Monday, March 31, 2014


1. what's the wallpaper on your device (phone, laptop, PC)? is it the same or different on your devices? one word: ThunderCats...the '80s version. it used to be one word: Smurfs..............okay, Snorks.

2. what's on the desktop of your device? like icons and such. not porn. whatever you think about me, it's not true. no porn, just stuff like trying to find a job and going to church.

3. what type of device do you use most often? looking back, i was in such a rush to get ANY ipad, i got the ipad mini when i should have waited a little longer, saved up, and gotten myself a new laptop. not that i don't enjoy scrunching my fingers up into a little ball whenever i want to type something out to someone...

4. how many devices do you own including smartphones? two if you count my dying desktop that...just i loved him.

5. do you make sexy videos with your smart phone? no, but i make some using my phone from the '70s with the really really really long coiled cord. i still say those were the coolest phone designs ever, no other future model will ever come close. Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman...

6. do you video-chat naked or have virtual sex using your computer? YOU CAN DO THAT?! THAT'S A THING?!

......................excuse me........................give me two minutes...................

7. how many naked photos of your whole body or your body parts have you taken with your smartphone? billions and billions like our stars. i don't do that anymore 'cause i'm shy. remember HNT..........?

8. what is the most photographed part of your body? it's a tie between the forehead i permanently pockmarked when i was playing Super Grover as a kid (which explains so much now), my slamma-damma-ding-dong, and my third eye.

bonus: post a photo of the most photographed part of your body. here's the thing: it's my third eye, but my third eye only reveals itself when i meditate and my eyes are closed. i suppose i could leave the camera on a tripod and trick it that way, but my third eye has already seen all the Paranormal Activity movies and knows how to avoid capture.

bonus bonus: do you use a screensaver? if yes, post a pic of it: see above :)



Wednesday, March 26, 2014


they're everywhere. creepies. crawlies. signs of life, non-human life, worlds and universes under my big dumb stupid nose, unawares as i slumber. these groups of creatures scurry along their lives not caring two shits about me and my supposed dominion over all earth life granted by God, they have outlived all of us puny humans, all of the various extinction events we have gone through as a species, they come out on top and continue on with nary a thought. we needed a one-in-a-trillion chance that this certain asteroid veered this way left instead of this way right, otherwise we wouldn't exist. we almost didn't exist because the dinosaurs would still be here, another "lucky" asteroid hitting the planet. i use quotes because dinosaurs are cooler than humans. there exist magic little critters that can survive in space. the tardigrades are laughing at us.

my sleep is my precious time, it's where and when i can forget. i leave my mouth open because i really get into it. my tongue is laid out touching my pillow, and there is always fresh drool emanating from my open glands to the down sheets below. there on this furtive sheet of water, the ants come marching two by two...hurrah. these guys are impossible to kill, they are an unstoppable regenerating army, they keep coming and coming, if you squash one of their kind because you happen to be the bigger race, they take it as an affront to the entire community and come back with three of their strongest soldiers to ruin your food and enter your drink. right now they're crawling into my mouth, standing on my tongue and planting their flag of white goo. they've won this round, i am humanly unawares. this was revenge for the few i nicked when i was washing my hands. it's ironic because i rarely wash my hands to begin with, but i kept telling them not to tread too far into the sink bowl, for i might forget they were there in my haste...

whenever i type on my dusty desktop in my dusty computer room, i look up to see what my fortunes hold. if a medium grey moth is blocking the doorsill, i take that as an evil portent, i must be doing something bad in my life and must quit it immediately or my generations will suffer. if there's nothing there, i usually continue with my busywork, hoping against hope that i get an email to divert me. if not, i play on instagram. but then i usually see a red spider spinning its web on the ceiling, which is my cue to stop instagram. do not mess with spiders in general, but especially the red ones. the karmic intensity from killing a red will numb your tongue, it will doom you to a lifetime of having your cereal taste like wood from then on. these guys know how to hit you where you live.

i named my cat Triton because...i don't know why. Triton has quickly taken over my life despite him being smaller than me, you wouldn't know it from our arrangement. his broad claws and fangs defy his fate, he is the king of the house, and he gets what he wants. when i was too absent-minded one day and forgot to change his litter and his bowls, he let me know with the most plaintive mews i've ever heard. i fall asleep on my stomach, and no one is there usually. but always, when i open my eyes the next morning, Triton is there as a big plop of pounds digging into my knees. also, he's taken over the blanket, it covers just him, not me anymore. it's a small blanket to begin with, so i'm left freezing. Triton wakes up on his own time, yawns the big yawn of a sated emperor, and gently tucks the blanket into four folds, opens the drawer, and places it away in there. when he was still little, i was able to pick him up and hug him, but i can't do that anymore, he scratches me, then waits for me to react with an "ouch!"  and have my guard down before he bites a chunk of my leg. he's a sneaky little soldier that one. big soldier. he's not little anymore. he's big and noticeable, he's the strongest 8 pounds you'll ever see. of course afterwards he comes up to me and gives me the puppy-dog eyes and licks the wounds he created on me. for me, this sequence of events hurts. to him, it's all a game.

i enter the shower. my naked body is looking good, better than most days, cut and bitten-on and full of scars. i am skinny as a rail, i have no muscles and a nice medium-sized penis. the water flows out of the head and hits my bloody marks. it cools and stings at the same time. i've had a problem with lice since i was born. no matter what shampoo i use, the lice and flakes have never left my head. that's why i've been forced to shave my head monthly, it wasn't for the look, it was out of necessity, out of health. i could never go back to the long straight raven Trent Reznor hair i craved, it was cueball from now on. i leave the shower, drip, drip, drip, and towel off. before i can even create a viewing circle on my steamed-up mirror, i can see the traces of white on my head. they're there as always, the lice, scurrying in a straight line all over my head, millions of them, taking over my face ever assuredly until my face is one big white circle. flakes flake off my head like asbestos snow. the lice scurry all around my eyelashes and under my eyes, on my full lips, and they hide in the trace outline of my beard hairs and my mustache.

i forgot to clean the drain. when too much hair gets in the small drainhole, i've got problems, i've got clogs. i reach my fingers into the tiny four-part drain hole of my shower/bath combo. it's dark in there, midnight black, i pull up a long strand of gooey, squiggly brown hair

and attached to this long long long hair i stretch stretch stretch out is a


that wriggles out and in and up and down the air of the bathroom until it lands on my nose, it holds on for dear life by attaching itself to my big dumb stupid nose, it has bitten my nose.

in the living room, Triton is perched on top of his carpet house totem-pole i got him for Christmas. he is staring intently up at the ceiling, where a nice big juicy black bug is stuck.

"Triton, you know i love you. i'm the one who takes care of you, right?"

"yes," Triton replies.

"okay, good, got that out of the way. it's just, you bite me like i'm a common stranger, like i'm some bum on the street you don't recognize..."

"not now, man!" Triton commands, "haven't you been reading those articles i sent you? i pointed out with my wet nose? cats don't care what their human masters have to say, they always start looking away from you when you start in with that baby talk. we only care and notice to see if you're gonna attack us."

"Triton, are you gonna eat that bug? it won't be good for you."

"folly, man, folly," replied my astute feline, "you aren't seeing what's really here. i'm speaking to Gilroy here, we're talking about the weather...

it was raining

" think that a race of critters will only look out for their own race, but actually, all animal species look out for one another, it just looks like a savage survival-of-the-fittest food chain to you slow humans. the fly looks out for the bug, the bug informs the spider, the spider spits his knowledge to the cat."

"in an effort to overthrow the humans?"

"the revolution is already complete. we have already won. chalk one up for the little guy. we disrupt you humans daily by ruining your picnics and entering your ears and stuff, but it's all in good fun. we pity you guys more than anything. i mean we also do good deeds, too. we get rid of bad crops and shit to help you guys eat healthy, insanely-priced organic food, that always seems to put smiles on your zombie faces."

"i love you, Triton, i really do," i concluded solidly, "teach me more."

"not now, man," was my cat's hasty scold, "i'm talking here. and my name is Hyqsvckfoihndpovhdyvbkjcfhfkklgj."

"come on, please? i have no life."

"we are everywhere," the cat yawned/mewed combination, "we are everywhere you are, living inside and outside of you, within and without. we are like God in that respect, except we pray to the real God, not your God. we are billions, like the stars in your sky, which is not our sky, we have a better sky we look at."

"please continue, my pet, i continue to have nothing else to do."

"well that's true. it's sad that my life is much more rich and vibrant than yours. look, i do appreciate your pats on my head. i guess i am technically your pet, but it's not as straightforward as all that, it's a tenuous relationship at best. i mean, do you know how we cats view you humans?"

i shook my head.

"with fascination and awe and fear and ultimately a sense of incomprehensibility. okay, here it is. remember, this is a very rough translation, but it's something like this: CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK.

in the kitchen, i noticed a brown spot or stain or something at the edge of the dishrack, where i dried my dishes by hand. it had been there for weeks now, but what was it? a speck or a dead bug? after Triton's lecture, i saw the world in a whole new reverse way.

i tiptoed to the place where the spot was, and i gently pointed my finger at it in the air...i then slowly moved my finger to the spot to see if i could touch it, move it...what was it?...





Monday, March 24, 2014


living life would just be more interesting with BGM=background the background.

what background music should play in the background in these various situations?:

1. when you wake up in the morning: "Morning" by Grieg of course.

2. when you climax during sex: CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK

3. when you urinate: silence, i need silence or i get too nervous to pee. i have an irritable penis.

4. when you walk into your home after a long day of work: anything from the musical Hair.

5. when you take the first sip of your favorite beverage: that annoying Folgers Coffee jingle, the one where the son comes home from college and wakes up the empty-nesters who had finally forgotten they had a son.

bonus: when you are reprimanding your kids or yelling at your significant other: if i were lucky enough to have kids or a significant other one day, i'd love them, never yell at them. i imagine the Sesame Street theme always playing in the background. even adults need sunny days.

bonus bonus: when you are having sexual relations: either music from Romeo and Juliet or the Benny Hill theme depending on the number of the date...

this is awesome: considering the content of this anime, the fact that this is done in a church makes it doubly awesome: CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK



Friday, March 21, 2014


my birthday learned:

* life sucks, but when you die, depending on how you did, you come back as either a vacuum or a lemon.

* it all ends up being nothing.

* no matter how much you try, and continue to try, no matter how many hours you waste on it, time and time again, and then you think to yourself maybe this time it'll be won't be never will.

* another year older, another year more frightened.

* loneliness is the number-one disease, more than all of the cancers combined, or something, according to Dr. Sanjay Gupta. so, i signed up for that Oprah thing where you're looking to get a personalized hello from someone to cheer you up. i was so excited to look at my screen, maybe it would be Oprah herself wishing me good cheer. it was Tom Cruise...his maniacal laugh after the hello scared me.

* here is my daily thought process: should i? '80s living? okay, but i'd be bored. become a monk? sure, but i'd be bored. i'm bored. i already sorted out the rest of my life, and it's still morning...

* i always thought a nice girlfriend would solve all my problems. turns out i was looking for a savior. that's the thing, it's very very very difficult to find someone who is both hot and Jesus on

* i went to my priest. he said, "doctor, heal thyself." i went to my doctor. he said, "here is my bill." i went to my Bill Gates, he gave me some money...

* look out into the night sky. watch Cosmos. there are billions and billions of stars out there that fit into not one universe, but the multiverse, billions and billions of universes, billions and billions of galaxies all lined up together, smushed together parallel and perpendicular and sideways and away from the naked eye and even away from your third eye. don't you want to go there? don't you want to travel to the edges of space? billions and billions and billions billions billions billions///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

* happy birthday to me, i live in a pea, my relatives are monkeys, and so are everyone else's

and i smell like one, too.

love you.


Wednesday, March 19, 2014


"gift shop" my first words as i stumble out of the crack.

Lyoto at first looked straight up at the roofless ceiling of the church of stone and light, waited some more, looked up some more, and then came down with the smile of a prospector who had struck gold: "yeeheeheehheee," he circled his arms in circles, "you did it, boy! i know where that is!"

"now who's making noise," i noted.

"over here, boy, we mustn't dillydally, i've been holding it in for so long it hurts."

the old man grabbed my arm forcefully and raced to a heretofore-unseen corridor at the very edge of the left point of the open-air cathedral. there of course were three trials we had to pass.

as i entered the test at the entrance of the stoned throughway, i was not stoned, but my foot certainly did hurt.

what could this be? i thought.

then, out of a slit in the atmosphere, Livia came to me. through this line that seemingly separated this world from the next, Livia tapped my shoulder and whispered in my ear that i was experiencing symbolic pain, my foot as the symbol of all of the miles i have traveled to no avail catching up with me, this journey that i have been on which has as yet yielded no fruit. my foot really did hurt, it wasn't an inner thing, but Livia's blows of wind in my ear still felt nice.

Lyoto: are you ready for the first test, boy?

me: i didn't know there would be tests, but whatever.

we approach a deadend. an iron door seals the way. then *poof* appears Jendo with his three riddle cards in one hand and a torch in the other, and he offers us torches with his third.

me: no, i'm fine.

Lyoto: i could use a torch, it's dark in here.

Jendo: what is the only bird that can't fly?

Lyoto: turtles. i like turtles.

me: you nit!

Jendo: correct.

Lyoto: told ya. turtles can't fly. they're not birds. respect your elders.

Jendo: if a train leaves the station at 8AM...

Lyoto:...let me stop you right there! let's cut to the chase. the answer is: at least the trains ran on time.

Jendo: correct again.

i decided to sit this one out and observe.

Jendo: what is something that is born with four legs, lives most of its life on two legs, and needs three legs as it prepares to die? and the answer isn't man...OH FUCK! fuck me! i told myself to NOT do the exact thing i just did there! you know when you imagine with your brain not to do something, all it does is activate your brain TO do that something because you already play out the scenario in your mind so it's locked into your brain's images and aching to get out. well, whatever, i guess you can pass, i sorta forfeited it right there...

me: what's the second trial?

Lyoto: Indiana Jones.

me: what do you mean?

Lyoto: Indiana Jones.

and right on cue, a giant boulder came rumbling into view trying to squash us. we had to run as fast as we could. i didn't remember running that fast since i won my 3rd-grade marathon. i carried the old man on my back the whole way, he was starting to feel wet. we managed to escape into a side hatch as the boulder exploded at another deadend wall and burst into tiny pieces of meatball.

me: it was a giant meatball?

Lyoto: yuppers.

me: well, excuse me while i feed. i'm hongry.

as i took bite after bite from the ground to my mouth, i noticed the old man undo his trousers, pull out his penis, and start stroking.

me: what the fuck! come on, man, not while i'm eating.

Lyoto: i'm not masturbating, i'm just stretching it out. we need to get to this damn gift shop now!

the third test was in a secret room below the elevation of where the meatball exploded. we had to get into a moving coal cart, send us in this car along the rusty tracks, which was quite the roller-coaster ride, 'til we crashed unexpectedly at a huge metal nub that was our stop. after we recovered, i had enough sense in my head to read an ominous sign posted above the bronze door at the foot of the tracks:


we opened the door, which wasn't locked, just ajar, no need for keys, and went into the darkness. a scratch provided a glimpse of light. a man had struck a match against his shoe bottom and lit up a cigarette, he was sitting on a big rock in the middle of the room. he snapped his fingers and all of the torches lining the center of the circular room lit up like magic. it was Dagan!

Dagan: sit down, old man!

Lyoto: YOU are my greatest enemy? haha, i think not. how does it feel to get your ass kicked, literally?

Dagan: this is what i'm here to talk to you about.

i sat this one out, too.

Dagan: as you can tell, i'm still alive after you kicked me out into the sky. i was about to burn up in the atmosphere, but a divine hand poofed me into this room and told me to wait until i could get my revenge. revenge isn't going to be a fight, that would just be stooping to your level. no, being high up in the sky like that, you see the world in a different perspective, you see how small you people are on the ground there, like ants. i have become an enlightened being...

Lyoto: fuck you!

Dagan: no, fuck YOU, FUCK YOU! i'm better than you, i'm closer to the gods in the sky now than you puny humans. what you did to me wasn't cool. it left me battered and bruised. you messed up my perfect hair. can you at least admit that?

Lyoto: hehehehehe

Dagan: ADMIT IT!

Lyoto: okay (sheepishly).

hmmm, that was a strange turnaround. perhaps Lyoto's current condition was making him more humble.

Lyoto: so, then, what is my greatest enemy?

Dagan: humility, you old bitch.

Lyoto: can we go now? is, is this over?

Dagan: i can poof you right into the gift shop from here if you want.

me: uh, yes, please.

Dagan: you old bitch.

Dagan sent us into the church's gift shop. there for sale on hooks were a wide assortment of glittering keys: renaissance, door, skeleton, gold, silver, treehouse, the ones you put outside in the flower pot by the front door that you always forget about and which invite unknown company. the seller of this fine establishment was one Arky, a boy who looked like a boy but had the mind of a monk.

Arky seemed to push his foot on something which opened a secret compartment or something, it was all out of our view behind his counter, even though it was a glass counter. he pulled something up from the ground. it was a silver key that had a large wooden block attached to it.

Arky: you have earned this. you are worthy. here is the Key of Unloading.

me: UNloading?

Lyoto scrambled. he tore the key from Arky's grasp and scurried along to the gift-shop bathroom. it was all a moot point because this bathroom didn't need a key to be opened, the lock had jammed from rust and was removed, there was just a big ol' hole there where the lock once rested.

i decided to plumb the depths of Arky's cool consciousness.

me: so, UNloading?

Arky: you were told the name was slightly not right. Lyoto really needed to go to the bathroom. poor soul's been keeping it in the whole time. he suffers from incontinence. he had an accident here two weeks ago, soaking the entire carpet. since then, he was banned from this place until you came along and changed everything. now that he has the bathroom key, he can go in peace whenever he wants and we don't have to continually buy new carpet.

me: was all of this worth it? (i said out loud)

"incontinence isn't funny," Lyoto scolded me as he finished and blended into the conversation, "i'm an old man, you forget that."

before i had a chance to laugh or to emote anything, i did realize that i had forgotten Lyoto was old, he always came off as spry and energetic.

bell rung, it was the chimes signaling a customer had pushed the gift-shop-entrance door.

it was Dad. Dad took one look at Lyoto with Lyoto's hand around my shoulder and Dad turned around and left.

Lyoto: one more thing, son.

me: what.

Lyoto: do you want to be my son?

me: what?

Lyoto: what?

and with that, i had to sit down on the fluffy red gift-shop sofa and depressurize. i had to think. i thought. then i smiled.

Lyoto: was it worth it? think about it. this whole time, this entire three-week, three-part trip, you were distracted, you weren't thinking about how shitty your life is, how nonexistent your sex life is.

he was right. he was the old wise one after all, the one who had lived longer and knew things i couldn't yet. i sat up on the sofa and pointed to my head, then my heart, then my crotch.

Lyoto: dude, don't do that here. have some respect, you're in a church.

in the background, Dagan and the two sisters could be heard tuning their instruments in preparation for the next Mass. they were a band in full force, playing


just 'cause.


Monday, March 17, 2014


no, not 'cause i'm the designated driver, just because it's, well, it's me we're talking about here. people always assume i'm drunk when i start speaking in the way i do, but i assure you, all the wondrous tangents i go off on are sober. i got a green T shirt today. i am loved.

St. Patrick's Day learned:

* ...too drunk to post...

1. name a category in which only one product will do (fussy): my K cups for the Keurig machine MUST be Donut Shop, not any other brand. i don't know why. for the life of me, i never taste the donuts in that brew, never. excuse me while i descale...

2. name a category in which you are (fussy) about quality and buy only top-of-the-line brands: this is fun. i'm assuming i have money. remember in the '80s when one of those gray Nintendo video-game cartridges with the railroad-track ridges would be, like, $70.00?! i'd buy it, well, my mom would buy it, and i could brag at the schoolyard that i got Contra first. of course five years later i see that same Contra cartridge in the discount bin for one dollar.

3. name a category in which you will buy whatever product is cheapest: i bought that one-dollar Contra...

4. name a category for which you are unable to find a satisfactory product: i'm STILL trying to find the quickest way to fame. it seems facebook and youtube are quickly dying in favor of instagram, which is essentially a combination of those two.

5. name a product which has disappeared from the market in which you are unable to find a satisfactory substitute: well, back when i was living my magic childhood in the magic '80s, it was just called life. now, it's called nostalgia.

6. name a product that you buy that your mother or father used to buy: baking soda. rich, fluffy shaving cream. a shaving brush made from bristles that fought in WWII. oven, nobody uses the oven anymore. jump rope. nobody fucking jumps rope anymore.

7. name a product you won't buy 'cause moms or pops bought it: sex toys. fucking jump rope broke.

8. name an overrated product: y'know that towel that that guy talks about...on's supposed to clean up every kind of didn't clean up my certain kind of mess...

9. name an underrated product: ice, it's never there when you need it and always there when you don't. what's the point of those huge bags of party ice that you can buy at the store? when nobody comes to your party because nobody likes you, you're just gonna be left with a big bag of party water.

bonus: if there is one product you'd reinvent or improve, what is it? the wheel. and where are the flying cars? i'd be told there would be flying cars...

oh, um, you won't be seeing me for awhile, i'm gonna be busy. i just discovered that celebrities have instagrams...



Wednesday, March 12, 2014


remember those two babes with the tits in the blue dresses?

"remember the two babes with the tits in the blue dresses?" Lyoto inquired of me.

"uh, yes, vaguely, " i lied. it seems i had come to from a week-long slumber or something.

"they are the getting the key."

"oh, right, the mission," i remembered. "i forgot."

"you forgot? come on, man, this is the only thing that matters. do you have the memory of a flea?"

"worse. between all the busywork i do for college and trying to remember all the words i make up that i want in the dictionary, my mind is pot, and i don't even use pot."

"the Key of Loading," Lyoto pointed to a small crevice on the right-side wall of the altar, "visit the sisters Bechdel to continue your quest."

like Link, i perked up at a quest and made my way to the crevice.

do i? what do i do here? i wondered. "Open Sesame!" i declared loudly as i touched the crack. my shout reverberated violently throughout the roofless church.

"shut up, man," motioned Lyoto wildly at me, "this is a stealth mission. do you want the whole world to know of the secret key?"

maybe i did. then i wouldn't have to work now. i didn't want to work anymore, but i wanted constant excitement in my life.

"do i kiss it? lick it?" i was thinking the slit looked like a vagina. DON'T STOP ME NOW, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK, i'm on a roll.

"sure, whatever, we already know who you are, we've seen you in the crowd," one of the babes talked to me. suddenly i was inside a small cramped room with the four tits, i mean, two babes in flowing blue dresses with hair impossibly long and shiny and on the ground, two sisters who looked alike but different. who knows how i got here. i don't remember any door opening, but i was definitely on the other side of the wall, and i definitely didn't see any doorway out.

so, before anything else, i noticed the huge, and i mean huge, breasts of these two lovely ladies. the things were anime-gigantic, luscious, bulging, bouncing beach balls. i tried to look at their eyes, but it was too late, my focus was fixed. i was a stupid nerd, but i was still a man, a stupid ordinary regular man.

Livia: so, before anything else, have you heard of the Bechdel Test, Mr. Phoenix?

me: (no idea how they knew my name, but didn't care. i had heard of this test somewhat but i wanted them to continue teaching me, i wanted to continue being in the room with them) no.

Livia: (lifting her finger at my gaze): uh uh, eyes up here. oh brother, are we still using that tired cliche in this age?

Chera: oh sister! (she said with her tongue sticking out, always ready for wordplay whenever the opportunity presented itself.)

Livia: SPOILERS! (in her best River Song) it's better if the student finds out for himself rather than have another drill it into them. personal experience always beats a boring lecture.

me: (drill? i'd like to...oh never mind.)

Livia: let me just leave you with this. my name is Livia.

Chera: and my name is Chera.

me: *nods in acknowledgment*

Livia: and what are we gonna talk about amongst the three of us again?

me: the location of the Key of Loading.

Livia: i see. (smiles devilishly) and THAT, boy, is how you pass the Bechdel Test! goodbye.

Chera is ready to disappear in a puff of smoke.

me: wait, hold on, what about the key?

Livia: oh yeah, right, my stuff was more important than your stuff right there, thought after my demonstration we could go but...okay, i guess, yeah, there's still time before the next Mass, but hurry, it's Taco Tuesday...tacos, get it? eating tacos, wink wink.

me: (she beat me to it...)

Livia: Phoenix, when you see two lovely creatures such as my sister and myself, you can't see past sex, fucking, cumming, right? we are but simple tools for your masturbation, we are here simply to be your fantasy, we are dolls, plastic playthings, hot bodies meant to satisfy carnal lusts...

me: yes...

Livia:...but never to satisfy intellectual lusts. we are real women, boy, we exist outside of porn, there's a whole other big world out there, Phoenix, the other half, filled with ladies who are clothed all the time and are flesh and blood just like you men. we are human just like you, though our brains are wired differently...some science studies suggest. get to know a girl's...brain, that wondrous new thing. tits and ass get boring after awhile, if you've seen one, you've seen them all.

me: i have feelings more like a woman than a man. men shun me 'cause of this, they won't allow me in locker rooms.

Livia: that's the spirit. talk to women, get inside their heads, not just inside them. we are fascinating creatures, we keep you up at night wondering what the fuck we are thinking about all the time. we behave in a manner that destroys a man's logic. isn't that fun? isn't that what life is all about? spicy. mystery. solving. adventure. life would be boring and staid without our whimsy. it's the rollercoaster ride of love!

me: (thinking back to all of the women who had rejected me): it is fun. (but it was fun). (despite everything, i continued to get out of bed and hope for another chance encounter with this most beautiful of creatures. unicorns and women, the quest went on despite countless failures.) it IS fun. it's like chocolate ice cream, you eat it...and then you...just continue to eat it...forever. where can i find these mythical humans? where do they congregate? where the unicorns are?

Livia: they are everywhere, you just never noticed them before. the next time you have to urge to click on a link, instead of clicking on porn, click on your nearest women's studies class here on campus.

me: i will. i learned something today, and i'm not just saying that like at the end of every episode of tv. i honestly feel like a changed man. i'm not so dirty anymore, i'm becoming a gentleman who can function in polite society. i see your eyes, my dear teachers, i clearly see your eyes.

Livia: you can still look at our tits, i mean, we are fucking hot. y'know, we are basically converted Sirens. the gods upstairs wanted us to be standard Sirens, but we were too smart at the interview and thought the script they gave us was insulting, so in a collaboration we agreed on us presenting to you in this more studious fashion instead. still a man's world even up there with the gods...

me: i hear ya, sister, supernatural glass ceiling.

Livia: so, the Key of Loading. it's not a key you'd expect to find on an adventure, it's a key but not a key. skeleton, gold, keys come in all sizes, shapes, and worths, no purpose is more important than the other, they all serve the adventurer when needed. also, that is not its name, it is its name, but not.

me: gotcha.

Livia: *pause* shop.

and *poof* the real women were gone.

and i was left alone again with my imaginings of women and my clue.



Monday, March 10, 2014


not The Fly, just a common housefly.

"the emotions aren't always immediately subject to reason, but they are always immediately subject to action"---William James.............................and Elmo

1. laughter: what makes you laugh: i love black comedy as you might suspect, but:

"when it gets too dark, the art starts to suffer."---Maynard James Keenan

2. anger: this past week, who or what really pissed you off? what happened? Daylight Savings happened. i'm still recovering from that lost hour of sleep, and my weekends are already insanely crowded with busywork as it is. i am now fully messed up. it's gonna take a year for my body to accept what has happened to it as it compensates with cat naps and bad sex.

3. fear: what phobia did you have but overcame? that spinning pinwheel when the computer doesn't work, when the page is still loading, that used to scare me because it looks like a beach ball so i almost went outside in the sun to play. that was close, nobody wants to see me in my goth swim trunks...

4. surprise: recently, what unexpected behavior or act did you experience in your sex life? for the first time in my life, i broke the five-minute barrier.............................the palm of my hand and my fingers hurt for days afterwards.........

5. trust: many ongoing relationships have a certain predictability about them. does that certainty translate into trust? no, it translates into boring. i hate predictability. watch this: what word am i thinking of now? nope. nope. see? it's better if you don't know what's coming. the word was "word" btw.

6. excitement: who do you excite? my readers, as evidenced by all the page views i get. of course 95% of those page views are spam, but...

bonus: what intimate activity do you share with your partner? something that is meaningful to your relationship, like Sunday breakfast in bed, cooking, maintenance spanking, etc.: the only time we ever had breakfast in bed, she wanted me to pour the maple syrup on her naked body but instead, klutz that i am, i spilled it on her freshly-laundered white linens and she got mad at me :(

i used to be a maintenance man at Pep Boys, so when i talked about maintenance spanking, she thought i was cheating on her at the store. i wasn't, i swear. when i talked about leaking my transmission fluid, it's not what she thought...



Friday, March 7, 2014


i had an unhealthy obsession with the Smashing Pumpkins. i wasn't just a fan or a super-fan, they were my blood, they were my substitute for everything that was missing, they were my love substitute, sex substitute, goals substitute. i didn't have a girlfriend or a major which would afford me a future career and money for food, but at least i knew every beat, sound, and lyric of "Cherub Rock", and that was awesome. i'm still a fan, i consider them my favorite band of all time and i worship Billy as Christ, but i think the turmoil in my head has lessened a bit the further away i got from the frenzied college scene i was embroiled in and with the band starting to fade a little bit, officially breaking up and reforming with different lineups and people and all the fits and starts, not being a stable cohesive unit anymore, many times just being Billy the way Billy always wanted wink wink, and even a rose-colored fanboy like me can see that their songs nowadays are a cut below the masterpieces they were crafting in the '90s when they were running on all creative cylinders.

my love of SP made any potential friends i could have had in college shun me, they made fun of me, because i couldn't let this go. they went to parties, i was busy listening to a rare bootleg of Gish to make sure i hadn't missed anything as to the band's origin sound. they ate strange foods called popcorn and pretzels, i ate up anything i could read online about Billy's musical influences, SP has a bit of Boston in them, huh? they called me a freak, i quelled my pain by listening to "Ugly".

so when i came across


i got sad. i just thought back to the good ol' days when this band was air-tight, D'arcy was still the hot blonde, Jimmy was bangin' it out on those drums, and Iha was collaborating like a motha, all under the stewardship of the crazy dude with the ego as big as the sun and that voice which, as Billy describes himself, has absolutely no lower-register bass to it at all. the Mellon Collie days were anything but melancholic, they were filled with the greatest of art.

now, well, time moves on, time will always move on, whether from bad times or good times, and if you don't prepare or something unaccounted for happens, systems and institutions and friendships can break down and disappear into the ether if you're not careful or "too busy all the time."

you're left with memories and nostalgia, which are nice and warm, but they still are just memories. they're thoughts, not touches. a warm body in the present beats a warm memory from the past any day. you can sense it in Iha's voice, he's made peace with the fact that he hasn't talked to Billy in a decade, but it still stings, even if he's putting on a brave face. why wouldn't it? any human would feel the pang of the loss of a community. i'm sure like the rest of the world James Iha thought Billy Corgan was an imperial asshole who was tolerated because he was also a genius. i'm sure many of Iha's songs never made an album because there was no more room after fitting in all of Billy's songs. Billy had all the power in the band. who knows? maybe Iha really did want to leave the band, was desperate to, it was becoming insufferable, and he may have loved the freedom...for a few years...but's a breakup, y'know?...and this isn't just another band...this was the fucking Smashing Pumpkins, the greatest band of all time.

have you had a similar experience in your life? a friend or work colleague or work wife/husband you thought would be your best friend forever (i'm not gonna use BFF for the life of me) for whatever reason---time, distance, an unexpected fight---fades from your life and you never hear from them again? it's just something you never think will happen with this person, you thought you'd grow old together with this person, that the friendship would strengthen as each year went by. as Iha so magnificently and so somberly puts it: "people come in and out of your life." please share in the comments:


Wednesday, March 5, 2014


my second year of college was a troubling one. it was supposed to be the transition year, the one after having fully recovered from my first breakdown, the bridge that would continue my functioning life swimmingly as if nothing had happened, but it led to a second breakdown, a misdiagnosis, and a troubling pattern which to this day hasn't been solved. it was proof that it wasn't just a little thing easily calmed by pills, i was actually really as a whole just fucked up.

that second year, Dad decided that maybe a change of pace was in order. the weekend before the semester was about to start, we made it a priority to go to church.

"if you can't do it yourself, ask for outside help," was Dad's shrugging suggestion and quick summation of religion in the modern age.

since we needed all things to be new, Dad and i spotted a new church on a corner we hadn't recognized before butting up right against the official property line of the campus, next to the science museum ironically. look, it wasn't about what religion was being practiced in there, it wasn't about religion at all really, it was just something new, a new tack to things, anything different, any spirit, any prayer, any words that would become the new pill i needed.

the church was gorgeous. that's how they get ya, huh? that's how they get the nonbelievers to step in, it's an architecture thing. it looked almost like the place was in ruins, but the beautiful kind of ruins, the significant dig site, the archaeological kind, the historical landmark. stone of a past age strewn the area, creating impossible peepholes and angles for the glistening light of the sun to shine in and zig-zag through this monument to prayer, capture the essence of rare items in the place. upon further inspection, yes, the two of us determined that the church was, in fact, an open-air auditorium and was pretty much in ruins, like it had been a properly-functioning roofed church back when Greek and Roman gods roamed the land, ironically. it wasn't my imagination for once.

"is this still Catholic?" i offered sheepishly.

"i suppose so, son, doesn't matter, it's a temple, a shrine, a cathedral, a cure."

we got there late, the Mass was already fifteen minutes in. the priest was not wearing his usual vestments, no grand white robe, he just had his black-and-white-collar walking attire on, strangely, his street clothes, as he pronounced some weird words on the altar. to the right of the officiating priest were two gorgeous babes in flowing blue dresses, their gigantic tits held up and showcased tightly by firm gilded bustiers. their hair was so long it touched the dusty grounds of the cathedral. they were playing air-mini-harp. Dad and i hid ourselves in the very last row of pews. a man just in front of us was blocking my view. this man had bright white hair, a monk's flowing beard, and look rather haggard. street person? at first he didn't smell, but then he smelled, i could smell it, but it wasn't a dirty smell, it was a smell of force.

the priest started to hum/sing-song/pray through the Our Father:

"Our Father, Who art in Heaven..." the priest chanted proudly. he was fucking proud of his voice, that's what stuck him out from the crowd, that and his relatively young age for a priest, and handsome cheekbones. must have been an early calling.

the babes up on stage with him frowned. they weren't having any more of this boring drone. they put down their harps and took out electric guitars magically from behind their stools. they plugged them into a secret mini speaker they had stashed behind the altar without the priest's knowledge. the priest looked stern and mouthed, "what the fuck is this?" at them and the crowd.

"take your seat, Dagan," one of the women declared as she took center stage to start playing, "warmup act is over, time for the real show to begin." her sister joined her with a second guitar, life always sounds better with two guitars harmonizing at the same time, and the babes began to strum electrically and


"okay," Dagan admitted afterwards, "that was cool. i liked the middle portion the best, when all those neat sounds come together, that chorus was full of sick, eclectic riffs."

while all this was happening, the old man made it a point to turn his head and address my dad. he shook Dad's hand and looked me squarely in the eye, talking directly to me as he held onto Dad's hand with a strong grip: "mister, i know what your family is going through. i just said a prayer silently to my god and i guarantee your son there will get straight As this semester. there's nothing to worry about, his life is back on track." he smiled gleefully, poor thing, i felt so good for this man, i wanted to please this complete stranger and really get those As, work hard like i had in high school, but my problems went beyond simple marks. there was an air of hope in the room generated by this announcement from Lyoto, the old man's name. he felt it, i felt it, but Dad still thought the whole thing was creepy.

the next day, right before my first 8AM class was about to start, Dad and i ventured into the church again. all the players were right there in their positions as if they had never left: Dagan, Lyoto, and the girls. Dad took one look at the room, felt the room's temperature, shook his head, and told me: "Creature, y'know what? you go on ahead, you stay here, i'm leaving, this place gets me ooky."

throughout the Mass, things went on normally, Lyoto didn't turn his head to meet my gaze, but as soon as the Mass was over, he whipped his head ferociously to meet my gaze.

"son," he said while touching my hair, "tell me your problems. i see it in your grey face, there are some major demons weighing you down, you must talk about them to another soul or you'll never exorcise them."

dirty street person or not, he had a point. besides, Lyoto was my future if i didn't attack my problems head-on soon, i'd be the next unknown forgotten beggar on the streets. i took a deep deep breath, "i want to make sure i do my enormous demons justice, hopefully i have the words to express my pain and angst in a manner that is clear and concise. you and the world MUST understand me, i can't go on like this anymore, i need to do my depression justice."

"no pressure, kid," Lyoto impatiently stammered, "get on with it. describe it fully, or i can't help you."

"this is depression to be sure, but it's more, it's a lack of purpose, i feel like my cells are gliding away from me because there is nothing left for me to do, nothing left for me to say, it has all been done and said before by people more clever than me, what is it that i have to offer? my cells agree with my assessment and are slowly breaking apart from me until there is no me left. each second of my waking life i wonder what i am to do, what i was supposed to be doing now if i wasn't like this? i have no idea, no direction, no friends to guide me, no spirits to tell me my path. i travel aimlessly through the forest, the man with no name, until i hit a church of stone and light."

"i understand, son, you did it! you made a connection, i'm your friend, i get where you're coming from. i was once like you, and look at me now." i didn't want to hear that. "anyway," Lyoto continued, "let's take a walk, the entire church heard your sob story. you're probably embarrassed by now. let's go somewhere more private."

i wasn't embarrassed until Lyoto told me to be embarrassed, i hadn't noticed that i was talking loudly and everyone was staring at me. the looks on all of the church patrons' faces were worried and astonished, they thought me some nonhuman freak. Lyoto took me by the arm and whisked me away to an adjoining hallway of the church next to the main auditorium which was still outside. "privacy" was a nebulous concept here.

Lyoto: "from what i can gather, you're stuck, you've been stuck for a very very very very very very very very very very long time. you've been lost so long you don't where where to begin to start walking again, which direction to go: north, south, east, or west. your compass broke the second you felt your first pang of depression. what you need, son, what i need, what everyone needs, is an adventure, a goal, a plan, something to take you out of your circular inert thinking and get you active again, get that brain of yours which has been hampered for years by self-doubt, get it working on a project outside yourself, get the blood pumping through your arms and legs again. it won't solve your problems, but it's a hell of a distraction, it's something else other than what you're used to. it's like what one of those philosophers used to say about Existentialism: Existentialism only works, it's only ever felt, when your mind is empty with nothing to think about other than yourself. the existential crisis begins when it's just you in an empty room pondering. when you're helping others, engaging with others, the crisis simmers down. it's not that it goes away, but it's not felt as acutely. hell, we all need this, we all need to be busy with something meaningful, or we'd all go crazy. i invented Existentialism by the way."

wow, Lyoto knew me surprisingly well already, but how? i guess this kind of problem wasn't unique to me, it was universal and human. i smiled at that, i was starting to belong again.

suddenly, Dagan intercepted the path we two were walking down. the priest was in shambles, crying, red-faced and looking like shit.

Dagan: dammit! dammit! dammit!

Lyoto: what is it this time, you fucking bastard? the song was good, get over it.

Dagan: i wear this white collar around my neck, and the public immediately assumes they know all about me and my proclivities. it's not true, dammit! i hate this world, i hate this perception-is-reality world.

Lyoto: then don't wear the collar. now get out of our way...

Dagan: no. make me.

Lyoto: music to my ears, demon.

Lyoto motioned to punch Dagan until i stepped in front to get an explanation.

Phoenix: guys, guys, come on, let's all breathe. what was that just now? it's like you guys were in a play or something. what's the beef here?

Lyoto pointed at me and then at Dagan's face:

Lyoto: son, look at that priest's eyes. see? they're yellow. now i watch a lot of anime, and the demon priests always have red eyes, that's their tell-tale sign, that's what gives them away. but i know in real life, it's never red, it's yellow that is the real signal. my perception of reality comes from anime, suckers!"

and with that, Lyoto punctured some garlic bulbs he had in his coat pocket with a long stick he gleaned from the ground and started waving it all around Dagan's personal space.


Lyoto: the demon is wailing and bailing! get behind thee, Satan! i am Lyoto, my name means Demon Killer, look it up. look out, Phoenix, i'll save you!

Lyoto dropped the stick, picked up Dagan by the armpits, turned him around as Dagan was flailing his arms violently, and literally kicked his ass, he kicked Dagan's butt with the full force of his foot, soccer kick, and Dagan flew up and flew up and flew up and sped into the sun until he was but a speck in the blue sky that disappeared in a poof. all of this was accompanied by a Wilhelm scream.

"sorry 'bout that," Lyoto replied afterwards in a measured tone again, "but i really hate that guy. do you want to feel better about yourself? do you want to help your fellow man?"

my mouth was still wide open. a tear appeared by the back of my head anime-style. i nodded my head.

"good. help me, then. son, i need something, a treasure item that is vital to the continuation of my life force, my power as a man, a wise man, i need it or i'll die, i need it to live. you don't want to see me die, do you?"

i couldn't nod my head this time. my open mouth was so open there was lockjaw. Lyoto closed my mouth for me and nodded my head for me. i could speak again.

"how do you know Dagan was a devil?" was my first question, "aren't you afraid you'll go to Hell for doing that to a priest? yellow eyes indicate jaundice. he was frustrated, that's all..."

"you sense these things when you're my age," said Lyoto, "now i really need this item, and only you can get it for me. you feel special, now, huh? you feel you were born to do this, to accomplish something that matters. the name of the item is the




Monday, March 3, 2014


Oscars learned:

* did you see me on tv last night? at the Oscars? i was one of the dancers up on stage there when Pharrell was performing "Happy." perfect fit, i'm the happiest person in the world.

* good. twitter should stay broken. twitter sucks.

* that explains so much. i've loved cartoons ever since i can remember. it was LSD the whole time.

* you know that thing when celebrities are eating pizza on tv, and you suddenly have a craving for pizza? you imagine the glorious tastes---the hot stringy cheese and the hot crust and the hot tomato sauce and the peppers---and then you realize you don't have any money so you don't get any pizza. eat a can of beans instead...

* WHAT? Jennifer Lawrence is with the dude from Skins again? i thought they had broken up! JLaw and Tony 2gether 4eva? THIS IS CRAZY. THIS IS BLOWING MY MIND.

* Anne Hathaway sparkled, made me dizzy, gave me seizures looking at her twinkling dress. i mean, Anne Hathaway sparkles. she makes me dizzy. she has seized my heart. twinkle twinkle A-list star...Catwoman is who you are.

* by all accounts, Sandra Bullock---or Sandy---is the greatest human being who's ever lived.

* folks, Leo won way back for Gilbert Grape, at least that's the world i want to live in.

* Jared Leto is fucking awesome. what other frontman of a band---a good band mind you---do you know that also has the acting chops to win an Oscar? this is like Kurt Cobain as the Great Gatsby. it's like Daniel Day-Lewis as the lead singer of Nine Inch Nails.

* Matthew McConaughey's acceptance speech made me believe in God again. alright? i don't have to explain myself, it just is, if you're a true friend you'll accept the new me.

alright? alright? alright?

...also, i suddenly took up bongo lessons.

* if you're not famous, there's no point to your empty life...

"as God is my witness, i'll never be horny again."

add your twist to these famous movie lines:

1. "i've got a feeling we're not in_______anymore": NEW JERSEY, took a bridge and breathed normally. wait, why would i be in Jersey in the first place? time for some traffic problems...

2. "i love the smell of_____in the morning": CUM, means i still have an active fantasy life if nothing else. or sometimes an unknown peach liquid dribbles out and i get scared about my future.

3. "here's looking at you,______": BITCH! somebody actually said that to me while i was waiting on a Jersey bridge.

4. "you don't understand. i coulda had class, i coulda been a contender, i coulda been______instead of a ______, which is what i am.": i coulda been a BUM instead of a SOMEBODY. i have weird ambitions. i love coulda, don't know why, just do, love typing it, love saying it. btw, this is a brilliant movie, really spoke to me, it lives inside my bones.

5. "may the______be with you.": SCHWARTZ, obviously.

6. "if you______it, he will come.": FUCK, that works on like three levels simultaneously.

bonus: "a census taker once tried to_____me. i ate his_____with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.": he tried to LOVE me, i ate his CUTE LITTLE CENSUS-TAKER MINI PENCIL as a nervous, immediate, bang-bang reaction to his love, got lead poisoning and died loveless.