Friday, February 25, 2011

The Realness

I love realness. Not racist; real. Not rude; real. Profanity, humor, bluntness,  right in your fucking face. It is so correct to be politically incorrect. The best people are the ones who tell it how it is without giving a shit what other people think about them. We only censor ourselves because we don't want others to think we are the racist, sexist, biased, douche bags that maliciously hurt others. I want to laugh and not judge, say it and not censor it. If someone makes fun of my race, I want to make fun of their race right back and then take a shot of Jack Daniels with them. I want everyone to make fun of each other starting with themselves without getting upset. The phrase is make "fun" not make "sad." I love when Italian people call themselves pasta meatball eating guinees, when Irish people say that they drink too much, when Chinese people say they can't drive, when black people say that they're scared of water, when gay people say "no homo", when Jewish people call themselves cheap, when celebrities go out and get wasted without caring, when porn stars tweet about sex, or when brown people say "I'm Indian...dots, not feathers!" If you're  poor say  "I'm broke as a muhfucka!" and if you're rich say "I'm rich bitch!" If you can't get laid say "I have no game." If you get it in every night say "I get mad ass." If you smoke weed say "I'm high as shit right now." If you don't smoke weed say "I never did and never will mess with that shit." There is no correct answer as long as you keep it one hundred. If you offend someone with your comments, you are talking to the wrong person. Real recognizes real and will understand the difference between a joke and a jab. The most attractive quality in a person is assertiveness. They are assertive because they are telling the truth with no secrets or games. Do you like this blog? If I gave a shit, it would contradict my whole point. If you don't like it, feel free to tell me. I won't be upset you didn't like it. I would be upset if you didn't keep it REAL.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

The Voice Inside a Drunk Girl's Head

Uh oh. There you are again. I warned you last time but you never listen. How many shots of Patron did you do tonight? How many cosmos and glasses of white wine did you sip until the problem started occurring? You were such a sweet intelligent girl and then BAM, all of a sudden you're Courtney Love. Your breath smells terrible as you scream and butcher the words to Rihanna's Only Girl in the World. You were cute and innocent and now all of a sudden you keep saying "mothafucka" and throwing up gang signs. Stop using the N word you aren't black. How much do you weigh? 110? You thought you were cool keeping up with the others but you obviously have to reassess your tolerance level. Oh no, don't go up on the bar please don't.....I told you you would fall. Now your knee is bleeding. You smell like perfume, hairspray, sweat, and blood. Stop pulling on that guys shirt and falling all over him. You're 24 and you need a babysitter. Nice underwear. Ok lets find your friend because she has your car keys. Wait a second, you have car keys?!?! No you are not going to be fine stop saying that. Where is your phone? Great... its dead. Who did you come here with? You really forgot all of your friend's names? I can tell they really care about you by letting you tweek out in corner like this. Wow, you just puked. I feel bad for that guy with the baggy jeans and button down over there who's about to make out with you. Oh no, this is an actually really important person to know and you're slurring all of your words and telling stories that don't even make sense. Can't you see that he's forcing a smile and trying to get his friend to pull him away from you?! You are actually a beautiful girl, but your intoxication is very unflattering. I understand you want to go out and have fun but you are turning into that girl that no one wants to go out with. Who is this guy you are getting in a cab with?! Can you hear me at all any more? Your mind is now black like the ending of the Sopranos. You are not even going to learn from this experience because you need to remember your mistakes in order to learn from them. Tomorrow you are going to reek of cigarettes, Jim's cologne, latex, and regret. One day you will listen to me. I'm done now. See you next weekend.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

My Religion

WARNING: Before reading this please know that I am not trying to influence you in anyway. This has been my life experience. "You just do you, and imma do me"    

What religion am I? I was born and raised Catholic until I reached the age of sanity (George Carlin.) I am now a man of all religions. Think of a light spectrum (Pink Floyd/see below.) I am the white light that is the source of all colors after it is filtered through the piece of glass. The Bible, Qu'ran, Torah, etc...(only ones I could think of) share the same message disguised by different symbolic stories. Peace, love, happiness, the present moment (the white light) are the religion I follow. Who is my God? (or word that I am wondering if i should capitalize or not) My God can not be put in a box with your God. My God is a verb not a noun. My God does not judge. It is the experience, the force, the intention, the stress-free feeling that lies underneath the emotions and thoughts that cause anxiety, stress, and depression; like the sand remains still as traffic passes through the ocean. Do I need to use the word "religion" or "God?" They are just words that point in the direction of your own subjective outlook and experience of life. Am I an Athiest? Hell no, that would mean I have an absolute belief in a set of manmade rules. Following rules doesn't make you a good person. I don't know what religion I am, I just follow my path that I have zero control over. Once my mind stops looking for God and I feel the absolute serenity of a quiet brain then and only then do I experience God (dog spelled backwards) a.k.a. the happy feeling that Jesus, Allah, or Buddha want me to feel.

Why I started a blog

I started a blog...because Twitter doesn't have enough room for me to write shit...for short shit read my twitter...for long this