Lazy Commentary: A Love Story

I'm too lazy to write something funny here.



My friend Lauren asked me to write her myspace bio and I couldn't have been more pleased to do so. I wrote 2 versions. The first one was rejected because Lauren apparently thought it made her look like a slut with no soul. And the second version was accepted but edited to make it more PG-13.

Here's the rejected version and incidentally my favorite

Hidy Ho Gals and Guys!!! The name’s Lauren Deen and I’m here to rock your world both metaphorically and with physical violence. As you can see in my pictures, I’m a cute blonde with not a care in the world. Actually, I take that back. I do care about the environment and getting sex diseases from my numerous gentlemen suitors. But, other than that it’s Party Party Party!!!! If you asked me if I like to chunder the man thunder because I like to please my man, I would say “absolutely not”. I like to chunder the man thunder because it makes me feel pretty. I mean isn’t that what the feminist revolution was all about!? Are you with me ladies!?

Anyway, drop me a line sometime and maybe we can go light some crosses on fire sometime.

Now the original accepted version

Have ever wondered what it’s like to born awesome? Well, you probably don’t. But, if you’d like know then look no further than me, Lauren Deen!!! It’s really not my fault that God made me better than you. It is however my fault that I taunt those less fortunate than me. But do I feel guilty? Not really. Hey, as long as I’m thin and pretty then what the hell do I care? Are you with me ladies?

Currently I live in Fort Worth, Texas where I was born and raised. I have a roommate named Lindsay. Lindsay and me are best friends for life. Which makes it real shame that I have to end her life in what should be the bloodiest display of my affection and love towards my dark master, Satan. HAHAHAHAHAHAA Just kidding. But seriously I’m not kidding. I have a super rad job that is in no way depressing. I also have a killer boyfriend named Michael. And when I say “killer” I mean he’s actually killed a man. I also drive a cute SAAB that’s great for fleeing the scene of the crime. I guess when it comes right down to it, life is pretty sweet….pretty fucking sweet indeed.


What I've Learned

-A person who can make a great martini is a person I can trust with my life.

-There's a lot of interesting and great music out there that's not under contract with a major record label. It takes some effort to seek this music out which is why lazy people listen to music they hear on the FM Top 40. Stay away from these people.

-I like to read novels about drugs yet I don't do drugs. Unless you count alcohol, nicotine and caffeine as a drug.

-The best way to know and understand someone that's different from you is to jump right into their world.

-Don't over analyze Bush and the war. Just know that one day his tyranny shall end.

-Amanda Newman is the coolest and most supportive person I've ever met. She will one day rule the scene.

-I used to co-host a talk/comedy podcast. From that I learned that doing the things you truly love to do takes commitment and consistency and it's rare that you profit from it. Unless you love accounting or something.

-If you're a woman and like the rock band Pavement or potentially could like the rock band Pavement and/or have a British accent, it's virtually guaranteed that I will fall in love with you.

-It's not "You're only as old as you feel". It's "You're only as old as your body makes you feel." Which means I occasionally feel like a 60 year old man.

-The mid-20's is by far the hardest time of your life. It's a time where you're discovering who you really are. It's a time where you start to see who you'll really be for the rest of your life. It's a time where you make less money than someone older than you and yet you both do the same job. The only reason that older person makes more money is because they supposedly have "experience".

-Those that have power in the world of religion are the ones making this world a bad place.

-Always seek out the interesting people. They're the ones who drink dark ale and/or scotch at the bar.


Hey There Math Whiz

If you're like me then you fucking love mathematics. It is such a fucking thrill putting equations on the chalkboard and trying to solve them. MY GOD THERE IS NO GREATER THRILL!!! This one time I ran out of chalkboard space but I was in the math zone so I just started writing on the floor. It took the cleaning ladies like a whole day to clean the chalk off of the carpets. That is how much I love math. This one time I was asked to order lunch over the phone for everyone in the office. When I was given a list of what everyone wanted, I simply looked at the menu and calculated the total plus tax and tip in my head!!! What can I say, I'm just that good. I was given a talent. And that talent is math. I can actually count to a million I'm so good.

Dr. Northam once challenged me to a math off. He was all up in my face telling me that I don't have what it takes to be the best at math and then he said that I don't have the balls to take him on. I got into math not for the glory but because I'm passionate about it. But, I couldn't resist. I accepted his challenge. And as luck would have it, I out-mathed Dr. Northam. His game was put to the mother fucking shame. 2 days later, Dr. Northam killed himself in front of his family.

So I ask you, does anyone want a piece of this??? I didn't think so.



Grandpa was going to explain the origins and current free market relativity of strawberry to some young woman he just met whether she liked it or not. He definitely drove the point home by sticking a small gun in her side as he went on about the strawberries.

It's true that Jose felt like a real man when he caught that fish and severed its head but he couldn't quite help thinking about what the fish's family were going to do now that their father was murdered for the sake of pointless machismo.

It certainly was hilarious when Kenny farted gasoline. Everyone at the office thought he was a hoot; especially at his funeral when he requested that his friends install a fart machine on his casket. Kenny is survived by his wife and 3 kids.


The Omni-Machine

One of the great things about having a wildy popular blog that has set the universe on fire in sheer awesome is that corporations ask me to promote their amazing products. One such product is The Omni-Machine. If you don't mind I'd like to take a moment to talk with you, the faithful reader, about this incredible product that is sure to change the lives of every single person on this planet.

The Omni-Machine (weighing in at just under 3,000 tons) is a multi-unit, multi-faceted, multi-directional home device that allows for inter-retroactive-electromagnetic-adjustment vectors. Fellas, I know you've been at home wondering when the in God's name are you going to get a decent inter-retroactive-electromagnetic-adjustment vector, especially with the wife nagging you to no avail.
Well, according to Mechanics Monthly, The Omni-Machine is hands down the best inter-retroactive-electromagnetic-adjustment vector device on the market today.

And here's the best part!!! It's only 18 easy payments of $599.99. Now that's a bargain you can write home about.

Now ladies, how many times have you been sitting at home, scrubbing your pots and pans that you love to scrub because you love pleasing your husband and have thought to yourself, "In circular polar coordinates, the generalized momentum corresponding to the angular velocity is the physical angular momentum. For an arbitrary choice of generalized coordinates, it may not be possible to obtain an intuitive interpretation of the conjugate momenta. What ever shall I do!?!?!?!". Exactly!!!!! This is why you should look no further than The Omni-Machine. The Omni-Machine solves these nagging issues in just 11 easy steps!!!

First, simply pre-power the Omni-Machine's tracking phase conduits. Second, run a diagnostics check on the read out devices. Third, hand crank the Omni-Machine 147 times to turn it on. Fourth, clothe yourself with anti-radiation gear. Fifth, enter in the preliminary 12 page unit instructions for the device provided for you in the owners manual. Sixth, pray to your God. Seventh, fill the Omni-Machine with a perfect mixture of distilled water extracted specifically from an aquifer in Eastern Africa and liquid Nylon. Eighth, using an Astrolabe, calculate your mathematical coordinates in relation to the X-coordinate of the nearest black hole. Ninth, prepare The Omni-Machine to begin it's function by entering in 12 pages of binary code via the Braille terminal (sold separately). Tenth, adjust the Tercel flange grid but, only if needed. And finally, wait for the results!!!

It's just that easy!!!!!!

Folks let me tell you, I love The Omni-Machine so much, I own 2 of them. And I'm not just saying this because I'm being paid to but, this is a product you can't go without. Believe me!!!! Once you buy an Omni-machine food will taste better and your quality of life will improve dramatically.

In stores now!


Tom The Soldier

I have a friend. His name is Tom. I went to college with Tom. We drank alot together and we've spent many hours examining the world. Tom is an intellectual, a book reader and a great writer. He's one of the smartest people I've ever met. A few years ago, Tom joined the Army. Currently, he's in Iraq fighting the war most of us had wished never happened. He's taken some photos (available on his myspace page) of the most talked about place in the world. These are beautiful pictures of a strange and often times ugly place. Come home soon Tom.


The Aristocrats

The Aristocrats joke has for many years been largely unheard of by the masses. It's a joke that dates back to the old Vaudeville days where comedians woould tell this joke to other comedians behind the curtain. The object and I suppose the funny that lies within this joke is in the middle and not the punchline. It's structured in such a way that there are many if not infinite versions you can create. In a sense, the joke is what you make of it...and what you make of it is the most disgusting, horrific thing you can possible think of.

Most people at this point know of the Aristocrats thanks to a documentary about the joke filmed by Penn Jillete and Paul Provenza. It's both a revealing look into what happens behind the stage of comedy clubs across the country and time and a surprisingly beautiful statement on free speech all at the same time.

At any rate, 100 comedians were featured in the film with their own versions of the joke and I decided to do my own version. Now, I'm not a stand up comedian and I almost feel as if I don't deserve to do this joke but since this is my fucking blog I'll do what I want. If you are easily offended, please do not read this at all!!! Also, if there is indeed a god, please forgive me.

A booking agent walks into a talent agency.

The booking agent says, "I just discovered the most incredible act this side of the Mississippi River!!! You have to represent these people. It's a family act"

The head of the talent agency says, "Yikes. I'm sorry but we don't do family acts here."

The booking agent says, "Trust me, you'll love this."

So the head of the talent agency says, "Okay fine! Tell me about it."

Well, before the show starts, there's a gunshot that goes off behind the stage. Suddenly, the curtain opens and there's a man dressed as an 18th Century Dandy Fop playing the harpsichord and there's also a large painting of the Word Trade Center towers falling in the background. A man and a women, both wearing wedding dresses, step out onto the stage. The couple begin to slowly, passionately, lovingly kiss each other. That progressively turns into violent, almost hateful kissing and groping. At that point the couple both pull out large knives and simultaneously carve swastikas into each others chests. Standing there, blood gushing from their chests, they suddenly become acutely aware that they are bleeding. Which is strange considering they just performed this painful act on each other. It was is if they were in the swastika carving "zone" and have now come out of that trance. So, the couple immediately freak out and remove their respective wedding dresses.

Now, the woman (naked and bleeding) begins to cram a cucumber into her anus (sans the lubricant) while the man (naked and bleeding) steps off of the stage for a moment. It's at this point that the act does kinda hit a lull because who hasn't seen a woman cram a cucumber into her starfish? Suddenly, the man walks back onto the stage dragging the dead body of what used to be their son. This naked lifeless corpse apparently had a bullet freshly placed into it's skull just before the performance (which explains the gunshot you hear before the show).

The man then sits the dead child onto his lap, crams his arm up into the sons asshole; so much so that he can actually manipulate the dead sons movements as if he were a puppet. The man then begins a ventriloquist vaudeville routine with most of the jokes centering around the Holocaust and O.J. Simpson. The O.J. Simpson jokes might seem a bit outdated but amazingly the man tells them in such a way that they seem fresh and he does a great job at making segways to the Holocaust jokes thereby making the vaudeville act very fluid and very funny.

Speaking of "fluid". At this point the woman after having crammed the now bloody cucumber into her anus for 10 minutes suddenly shits onto both herself and the crowd.
The woman then lets out a loud, raucous laughter at what she's done, slow claps at her accomplishment and then collapses on stage.

The man and his dead son-puppet slowly turn their heads towards the passed out woman. Then they slowly turn their heads back towards crowd and say, "Eh. It's a living." A brilliant callback to The Flintstones I might add. And that's the show. What do you think?

The head of talent agency, jaw dropped to the floor says, "First of all, why haven't these people been put into jail? Secondly, how can they possibly perform this act on a nightly or even monthly basis if they kill the son?"

The booking agent says, "Well, that's a good point. The only thing about this act is is that they can only perform it once every 8 years. After they kill a child they have to give birth to another one and raise it. I suppose we could hire or even steal some immigrants for the act?"

The head of the talent agency says, "No...We can't. What's this horrible act called anyway?"

The booking agent says, "The Aristocrats!!!!"


One post coming right up

I'm writing my own version of the Aristocrats joke. I shold have it for you soon. I love you all


Travelogue Cont.

February 1st, the morning time.

It was time to get up and shower and leave this awful place known as the Budget Host Inn. We decided to stay our next night in Santa Fe in a more appropriate Santa Fe styled hotel. First we decided to tackle the town in the daytime by hitting up a local restaurant for breakfast. It was a 1 and a half star eatery fit for no one but the prices were cheap and the seating was available and that’s what truly mattered to us. Across from our table sat a large table of beatniks who gave a very strange secularist/cult-ish prayer I’ve never heard of before devouring their southwestern eggs and potatoes. I noticed there were two gentlemen across from us that were our age and that they spoke with a British accent. I started to wonder what these guys and others like them thought of this place called Santa Fe. I’ve always thought of Santa Fe as being an artsy town with inflated prices, shitty jewelry and high crime. They must have seen it as the planet where Luke Skywalker was raised. At any rate, I felt like a lazy American when the two British guys and me and Jay exited the restaurant about the same time and we climbed into Jay’s truck to drive around while the two British guys were walking and were planning to walk everywhere.

We drove back to downtown because downtown seemed like a logical choice to see what Santa Fe had to offer. The city at this point was covered in snow. Precipitation in any form has not been seen here in quite some time. People, despite the horrid temperature, had a smile on their faces knowing that their drought had ended and they could finally take showers that lasted longer than 3 minutes, as mandated by city council. The Native Americans even decided to get into the swing of things by putting on a ceremony at the southwest’s oldest Catholic church. We approached the church after seeing people in full headdress from a distance. Inside, they performed an ancient Indian ritual, which was strange considering this was a monument to Catholicism. It was at that point that I wondered if people in the Midwest thought Native Americans in the southwest actually wore this cumbersome crap all the time. It was without a doubt a very strange thought amidst a rare and beautiful ceremony but it was at the same time a serious concern for the perceptions of the average American. At any rate, I snapped out if it and took some photos and we walked off.

We knew that Santa Fe was the capitol of New Mexico and we also knew we wanted to see the capitol but what we didn’t know was the location of the capitol. Walking around the town’s center where the sidewalks were with lined street vendors selling art and other trinkets laid out on foldable tables and on the ground on top of throw rugs, I asked the lady that sold the miniature dream catchers where we might find the state capitol. She told it was just a few blocks south of our location. It was apparently right around the downtown area. I always imagined government capitols as being large monuments on a hill and surrounded by gates and security guards and they’re so grandiose you feel like you need a tie to enter its hallowed halls. Yet when we pulled up to the side gravel parking lot of the capitol building, it was small and approachable and not wanting to stand out. As we walked towards the building, Jay and I noticed a small gathering. As we got closer and closer, we noticed it was some sort of organized event. And as we came even closer to this group of people Jay yelled out “Holy shit its Dennis Kucinich!” Presidential candidate Dennis Kucinich was holding a rally in the halls of the capitol and we managed to show up at the exact moment he was showing up. Obviously we had to join in on this momentous visit from a candidate doomed for failure from the start. People gathered around inside and more Native Americans performed a different ancient ritual and doused Kucinich with incense. So much for the stripping away of the pre-conceived notions of our native brethren. Dennis began his speech and then suddenly Jay and I became very bored so we left the supporters and their candidate to their rally of hope. It was time to look for a hotel.


The Travelogue

A couple of years ago I set out across the American West with my old college chum Jay. I scribbled a travelogue along the way and have decided to expand it in pieces. This excerpt is a day early on in the journey.

January 31st, 1:30pm

Before leaving Ruidoso, we decided to head up to the Ski Apache Slope. Jay and I didn’t have skis or a snowboard but neither did Jeff and Dana however Jeff and Dana were willing to spend the money to rent the proper equipment. We figured it would be much smarter to save that money for later down the line when we’re destitute and in desperate need to stay alive but we accompanied Jeff and Dana to the slopes anyway for scenery and a gondola ride. Taking that winding, almost nightmarish drive up the mountain was frightening for Jay I think. It was beautiful for me. This now officially made it the highest altitude I’ve ever been to, 11,000ft. From the top of the mountain you could see the New Mexico desert and white sands park just south of us and even on to Old Mexico. Coughing and wheezing from trying to acclimate myself to the altitude and smoking a cigarette at the same time didn’t quell my appreciation of this awe-inspiring beauty. On the gondola ride up, Jeff pulled out a couple of airplane bottles of Jeigermeister and a joint and insisted we partake. It’s not often I ride gondolas up mountains and on top of that it’s not often I do such a thing under the influence. Since I figured it would be ages before I ride a gondola up a mountain and even longer before I ride up a mountain in a gondola stoned, I couldn’t resist.

Jeff was an odd guy. I only knew him for the span of about 24 hours but he was someone I could tell had things together. He did things his way and went at his own pace. I met Jeff 24 hours prior to at his house in Lubbock, TX along for the ride with Dana, Jay’s friend from back home who lived in Lubbock as well. Jeff lived in an old house that you could imagine any college student would tear to shreds because he didn’t care. Jeff however wasn’t afraid of the touches of home and creating the look of a true settled life. Hanging plants everywhere, pictures of civilized things on the refrigerator etc. He was DIY guy. He made his own beer and his own wine. There was a secret handmade basement dug out by the previous occupants beneath the house. He said it was used to hide illegal immigrants on their way to a new life from Mexico but who the hell knows what it was for. Jeff decided to use it for something else he liked to grow. A substance I shan’t mention. He was the kind of guy I hope to be. Not necessarily in the sense of a beatnik that likes to grow and make things in a secret desire to go “off the grid” but rather a person that looks like he has a purpose and a constant smile of satisfaction on his face.

We reached the end of the gondola ride to the top of the ski slope. It was there where Jay and I said our goodbyes to Jeff and Dana. We took some pictures and exchanged pleasantries and then they briskly flew down the hill. I took some pictures of the landscape with my disposable black and white camera because I thought black and white photography would provide that extra aura of hip. We rode the gondola back down the ski slope sans the illicit substance this time. Getting into Jay’s truck in the parking lot I mentioned that this was the 1st time of the trip that we were truly on our own. We’ve been on the trip for a total of three days now and have thus far have crashed with friends of Jay starting with Dunaway in Wichita Falls and then Lubbock and Ruidoso with Jeff and Dana. Now, it was just the 2 of us and it filled me with a sense of excitement and anticipation and fear.
As I was the official navigator it was my duty to find us a way to Santa Fe and as Jay said “It has to be the most awesome route possible or I’m leaving your ass on the side of the road.” With that, I chose a rural route up the middle of New Mexico, which led directly to Santa Fe as opposed to taking the freeway.

It turns out I made a wise choice. It was a two-lane highway, which felt like it was built for no other purpose than for Jay and I to specifically drive through. It was the kind of scenery witnessed in a Western film. Gorgeous mountains provided a backdrop. A train off in the distance chugging along the horizon and free-range cattle and horses galloped along in the vast, empty fields all around us. We had managed to stumble upon immeasurable beauty not seen by the majority of America. I felt privileged. About 30 miles up this road, we came across a ghost town. It was a stretch of about 8 houses and buildings along the side of the highway. It’s quite an amazing notion when you think about it. It’s one thing for a person or a family to escape their community forever but it’s another for the entire community to escape itself. For everyone to collectively decide that this new town is hopeless so, lets move on. It happened a lot throughout the history of the west but I admire it. These people took a risk, were smart enough to realize that it was a bad move and moved on. All that’s left is a road for two young guys who don’t know their place in life to drive through and marvel at the world around them.

7:56 pm

We reached the city limits of Santa Fe and it was everything we had imagined it would be. The entire town from the Walgreen’s to the IHOP’s to the McDonalds to the municipal buildings were of an adobe design. Obviously the Navaho Indians when settling upon this great land thousands of years ago didn’t build these common monuments to mass consumerism so one would assume it was city law. After driving up and down the main thoroughfare from hotel to hotel searching for a decent hotel with a decent price tag, we settled upon a Budget Host Inn with a smoking room that we didn’t request.

After cleaning the road funk off of our respective bodies we set out on the town to take in some drinks and a grand Santa Fe meal. Walking downtown, I noticed that there were two constants of Santa Fe. Street beggars that appeared to be wayward surfers that have made a wrong turn or two and jewelry stores but despite this commonality that one could consider negative, downtown Santa Fe was intimate. It felt compact and alive the way you’d imagine a bustling European village would be. We decided to have our grand Santa Fe meal at the Blue Corn Café & Brewery. We should have known this was a tourist trap but by that point we were too hungry to care. After some micro-brewed pale ales and a southwestern style burger it was back to the hotel. It started to snow as I stared out the window before being too tired to sit vertical. I hate snow.


2 Items Of Weirdness

Life has gotten pretty boring for me as of late. I work nights for a boring job and go to my boring home and eat a boring sandwich. When things get this bad, I have this tendency to do weird things that only I would enjoy and if I tried to tell one of my friends about it they would simply give me an awkward stare and walk away(which has happened before). So why not share my strange behavior that's probably either a cry for help or the beginnings of suicidal/homicidal rage with the internet?

At work, I'm surrounded by paper clips. My job and the jobs of those around me demand alot of paper clips as a regular part of an efficient, functional work day. Recently I started taking a handful of paper clips and unbending them except for one end which now makes the paper clip look like a skinny "L". I have an example of what the paper clips look like in a picture below. *Note-Bullets aren't included in the activity I engage in. This is just the best pic I could find on Google.

Paper clip next to bullet

Anyway, I unbend these paper clips (usually about 20 a day) and when I step outside, I throw them onto the ground in random directions as I'm walking around or walking to my car or to where ever.

Why do I do this?

Well, if I do 20 paper clips a day, that's 100 unbent paper clips in the parking lot a week. 400 a month. 4800 a year. Eventually, people will begin to notice that the parking lot is littered with these unbent paper clips all bent the same way. Imagine you're a friendly, happy worker on your way to your car to go home and you suddenly notice that the grounds are littered with unbent paper clips. It would cause mass confusion in that person and it would probably stick to his head for the rest of the week. All because someone he's never met decided that he was bored with his life.

Item #2
On my way home from work I stopped off at a 7-11 to pick up some provisions (cigarettes and milk) and a panhandler approached me to see if I had a quarter. For some reason or another I began talking like Space Ghost. This is (roughly) the exchange between himself and me.

Panhandler: Hey man, I'm sorry to bug you but do you have a quarter you can spare?

Me: Sorry citizen but sadly I do not. I apologize for the lack of transaction but you see, I'm freshly out of the government's mint. However I do have a piece of plastic that will allow me the purchase of goods and services.

Panhandler: Ok...thanks.

Me: So long and farewell.

I'm not quite sure why I did this. I think I just needed to laugh about it later and share it in this blog.


Hi there

You know people called me stupid and crazy when I decided to put on a suit and stand on this red beam over a body of water until the day I die. I mean, can you believe that? This has been the greatest career move I've ever made!!!! I've been standing on this red beam over a body of water wearing a suit now for 10 years and life could not be any better. I've been featured in several business periodicals and I was also interviewed by Kelly Wells, co-anchor of "Good Morning St. Louis". Now that's what you call success. I wouldn't have been interviewed by a regional Emmy Nominee if I was still working as a cashier at the gay porno shop, would I? I thought so.

Life sure is sweet. When a class of 6th graders came out to visit me for a speech I was giving, I looked at those bright and youngsters and said, "There's a man that wears a suit and stands on a red beam over a body of water in all of us." And I stand by that, through and through. Even though I'm slightly mal-nourished and I stand a good chance of having a massive stroke, I think I can safely say that wearing a suit and standing on a red beam over a body of water day in and day out is like the top of the mountain. Enjoy your cubicle, suckers!!!!


Rot in hell mother nature

One of the many thunderstorms currently raping the state of Texas has forced my internet at home to not work. This was last week and of course the cable guy can't make it until this Thursday. But, once things are up and running again, I'll have a big post ready to go....maybe...probably


Movie Monster

SOUND Team of Austin gets better and better the more I listen to them. I have a feeling those kids will do something with their career.

Check out this fucking song if you wanna be cool



Somehow, and I'm not really quite sure how but, somehow I managed to trick my co-worker Eddie into promising me that he would grow a moustache. Eddie is a man of good ethics. He believes in keeping his word and when he tried to back out of it I called him on it. So currently he's angrily growing his beard out to shave it down to a moustache. He drew a picture on MS Paint to express his feelings.

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