all of that said...
Go fuck yourself...
-Knuckles
Here's the reasoning behind my madness;
In my youth, I kept my head down, walked softly, and made little waves. I was bullied, talked down to, and generally just pushed around by life. I watched movies with guys that stood up for themselves, and others, and envied them, as well as admired them. They were the Superheroes of the real world. Men like John McClane of Die Hard. He was an average guy, that under pressure, became a super human. He couldn't fly. He couldn't turn invisible, but he had something inside him that made him want to save his wife, and other innocent people, because they needed it.
These "other" people are average, non-heroic, Keep Your Head Down people. They were me. I was the one being rescued, but that's not what I wanted to be. I wanted to be the guy saying "Yippee Ki Yay Motherfucker!"
So, I looked deep down inside myself, and I pulled up the whimpering, weak, timid heart that I had, and shook the living fuck out of it....
On a sidenote, it helps that I'm an Atheist at times. You see, a lot of people believe that this is just our earthbound self. They believe in eternity, and going to Heaven, and an afterlife. I don't. So, I believe this is our one shot at being the best ME that I can be. Which, helped in the creation of what you see (read) in front of you.
Back to my Boring Ass Story...
I shook the living FUCK out of myself, and said "Time to nut up, or Shut up!", and started doing little things day in, and day out, that were not typically things I would do. Standing up to people started off as a little mumble under my breath, that usually followed by a "What?" from the other person. But, in true John McClane fashion, the mumbles eventually became words, the words became sentences, and the nerves became steadied. Resulting in a defiant, strong, and stable conversation.
After learning that I could create an individual that I thought was exactly what I wanted. I no longer looked to movies for inspiration, but in turn, started looking inward. I wanted to create, in my mind, the best Johnny that I could. My own personal super human.
I had always thought intellect was a profound thing, and so I studied. I studied things that "I" wanted to study. Not for school. Not for classes. For me. Things that I wanted to know. Things that I wanted to be educated on, so that if and and when it ever came up in conversation, I'd be well versed on the subject. I'd sit in the library for hours, just reading books on the biological makeup of humans, Genghis Khan, British Parliament, Shakespeare, Religion, and a vast amount of other topics. I guess, in a way, it was a movie figure that inspired this after all, because I had envisioned how James Bond held peoples attention in conversations with knowledge of a certain topic.
Then, I realized I wanted to create. I wanted to leave behind something that was a part of me. I was a horrible artist when it came to drawing (i tried it), and painting. So, I joined Drama in high school. I was still coming into my own, and so I did Stage Craft, to just be involved. But, what was to become of that one simple move, would help mold the person I am today. I saw something in those tiny little plays that made my heart swell with a light that could illuminate the midnight sky. Acting. It painted a picture with words, with movement, with gestures, with history, love and passion!! It was a legacy waiting to happen.
But, what was to happen next, became even more obvious to the creation of me. You see, as in true "me" fashion, I became enthralled with acting and theatre. So, as it was, I spent more time reading about it. The history of theatre. The creation what acting is today. All things that piqued my interest, I would find in a book. And, then, at the same time, I started realizing something. These...words...they also paint a picture. Certain words had more weight, more vigor, more passion, than others. Certain phrases were rebellious. Certain stories were more powerful than others.
Thus, began my voyage into using these words in everyday life. People would be shocked, which interested me, by some things I'd say. It was a response to "words". I could say "Fuck." and catch an irritated look from an old woman. I could say "cunt", and garner a reply from people standing around me. And, so I began creating another part of my personality that I love...freedom of speech.
As I've said before, if you have a canvas (that is Life), and you have paint (that is words), why would you only paint in black and white? Wouldn't you want to use as many colorful words to paint the picture you desire?
A simple sentence, "Wow that movie was great.", becomes a powerful, rough, and brass sentence with "Wow that movie was fucking great." with a little more color.
I am now, the man that I wanted to be. I drink what I want, even though I didn't even start drinking until I was 22 (by choice), because I like to. I don't need to, I do it, because it is a part of the person I love to be. I write what I want. I say what I want. I do as I want. My actions my have controversial outcomes sometimes, but they are a direct result of me wanting to do what I wanted at the time, and therefor I regret nothing in doing so.
So, I smoke cigars, drink booze, swear, workout, eat right, study life, people watch, look at porn, and dissect humanity for what it is. I also stand up for the weak voiced, the silent walking, and bullied Average Joe. I created a man that is confident, articulate, intelligent, and passionate, and the benefit of that, is that I fear no confrontation, because there are only two outcomes to any situation, I will win, or I will lose, and either way, I am okay with either one. All, because, I believe that it helps me better understand myself. People are constantly searching for "themselves", but what they don't understand, is we get this one life...and instead of searching, they should be creating.
We are what we are, because of what we do. Don't let the world define you, because you can define yourself. If it feels right, do it. If it helps make you feel like "you", do it. Because, at the end of this road, there's death...and on that day, you'll want to look back and say, "I was the best me, I could be."
So, no longer do I need John McClane to be my guiding light. No longer do I need James Bond to tell me a martini is a classy drink.
Nope, I don't need any of those guys, because they're fictional, and I'm real. I'm a living, breathing super hero. I don't rescue kittens. I don't fly to burning rooftops and whisk grannies to safety...nope...I save myself, and those I love, from the mundane, and boring...I save myself from being weak, sad, and average. I still bleed. I will still die. But, I will die with the knowledge, that I conquered this cunt we call Life.
With all of that said...
Go fuck yourself...
-Knuckles
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