Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Meredith???
The details of Meredith have been hazy at best. What should I expect to find there? I want to make sure I pack properly.
Monday, November 28, 2005
So far...
So far I haven't had much urge to blog now that I'm in Australia. I know some people like to document their travels and I'm sure I will at some point but I've been far too busy meeting oodles of new friends here in Melbourne.
I feel like it's hard to blog about my experiences here without sounding overly glib or potentially hurting somebody's feelings if I don't mention them. I can't talk about some friends without including everybody.
I haven't been able to use the ATM here and trying to call my bank in the US was hugely frustrating. My hosts have been incredibly kind and generous and make me feel incredibly welcome. They're everything I could have hoped for and life here at the commune is smoothe and simple.
I can tell you that I got to hear a local "poet" share his "brilliance" with a very special poem entitled Itty Bitty Titties and I ate a huge portion of marinated kangaroo steak. Oh and my friend presented me with a masterfully crafted plastic aboriginal hunter. I know it's a good one because it was manufactured in China. How much fucking plastic do they have in China to make all the utterly useless crap they produce? And why in the name of Sweet Lucifer's bean bag do we buy them?
I miss Freckle Dick and Ass Breath. Every time I see a friend's dog or even a dog on the street I wish they were here. It's nice to be pack leader. It's also odd because no matter how much I seem to drink I haven't gotten that buzzed feeling. Perhaps that's for the best as my head should be getting screwed on tighter.
I'll do my best to find the funny in the next few days. I think it's best if I get away from all this boring personal drivel anyway.
Perhaps you could send me some inspiration or idea to help me jumpstart my brain. Something in my head is just completely off and I've gotten into this very serious state of mind. I'll joke around as usual but my heart isn't into it. I hope I can find a way to have fun when my future is so wide open. I want to be able to enjoy the moment instead of worrying about my murky future.
Any and all suggestions for achieving this are sincerely welcome. My life has no creative focus or structure. I'm in dire need of both.
Blogitty blog blog blah blah. Tired - bed calls.
I feel like it's hard to blog about my experiences here without sounding overly glib or potentially hurting somebody's feelings if I don't mention them. I can't talk about some friends without including everybody.
I haven't been able to use the ATM here and trying to call my bank in the US was hugely frustrating. My hosts have been incredibly kind and generous and make me feel incredibly welcome. They're everything I could have hoped for and life here at the commune is smoothe and simple.
I can tell you that I got to hear a local "poet" share his "brilliance" with a very special poem entitled Itty Bitty Titties and I ate a huge portion of marinated kangaroo steak. Oh and my friend presented me with a masterfully crafted plastic aboriginal hunter. I know it's a good one because it was manufactured in China. How much fucking plastic do they have in China to make all the utterly useless crap they produce? And why in the name of Sweet Lucifer's bean bag do we buy them?
I miss Freckle Dick and Ass Breath. Every time I see a friend's dog or even a dog on the street I wish they were here. It's nice to be pack leader. It's also odd because no matter how much I seem to drink I haven't gotten that buzzed feeling. Perhaps that's for the best as my head should be getting screwed on tighter.
I'll do my best to find the funny in the next few days. I think it's best if I get away from all this boring personal drivel anyway.
Perhaps you could send me some inspiration or idea to help me jumpstart my brain. Something in my head is just completely off and I've gotten into this very serious state of mind. I'll joke around as usual but my heart isn't into it. I hope I can find a way to have fun when my future is so wide open. I want to be able to enjoy the moment instead of worrying about my murky future.
Any and all suggestions for achieving this are sincerely welcome. My life has no creative focus or structure. I'm in dire need of both.
Blogitty blog blog blah blah. Tired - bed calls.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Hey Australia, let's spoon!
I only pray that the Australians enjoy me half as much as the Germans love their Beloved Hasselhoff.
I'm on my way out the door.
kranki
xoxo
I am on my way to the airport.
Resistance is Futile
If there is a hole to be filled somewhere, anywhere, Capitalism will be there to try and stuff it full of greed. It doesn't matter what their age. Just like a dishonest mechanic who tampers with your car, if there isn't a problem then for the love of Money hurry up and create one so somebody will pay you to solve it.
Personally, I think that anybody who would design such a product should be charged with Statutory Rape. Or perhaps legally it would be considered Pre-Rape. Almost... I can only assume that they will soon launch a series of Starter Pre-Menstrual Tampons for the 4 to 8 year olds. Maybe they can get the Power Puff Girls to be the spokes-toons for this essential item.
Then there will be the Sponge Bob birth-control sponges for youngling gals. It opens up a whole new market. Embrace the future people. This is the greatest invention since bubble gum cigarettes or toxic waste. It's as good as both of those ideas put together!
Bottom line, it's simply going to make your vagina more fun.
They should make some for the 4th of July and New Years Eve that explode sparkles and confetti when you tug on the string. How patriotic is your vagina? Weeeeeeeee! The Colors!
Still skeptical? This is progress! Be open to it. Yeah, I know the concept seems strange and icky and almost violating, but you have to relax and not fight it. Sure, you may find that you are feeling incredibly uncomfortable with the idea at first and it yes, it might even hurt a bit. But if you resist the notion it's only going to make you feel worse. Now be a good little consumer. Just lay back, stay perfectly still, and let the Greed Machine do what it wants. Remember it's all going to be okay, because Capitalism loves you.
Personally, I think that anybody who would design such a product should be charged with Statutory Rape. Or perhaps legally it would be considered Pre-Rape. Almost... I can only assume that they will soon launch a series of Starter Pre-Menstrual Tampons for the 4 to 8 year olds. Maybe they can get the Power Puff Girls to be the spokes-toons for this essential item.
Then there will be the Sponge Bob birth-control sponges for youngling gals. It opens up a whole new market. Embrace the future people. This is the greatest invention since bubble gum cigarettes or toxic waste. It's as good as both of those ideas put together!
Bottom line, it's simply going to make your vagina more fun.
They should make some for the 4th of July and New Years Eve that explode sparkles and confetti when you tug on the string. How patriotic is your vagina? Weeeeeeeee! The Colors!
Still skeptical? This is progress! Be open to it. Yeah, I know the concept seems strange and icky and almost violating, but you have to relax and not fight it. Sure, you may find that you are feeling incredibly uncomfortable with the idea at first and it yes, it might even hurt a bit. But if you resist the notion it's only going to make you feel worse. Now be a good little consumer. Just lay back, stay perfectly still, and let the Greed Machine do what it wants. Remember it's all going to be okay, because Capitalism loves you.
Sunday, November 20, 2005
It's Hard Being a Girl
It's hard being a girl.
Everyday they are put under intense social pressure. Pressure to wear exactly the right clothes, to make precisely the right friends, to put out just enough to keep the guys on the Varsity Basketball team happy. Somebody decided that Pre-teen girls don't have enough crap to deal. So now they've come up with this.
Did that say they come in "fun flavors?" Red Menace? It's either biting satire or a sign that the end of the world is near.
"Put this in your vagina!"
"Wait... But... why?! You're scaring me."
"It does exactly what its told, it puts the pre-pon in the hole."
Sorry, fo the outburst. It's just stress. I've been feeling a bit pre-pre-menstrual today.
*Thanks go out to Carson for sharing.
Everyday they are put under intense social pressure. Pressure to wear exactly the right clothes, to make precisely the right friends, to put out just enough to keep the guys on the Varsity Basketball team happy. Somebody decided that Pre-teen girls don't have enough crap to deal. So now they've come up with this.
Did that say they come in "fun flavors?" Red Menace? It's either biting satire or a sign that the end of the world is near.
"Put this in your vagina!"
"Wait... But... why?! You're scaring me."
"It does exactly what its told, it puts the pre-pon in the hole."
Sorry, fo the outburst. It's just stress. I've been feeling a bit pre-pre-menstrual today.
*Thanks go out to Carson for sharing.
It got me out of the house. I think that's good.
Ungh. I just got back from a party at my the former residence of my friend Blake and his roommate... um, it's a pseudonym so let's just call him Snagglepuss. They were throwing one last bash at a pad that has seen it's share of parties. Some good, some bad and, on this particular night, 86% ugly. It was what I have heard described as a sausage party. My friend Blake seemed vexed by the fact that all the attractive single women apparently had to stay home and wash their hair tonight.
Fortunately for me I had the sense to invite my friends Giggles, Hammer and his delightful g.f. Carlie to the party so I was assured to have some people to talk to. Although I thank Hammer for graciously putting his mouth in park after inadvertently rambling on for 25 minutes. Oh and don't eat anything called a Margarita cookie.
Perhaps I should have been wary since this apartment is the same place that the infamous and horrible bachelor party experience took place. To be fair there were a hanful of cool chicks in attendance but they were either friends of mine or girlfriends of friends or already spoken for. I promise not to use the word "friends" again in this post. It was as if somebody opened a can of dog food and these are the "women" who caught the scent of the beefy goodness.
It's actually impressive to be able to throw a party in L.A. and not have at least a handful of attractive single women a.k.a. crazy, anorexic actress/waitress types show up by sheer accident.
Their new apartment is supposed to be a nice step up in neighborhood and style. Perhaps that will provide the sexual catnip recipe that these two bachelor boys need to dissuade the woofers and attract the sex kittens.
I stuck around with my friends just having a good chat and drinking the free drinks. My recipe is 1 part ice to 3 parts hard alcohol. As things quickly wound down, there were about 8 people still at the party when Snagglepuss singled me out and said somewhat playfully "Okay, there Kranki, I'm kicking you out." What? Dude, excuse me for sticking it out at your lame ass neurotic 34 year old virgin man convention. I thought I was doing a good dead. It's always nice when you get playfully but seriously thrown out by your "friend" in front of your other friends. It was nearly enough to make me want to take a shit in the crisper*.
Two men in their thirties with good incomes should not be sharing an apartment unless they are gay, junkies, heterosexually co-dependent or man children. I love you Blake, I do. However, you might as well be sharing an apartment with your uptight aunt Erma. This viscous cycle of sterile, bachelor living is just further proof that I should never again share an apartment with any male ever. All my best roommates have been women. Even in a post-apocalyptic future in which I lived with my mom, I'd at least get to enjoy gourmet meals every day. Right up until the moment I finished my curried chicken salad, wiped the sauce from my mouth and slit my wrists** in the bathtub.
* The vegetable bin of a refrigerator. I don't know what you foreigners call things yet.
**Although for the serious suicide-minded individual, it's far more effective to slice into your artery just above the elbow. But don't even consider that until you've maxed out every credit card you could own and visited at least 6 of the seven wonders of the world.
Fortunately for me I had the sense to invite my friends Giggles, Hammer and his delightful g.f. Carlie to the party so I was assured to have some people to talk to. Although I thank Hammer for graciously putting his mouth in park after inadvertently rambling on for 25 minutes. Oh and don't eat anything called a Margarita cookie.
Perhaps I should have been wary since this apartment is the same place that the infamous and horrible bachelor party experience took place. To be fair there were a hanful of cool chicks in attendance but they were either friends of mine or girlfriends of friends or already spoken for. I promise not to use the word "friends" again in this post. It was as if somebody opened a can of dog food and these are the "women" who caught the scent of the beefy goodness.
It's actually impressive to be able to throw a party in L.A. and not have at least a handful of attractive single women a.k.a. crazy, anorexic actress/waitress types show up by sheer accident.
Their new apartment is supposed to be a nice step up in neighborhood and style. Perhaps that will provide the sexual catnip recipe that these two bachelor boys need to dissuade the woofers and attract the sex kittens.
I stuck around with my friends just having a good chat and drinking the free drinks. My recipe is 1 part ice to 3 parts hard alcohol. As things quickly wound down, there were about 8 people still at the party when Snagglepuss singled me out and said somewhat playfully "Okay, there Kranki, I'm kicking you out." What? Dude, excuse me for sticking it out at your lame ass neurotic 34 year old virgin man convention. I thought I was doing a good dead. It's always nice when you get playfully but seriously thrown out by your "friend" in front of your other friends. It was nearly enough to make me want to take a shit in the crisper*.
Two men in their thirties with good incomes should not be sharing an apartment unless they are gay, junkies, heterosexually co-dependent or man children. I love you Blake, I do. However, you might as well be sharing an apartment with your uptight aunt Erma. This viscous cycle of sterile, bachelor living is just further proof that I should never again share an apartment with any male ever. All my best roommates have been women. Even in a post-apocalyptic future in which I lived with my mom, I'd at least get to enjoy gourmet meals every day. Right up until the moment I finished my curried chicken salad, wiped the sauce from my mouth and slit my wrists** in the bathtub.
* The vegetable bin of a refrigerator. I don't know what you foreigners call things yet.
**Although for the serious suicide-minded individual, it's far more effective to slice into your artery just above the elbow. But don't even consider that until you've maxed out every credit card you could own and visited at least 6 of the seven wonders of the world.
Friday, November 18, 2005
Booty Snafu?
There is something electric in the air that says, blog young man, blog like your life depends on it. I am a big fan of words such as blog that can be used as both nouns or verbs.
Like the word "Fuck."
Since we're on the topic of fucking and sex. Must you always have to drag this blog right down into the gutter and duct tape its mouth shut?
So here is my interesting question that I pose to you. Under what unusual circumstances did you or (if you're a shy pussy) somebody you know, lose your virginity or have a horribly awkward dating experience.
I don't have to share mine because A) It's boring and B) I already posted this traumatic moment. for your entertainment.
So let's make with the sexy embarrassy tell-all mcstories people. I showed you mine now show us yours. I'm throwing down on all y'all mutha-fuckas. Top my titillatingly twisted true tale. Bring it, bitch!
Like the word "Fuck."
Since we're on the topic of fucking and sex. Must you always have to drag this blog right down into the gutter and duct tape its mouth shut?
So here is my interesting question that I pose to you. Under what unusual circumstances did you or (if you're a shy pussy) somebody you know, lose your virginity or have a horribly awkward dating experience.
I don't have to share mine because A) It's boring and B) I already posted this traumatic moment. for your entertainment.
So let's make with the sexy embarrassy tell-all mcstories people. I showed you mine now show us yours. I'm throwing down on all y'all mutha-fuckas. Top my titillatingly twisted true tale. Bring it, bitch!
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
A Tattoo Tutorial
As somebody who has no tattoos, I am the perfect person to pass judgment on them and provide expert advice to those seeking tattoo advice.
Here are some tips to avoid getting a tattoo that you might someday regret.
First of all do not get a tattoo that is going to last longer than your relationship.
No amount of club drugs you can take will make it disappear off your arm.
"I'm rollin' pretty hard. Dude get me a water, I'm gonna call and leave another message on Shaina's answering machine."
Don't have your tattoo inked by the new intern at the head shop.
Remember that your body is being displayed as well as the tattoo. It's sad when a once menacing wolf on top of a mountain looks like he's standing on a wobbly hunk of Jello.
If you are a sappy idiot with no writing ability, stick to a nice flaming skull or butterfly. Or perhaps a lovely greeting card.
Consider getting something you might still enjoy after you stop playing Dungeons & Dragons or decide to end your Professional Wrestling career.
"Hey, Ramone, can you ink me a real bad-ass tat? Like um... a skull with a bomb smashin' through his head and, like, the number 13 below that and wait-- also I love my dog, like a lot, and I want to tell the world. So maybe also a awesome-looking fire hydrant that says, like, Dogs Rule or sumthin tight!
"Yo! Dude, it's perfect, thanks man!"
Also, avoid going for something a bit too cute.
"How about something with frogs and flowers?"
Rule of thumb: If it's too adorable to go on a baby bib...
Remember that Tattoos can become addictive.
"Yes, that's right. I was considering getting my doctorate in psychology but then I realized I needed that money to put towards my Hello Kitty tattoo."
Yes, I understand you might like wild animals. I hear that they can actually put images on T-Shirts nowadays.
"Check out that ferret killing a rat. The tattoo guy gave me a discount so that one only cost me 400 dollars. Plus he did the snake's tongue for free."
That's obviously not a tattoo, just a very unique looking birth mark.
"It's not going to bruise my skin at all, is it?"
Ummmm. Why??
Don't use your body to advertise for big business. "Next I'm gonna get me a big Budweiser logo on my thigh."
Don't get tattooed just to impress the ladies.
Darth Vader looks like he's got a lazy eye.
"Shusshh, stay perfectly still, there's a huge spider right above your knee. Oh, fuck, that scares me every time."
Honestly, I think it's great to be passionate about a cause. Something you really believe in that... what was I saying? Anyway, I'll be right back I just got this weird sudden craving for a Wendy's Hamburger.
Great, now all the animals who can read are glad to have your support.
"You remember that long boring scene in Lord of the Rings with the Treant and the Hobbits? Well guess what!?"
I think anybody who sees this next tattoo has probably already got sex on their mind. It just makes your next visit to the gynecologist all the more awkward.
"I was just noticing your tattoo and was wondering if you'd like to accompany me for dinner. Then maybe we could hold hands and split a milkshake afterwards."
"Excuse me? What do you mean you're not attracted to me?
"Well how about now?"
What the fuck is that? Some kind of hairy, eyeless, ant-eater goat-boar penis?!
Look a cute little Mogwai Puffer fish.
"Yeah, I saw the movie Braveheart. It was pretty good."
When you tell the tattoo inker that you want him to draw a huge cock on your left arm it's important to be specific.
Remember it's best to display your tattoo with pride and quiet dignity.
Here are some tattoos that I actually liked.
Here are some tips to avoid getting a tattoo that you might someday regret.
First of all do not get a tattoo that is going to last longer than your relationship.
No amount of club drugs you can take will make it disappear off your arm.
"I'm rollin' pretty hard. Dude get me a water, I'm gonna call and leave another message on Shaina's answering machine."
Don't have your tattoo inked by the new intern at the head shop.
Remember that your body is being displayed as well as the tattoo. It's sad when a once menacing wolf on top of a mountain looks like he's standing on a wobbly hunk of Jello.
If you are a sappy idiot with no writing ability, stick to a nice flaming skull or butterfly. Or perhaps a lovely greeting card.
Consider getting something you might still enjoy after you stop playing Dungeons & Dragons or decide to end your Professional Wrestling career.
"Hey, Ramone, can you ink me a real bad-ass tat? Like um... a skull with a bomb smashin' through his head and, like, the number 13 below that and wait-- also I love my dog, like a lot, and I want to tell the world. So maybe also a awesome-looking fire hydrant that says, like, Dogs Rule or sumthin tight!
"Yo! Dude, it's perfect, thanks man!"
Also, avoid going for something a bit too cute.
"How about something with frogs and flowers?"
Rule of thumb: If it's too adorable to go on a baby bib...
Remember that Tattoos can become addictive.
"Yes, that's right. I was considering getting my doctorate in psychology but then I realized I needed that money to put towards my Hello Kitty tattoo."
Yes, I understand you might like wild animals. I hear that they can actually put images on T-Shirts nowadays.
"Check out that ferret killing a rat. The tattoo guy gave me a discount so that one only cost me 400 dollars. Plus he did the snake's tongue for free."
That's obviously not a tattoo, just a very unique looking birth mark.
"It's not going to bruise my skin at all, is it?"
Ummmm. Why??
Don't use your body to advertise for big business. "Next I'm gonna get me a big Budweiser logo on my thigh."
Don't get tattooed just to impress the ladies.
Darth Vader looks like he's got a lazy eye.
"Shusshh, stay perfectly still, there's a huge spider right above your knee. Oh, fuck, that scares me every time."
Honestly, I think it's great to be passionate about a cause. Something you really believe in that... what was I saying? Anyway, I'll be right back I just got this weird sudden craving for a Wendy's Hamburger.
Great, now all the animals who can read are glad to have your support.
"You remember that long boring scene in Lord of the Rings with the Treant and the Hobbits? Well guess what!?"
I think anybody who sees this next tattoo has probably already got sex on their mind. It just makes your next visit to the gynecologist all the more awkward.
"I was just noticing your tattoo and was wondering if you'd like to accompany me for dinner. Then maybe we could hold hands and split a milkshake afterwards."
"Excuse me? What do you mean you're not attracted to me?
"Well how about now?"
What the fuck is that? Some kind of hairy, eyeless, ant-eater goat-boar penis?!
Look a cute little Mogwai Puffer fish.
"Yeah, I saw the movie Braveheart. It was pretty good."
When you tell the tattoo inker that you want him to draw a huge cock on your left arm it's important to be specific.
Remember it's best to display your tattoo with pride and quiet dignity.
Here are some tattoos that I actually liked.
Kranki Vacation
In just over a week I will be leaving for my Australian excursion to see some of the funniest, dearest, most clever and kind group of friends that I have.
It's hard to imagine that I would never have had a chance of meeting any of these people if I hadn't started writing a blog. I had intended it to be just a nice way to record my absurd thoughts, stories and musings without having to actually organize it in any way.
Then you find out that people, actual people, are reading your writing and getting your warped version of reality and often coming back to read more. So what was just supposed to be some pseudo-literary masturbation on my part became a link to this weird new world.
Shit, I haven't written anything funny or remotely kranki in this post. I've disappointed you just as I anxiously look forward to disappointing some of you in person. You'll be able to spot me as I will be the scrawny guy who looks as if he's been trapped on a plane for over 15 hours straight. I intend to keep myself unconscious, sedated, intoxicated, tranquilized and generally detatched from the conscious world for the duration.
My god! Who will be sitting next to me for all that time? I abhor standing in an elevator with people for anything more than 3 floors. I pray to the unholy spirits of chaos to be merciful on me. Nobody with a pungent perspiration problem, not some woman with 700 pictures of her grandchildren or her cats. Nobody who wants to make it their mission to be my new best friend or to share the story of their life. Not some person with one of those persistent, hacking coughs. Nobody who is wearing far too much perfume or cologne. No droolers, tweakers or talkers and above all please, please no body odor issues. How about a nice well-mannered, young Asian girl who doesn't take up much space, gets up once to use the bathroom the entire flight and is far too shy to engage in anything that remotely resembles a conversation. Hear my humble pagan prayers for me. Come on Fate, I'm counting on you. If you help me out I'll bring you back a fuzzy koala keychain.
P.S. Also No couples into P.D.A and no children under 14.
It's hard to imagine that I would never have had a chance of meeting any of these people if I hadn't started writing a blog. I had intended it to be just a nice way to record my absurd thoughts, stories and musings without having to actually organize it in any way.
Then you find out that people, actual people, are reading your writing and getting your warped version of reality and often coming back to read more. So what was just supposed to be some pseudo-literary masturbation on my part became a link to this weird new world.
Shit, I haven't written anything funny or remotely kranki in this post. I've disappointed you just as I anxiously look forward to disappointing some of you in person. You'll be able to spot me as I will be the scrawny guy who looks as if he's been trapped on a plane for over 15 hours straight. I intend to keep myself unconscious, sedated, intoxicated, tranquilized and generally detatched from the conscious world for the duration.
My god! Who will be sitting next to me for all that time? I abhor standing in an elevator with people for anything more than 3 floors. I pray to the unholy spirits of chaos to be merciful on me. Nobody with a pungent perspiration problem, not some woman with 700 pictures of her grandchildren or her cats. Nobody who wants to make it their mission to be my new best friend or to share the story of their life. Not some person with one of those persistent, hacking coughs. Nobody who is wearing far too much perfume or cologne. No droolers, tweakers or talkers and above all please, please no body odor issues. How about a nice well-mannered, young Asian girl who doesn't take up much space, gets up once to use the bathroom the entire flight and is far too shy to engage in anything that remotely resembles a conversation. Hear my humble pagan prayers for me. Come on Fate, I'm counting on you. If you help me out I'll bring you back a fuzzy koala keychain.
P.S. Also No couples into P.D.A and no children under 14.
Monday, November 14, 2005
"Dude, sweet tattoo."
This photo was taken by my Boudist friend.
No sexuality judgment here. I simply can not believe that anybody would pay money and endure pain to have this put on their back for the rest of their lives. It's going to make it really difficult to get that life guard job down at the Boys and Girls Club. I am racking my brain to think of a worse tattoo. Hm... possibly a tattoo of George Bush skull-fucking my mom. Maybe. Damn, now I'm going to start have those merman rape nightmares again.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Hard Apology to Swallow
This is courtesy of Giggles. It cheered me up on an otherwise cruddy day.
Message From: pers-107081114@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-10-27, 3:27PM CDT-----Original Message-----
Subject: ugh
Brad, It would be difficult for me to be any more miserable right now, I feel like the worst person ever. First, let me start by saying that I am truly truly sorry, and I hate myself for hurting you. Of all the people in the whole entire world, you were honestly the last person that I would ever want to wrong in any way. There is no excuse at all for anything that happened, so I won't even try other than to say all of us had WAY too much to drink, and I did a stupid thing. I can handle you being pissed at me, I absolutely deserve it, I can even handle the ugly words that were exchanged between us, what I can't handle is thinking that you see me as a different person. It is weird, I feel like I just went through a horrible break up or something. The world looked funny yesterday, I couldn't crack a smile if you paid me, there are songs I can't listen to, and I just ! feel beyond crushed. I don't know if you meant everything you said to me, and I am hoping that you didn't. I know that I was wrong on many levels, but I am also hoping that this is something that we can deal with. I know it sounds totally crazy and stupid, but you have come to play such a significant role in my life, I can't imagine my days without you. It is totally strange and weird to say that, and you could say that my behavior didn't reflect that, and you would be correct. I hate feeling like you hate me, and I hate feeling like all of your friends think I am a terrible person, because I am not. I know there is nothing I can say or do to take back what happened, but I just want you to know that fighting with you was just about the worst thing I could have ever imagined. It was right up there with one of the ugliest nights of my life, and I would give anything in the world to rewind and fix it. I am not sure if you will respond to this, part of me thinks that you won't. If not today, then maybe some other time. Also, thanks for getting my stuff together, although I think my sunglasses are still at your house, if you could keep your eyes peeled for them that would be great. I can't even focus or work today, I can't eat, I seriously feel like it was an ugly break up, and I am hoping against hopes that it was not that and you are not done with me. Please don't cut me off, I really don't think I can handle that. I am so sorry.
Elizabeth
The Reply: -----Original Message----- Sent:
Monday, October 24, 2005 12:02 PM
Subject: Re: Ugh....enjoy.
Dear Elizabeth, Thank you for your concern. I'll be sure to file it away under "L" for "Long-winded diatribes from drunken whores I couldn't care less about". You did a stupid thing huh? No...doing long division and forgetting to carry the one is "a stupid thing"; Mixing in a red sock with a load of whites is "a stupid thing"; Blowing some guy in a bathroom for 45 minutes while I sit at the bar wondering if you're taking so long because you ate too much bran that morning isn't as much a "Stupid thing" as it is grounds for permanent removal from my social calendar. To be honest, I'm not sure if it was more amusing that you went and degraded yourself in a public toilet not once but twice in a 2 hour span, or that you seemed to think that by saying "Well, I didn't Fuck him" somehow gave you a clean slate. So forgive me if I couldn't care less if the world "looked funny" to you yesterday. Since your world revolves around blow dryers, golden retrievers, Prada Bags and Jelly Beans, I'm sure it must have been most unsettling to actually have to consider someone else's feelings for 24 hours straight. The good news for you is that my friends don't think you're a terrible person, they just think you're the average run of the mill cum-guzzling blond who commands about as much respect as your average child porn collector. I could be wrong but, it's pretty hard to respect some B&T chick who comes out to spend the night at my place even though she's seeing someone else in New jersey and winds up tongue-bathing the taint of anyone who decides 30 minutes of droning commentary on Colin Farrell's new haircut is worth putting up with for a hand job in the men's room. The good thing about being a guy is that when I eventually bump into the young lad who finger-blasted you on top of a towel dispenser last saturday, we'll have a shot and laugh our heads off about the time it happened. By the way, for the amount of time you claim to spend in spin class you really must be doing something wrong to sport the thunder thighs you do. Watching you parade around my bedroom in a thong was a little like watching sea lions mate. Thought you might like to know.
PS. I BCC'd about 100 people on this email.
Talk to you never, Brad
At least nothing harsh was said and no feelings were hurt. I see a bright future for Brad and Elizabitch.
Message From: pers-107081114@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-10-27, 3:27PM CDT-----Original Message-----
Subject: ugh
Brad, It would be difficult for me to be any more miserable right now, I feel like the worst person ever. First, let me start by saying that I am truly truly sorry, and I hate myself for hurting you. Of all the people in the whole entire world, you were honestly the last person that I would ever want to wrong in any way. There is no excuse at all for anything that happened, so I won't even try other than to say all of us had WAY too much to drink, and I did a stupid thing. I can handle you being pissed at me, I absolutely deserve it, I can even handle the ugly words that were exchanged between us, what I can't handle is thinking that you see me as a different person. It is weird, I feel like I just went through a horrible break up or something. The world looked funny yesterday, I couldn't crack a smile if you paid me, there are songs I can't listen to, and I just ! feel beyond crushed. I don't know if you meant everything you said to me, and I am hoping that you didn't. I know that I was wrong on many levels, but I am also hoping that this is something that we can deal with. I know it sounds totally crazy and stupid, but you have come to play such a significant role in my life, I can't imagine my days without you. It is totally strange and weird to say that, and you could say that my behavior didn't reflect that, and you would be correct. I hate feeling like you hate me, and I hate feeling like all of your friends think I am a terrible person, because I am not. I know there is nothing I can say or do to take back what happened, but I just want you to know that fighting with you was just about the worst thing I could have ever imagined. It was right up there with one of the ugliest nights of my life, and I would give anything in the world to rewind and fix it. I am not sure if you will respond to this, part of me thinks that you won't. If not today, then maybe some other time. Also, thanks for getting my stuff together, although I think my sunglasses are still at your house, if you could keep your eyes peeled for them that would be great. I can't even focus or work today, I can't eat, I seriously feel like it was an ugly break up, and I am hoping against hopes that it was not that and you are not done with me. Please don't cut me off, I really don't think I can handle that. I am so sorry.
Elizabeth
The Reply: -----Original Message----- Sent:
Monday, October 24, 2005 12:02 PM
Subject: Re: Ugh....enjoy.
Dear Elizabeth, Thank you for your concern. I'll be sure to file it away under "L" for "Long-winded diatribes from drunken whores I couldn't care less about". You did a stupid thing huh? No...doing long division and forgetting to carry the one is "a stupid thing"; Mixing in a red sock with a load of whites is "a stupid thing"; Blowing some guy in a bathroom for 45 minutes while I sit at the bar wondering if you're taking so long because you ate too much bran that morning isn't as much a "Stupid thing" as it is grounds for permanent removal from my social calendar. To be honest, I'm not sure if it was more amusing that you went and degraded yourself in a public toilet not once but twice in a 2 hour span, or that you seemed to think that by saying "Well, I didn't Fuck him" somehow gave you a clean slate. So forgive me if I couldn't care less if the world "looked funny" to you yesterday. Since your world revolves around blow dryers, golden retrievers, Prada Bags and Jelly Beans, I'm sure it must have been most unsettling to actually have to consider someone else's feelings for 24 hours straight. The good news for you is that my friends don't think you're a terrible person, they just think you're the average run of the mill cum-guzzling blond who commands about as much respect as your average child porn collector. I could be wrong but, it's pretty hard to respect some B&T chick who comes out to spend the night at my place even though she's seeing someone else in New jersey and winds up tongue-bathing the taint of anyone who decides 30 minutes of droning commentary on Colin Farrell's new haircut is worth putting up with for a hand job in the men's room. The good thing about being a guy is that when I eventually bump into the young lad who finger-blasted you on top of a towel dispenser last saturday, we'll have a shot and laugh our heads off about the time it happened. By the way, for the amount of time you claim to spend in spin class you really must be doing something wrong to sport the thunder thighs you do. Watching you parade around my bedroom in a thong was a little like watching sea lions mate. Thought you might like to know.
PS. I BCC'd about 100 people on this email.
Talk to you never, Brad
At least nothing harsh was said and no feelings were hurt. I see a bright future for Brad and Elizabitch.
Friday, November 11, 2005
Secret Agent Dog
His codename is 8ball.
He moves with pitter-patter stealth, virtually invisible at night.
He uses his puppy dog eyes as a deadly weapon.
In my previous post I told you about a Randsom note that I received.
I have mused about my puzzling situation and have come to only one logical conclusion. Clearly the villians want this dog. I assume that perhaps his previous master was eliminated by enemy agents but he was clever enough to feed the micro chip with the vital and secret information to this little dog. How the dog knew to find me I don't know. Perhaps it was just luck. All I know, is that now, after I foolishly sent out an email with the dog's picture (to get him adopted) the enemy agents know I have the pooch and they need him back. It would also explain why our secret agent dog sets off metal detectors. At great personal expense I had the dog fitted with the red explosive collar. I truly hope I am not forced to detonate the collar. But the little dog knew the risks when he signed on to be a secret agent. Currently both the dog and I are expertly disguised with large blonde mustaches and aviator glasses so nobody will be able to recognize us.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
This time EVIL runs in a pack.
Fluffy put it best when she wrote 'Puppies for sale... Oh, the humanity!'
Sweet Lucifer's Flaming Banjo! What horror hath man unleashed?
If I wanted a porcelain paperweight of a dachshund puppy dressed as a prostitute I'd.... well, if I did, I hope some friend would have the decency to kill me. It should be a quick yet brutal murder to help serve as an example for others. It took a second glance to see that these things are supposed to be actual living pets, not refrigerator magnets.
I especially love that they show the puppies in natural poses, such as standing atop a leather bound book and wearing a referee outfit. Why didn't they have one with a puppy snorkeling or perhaps two puppies ballroom dancing? They could name them Fred and Ginger and the charming duo could dance their way into their new owner's heart right after making a quick stop to tap dance all the money out of her "World's Greatest Grandma" embroidered purse.
Does it cost extra to have them glazed so they will never get dirty or smudged?
I'm going to ask if mine can come wearing a sailor suit with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
And We All Float On...
Yeah, that score looks about right. I'll retake the Life Quiz in a Month and see how I'm doing.
I wonder if they make Ecstacy in a long-lasting, continuous IV drip form.
Go ahead, rate your life. If it's lower than mine I will buy you a drink.
And we can make a toast. "To alcohol! The cause of, and solution to all of life's problems."*
* That was either Socrates or Homer Simpson.
I wonder if they make Ecstacy in a long-lasting, continuous IV drip form.
| This Is My Life, Rated | |
| Life: |  5.2 |
| Mind: | 5.4 |
| Body: |  7.1 |
| Spirit: | 5 |
| Friends/Family: |  4.6 |
| Love: |  1.4 |
| Finance: |  3.5 |
| Take the Rate My Life Quiz | |
Go ahead, rate your life. If it's lower than mine I will buy you a drink.
And we can make a toast. "To alcohol! The cause of, and solution to all of life's problems."*
* That was either Socrates or Homer Simpson.
Monday, November 07, 2005
2-4-6-8 - Bathroom time is really great!
Women alaways go off to the bathroom together, so what's the big deal?
They were just trying to keep morale up. I believe that's their job.
As both a sports fan, and a supporter of womens rights, I find the actions against these women to be excessive and positively un-European.
Cheerleaders promoting sex. What is this world coming to?
They were just trying to keep morale up. I believe that's their job.
As both a sports fan, and a supporter of womens rights, I find the actions against these women to be excessive and positively un-European.
Cheerleaders promoting sex. What is this world coming to?
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Triple-Tagged
I have been Tagged. Not once, but thrice. Bevis, Surlyboy and now Gun street girl. It's like a loving pinch of attention. I'm getting more action than a short-skirted tourist in Italy.
My new adoptive Australian big sister was kind enough to put my name on the tag.
Well I'm not sure what you're expecting to get from an emotionally wounded Krankiboy but here you are.
I have been Tagged. This means I must share 20 things about myself and then tag five other people. I'm a team player.
1) The other day while talking to a friend on my cell phone I panicked that I had misplaced my cell phone and told my friend to "hold on a sec I think I lost my cell phone. I have had a lot a lot of shit on my mind but that's still pretty brain dead under any circumstances.
2) I was the kid who was told not to trip because my shoelaces were untied and ignored the advice and then tripped on my laces and broke my nose on a flight of marble steps.
3) I have written a kids book about animals that may actually get published.
4) I went on my very first date at age 9 and my second date at age 17.
5) In elementary school I was known as the bully-killer due to my ability to fight with hyper-active ferocity.
6) Despite my "quirks" I am a very nurturing person who loves animals, kids and plants.
7) I have no patience to learn how to play an instrument but I truly wish that I could learn to play guitar.
8) Nearly every woman I have broken up with has almost immediately put on 15-20 lbs. Be warned you strumpets.
9) I can't swim. Will you please teach me?
10) My parents were never married which makes me a genuine "bastard"
11) I get cravings for healthy food like some people crave junk food.
12) I think that 20 things are too many things to list and that people will surely grow bored of reading somewhere in the teens unless there is something sexy or disturbing made up and thrown in to hold their interest.
13) I used to have a drug dealer who I got stuff from but then he died. We think it was probably from taking too many drugs.
14) I know the man who holds the record for being the World's Fastest Backwards Talker. It's really freaking impressive! Ti rof drow ym ekat retteb srekcuf- rehtom.
15) The investigators on the case never found enough of the body to prove it was me that killed that pregnant Hooker in Nashville. She totally started it.
16) My favorite TV shows when I was a kid were the A-Team, The Dukes of Hazzard, The Incredible Hulk, Threes Company, Monty Python, The Fall Guy, and The Smurfs.
17) I have a nasty fear of heights and if you intentionally try to scare me with a fake push or if you get to close to the edge. I will become nervous, punch you in the arm, and it will hurt.
18) I dearly love my grandmother but I once spit on her because she did not let me put the coins into the automatic toll booth basket. 27 was a tough age for me.
19) My greatest goal in life is to be an exceptional father and raise happy kids.
20) Lastly, I think I may have died at sea in a past life.
So I reluctantly tag Sherriff, because anybody who posts a picture of their cock on their blog probably doesn't mind sharing personal info. I tag Anna A Spades, because when she turns 18 she and I are going to get married so I can get Australian citizenship. Shhhhhssh. Oh and also we're very, very, very, much in love. Quirkie gets my tag because she usually has something pithy to say. Tuppence, because of that amazing night we spent in Buenos Aries. I still have the burn from the candle wax. And I tag Magical_M. You're all it! No tag backs.
Friday, November 04, 2005
A Kranki Oasis
She's real damn it!
The Krankiboy KhroniclesRecent Visitors by Location
Detail
Country
Location
#81
Saudi Arabia Riyadh, Ar Riyad
Can I just say I think it's cool that somebody in Saudia Arabia is a regular reader of my blog. I hope it's a wealthy princess who has been taugh 625 secret sensual methods to make a man climax. Hell, I'm not demanding. I'd even settle for an heiress who knew just 408 ways. Actually just some lovely lady who could buy me dinner and then order me to massage her silken igloo would be fine. But it's probably not a Saudi princess. It's more likely to be some brawny, eunic guard with a sharp and massive scimitar. Kinda like the dude from that Bugs Bunny cartoon. Remember the one where Bugs and Daffy get lost on the way to Pismo Beach and find the Sultan's Treasure? Good times. Bugs, Daffy and I had some good times.
I am off to Australia at the end of November and I am as excited as I am poor. However I have always relied on the kindness of talented and sexy bloggers. Thanks sexy bloggers. This orphan is thankful that you will be giving me a roof. I'd have settled for just a rufie to kill the pain, but you have to keep the fans happy*. God damn world tours.
This hemisphere can kiss my grits.
*intentional pomposity for reverse self-depricating effect.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
God Bless this Mess
Sorry to be the glass-is-half-empty guy but it's really starting to look like the Apocalypse is fast approaching. Judgment Day may soon be upon us.
Now I should mention that under normal circumstances I am in no way a religious man. Here are some of my reasons:
I don’t believe in God or Allah or Buddha or Jesus, or Mortimer the stuffed Hedgehog of Supreme Divinity.
I don’t like the idea of any temple or church that grew rich on the backs of its poor followers by scaring them into obedience. It’s Afterlife Peer Pressure. “Do you want your flesh to forever burn in Hell or do you want to fly around the clouds with wings and a cool gold harp?
I am not big on following rules written thousands of years ago to make my life incredibly inconvenient. There are enough fucking rules in life already. I do however enjoy getting the occasional Jewish Holiday off. Thank you Jews.
Religion and religious conflicts are responsible for more wars and death and conflicts than anything on earth with the possible exception of disease. “What?! They have Different Ideas?! That’s evil, kill them all!”
I much prefer how Science uses observable facts to draw conclusions instead of an old fable about Adam, Eve, a snake, and an apple.
Last Weekend the Baby Jesus and I went out drinking and he got completely wasted and drunkenly admitted to me that IT was all a big scam. He then apologized, quickly paid the bill and took off with that skanky waitress.
Anytime I have put my faith in someone or something important I’ve been disappointed.
I don’t think that talking to a pedophile in a dark, little, booth should somehow wash away your sins.
Okay, now despite all these reasons I still look around at the world right now and I can’t believe what is going on. Is the End of the World approaching? Pardon the pun but Armageddon very concerned with what’s happening.
In just the past few years there has been a giant tsunami that took out well over a quarter of a million people. Terrorist attacks have occurred all over the globe. There’s been a sharp rise in the number of suicide bomber jobs. Rampant genocide continues in many parts of Africa. A record number of massive hurricanes have battered the United States. An imbecile is the Commander in Chief of the free world. The United States has started a pointless and endless war with another country and the world at large hates us for it. And most recently Earthquakes have claimed thousands of lives.
As for me personally… I’ve seen both of my promising career paths sputter into stagnant pools of dried drool and my once very happy marriage recently crumbled to dust faster than you can say selfish cunt.
People wake up! The Earth is mad at us. Mother Nature is PMS-ing and she’s riding that rag hard. If there is a God Our Father entity then he clearly has the attitude of a bratty child holding a magnifying glass over a cluster of helpless ants.
My best advice is to grab hold of the nearest religion you can find and start humping its leg like there’s no tomorrow. If that doesn’t pan out for you then please save me a good seat next to either the fiery brimstone or the pit of eternal damnation.
Now I should mention that under normal circumstances I am in no way a religious man. Here are some of my reasons:
I don’t believe in God or Allah or Buddha or Jesus, or Mortimer the stuffed Hedgehog of Supreme Divinity.
I don’t like the idea of any temple or church that grew rich on the backs of its poor followers by scaring them into obedience. It’s Afterlife Peer Pressure. “Do you want your flesh to forever burn in Hell or do you want to fly around the clouds with wings and a cool gold harp?
I am not big on following rules written thousands of years ago to make my life incredibly inconvenient. There are enough fucking rules in life already. I do however enjoy getting the occasional Jewish Holiday off. Thank you Jews.
Religion and religious conflicts are responsible for more wars and death and conflicts than anything on earth with the possible exception of disease. “What?! They have Different Ideas?! That’s evil, kill them all!”
I much prefer how Science uses observable facts to draw conclusions instead of an old fable about Adam, Eve, a snake, and an apple.
Last Weekend the Baby Jesus and I went out drinking and he got completely wasted and drunkenly admitted to me that IT was all a big scam. He then apologized, quickly paid the bill and took off with that skanky waitress.
Anytime I have put my faith in someone or something important I’ve been disappointed.
I don’t think that talking to a pedophile in a dark, little, booth should somehow wash away your sins.
Okay, now despite all these reasons I still look around at the world right now and I can’t believe what is going on. Is the End of the World approaching? Pardon the pun but Armageddon very concerned with what’s happening.
In just the past few years there has been a giant tsunami that took out well over a quarter of a million people. Terrorist attacks have occurred all over the globe. There’s been a sharp rise in the number of suicide bomber jobs. Rampant genocide continues in many parts of Africa. A record number of massive hurricanes have battered the United States. An imbecile is the Commander in Chief of the free world. The United States has started a pointless and endless war with another country and the world at large hates us for it. And most recently Earthquakes have claimed thousands of lives.
As for me personally… I’ve seen both of my promising career paths sputter into stagnant pools of dried drool and my once very happy marriage recently crumbled to dust faster than you can say selfish cunt.
People wake up! The Earth is mad at us. Mother Nature is PMS-ing and she’s riding that rag hard. If there is a God Our Father entity then he clearly has the attitude of a bratty child holding a magnifying glass over a cluster of helpless ants.
My best advice is to grab hold of the nearest religion you can find and start humping its leg like there’s no tomorrow. If that doesn’t pan out for you then please save me a good seat next to either the fiery brimstone or the pit of eternal damnation.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Whatever you do... DON'T name it.
It's starting to look less likely that I got the teaching job that I wanted very badly. I even put on my fancy suit and put product in my hair and spoke articulately and passionately and thoughtfully and I limited myself to one swear word per sentence. Perhaps I'll start a new life. Ideally it would be in a galaxy far, far away. It's all just too much to think about.
With Penny hitting me in the back of the head with a shovel it's been hard to get my mind clear enough to make any decisions.
What do I do with this little black Chihuahua pup that my dogs found hiding behind the recycle bins? He's here and he's offering me 6lbs and 2 ounces of unconditional love but 3 dogs without a yard for them to romp in is difficult and my dogs get a bit jealous and depressed if they don't get enough attention. It's easy to juggle two balls but three takes some effort. I'm leaning towards giving him away but right now I need all the friends I can find. I really want to give him away if it's a friend or somebody where I can visit him. He's a cool little dude, good personality, likes to cuddle. I think I made the crucial mistake of naming him. You'd think I would've learned my lesson about forming attachments but I still went ahead and named him 8-ball.
I know exactly just how he feels.
He's adjusting fairly well considering the recent traumatic experience of being abandoned by the people he loves and becoming lost in a big strange world.
Fortunately little 8-ball is adapting to his new situation even better than I am.
With Penny hitting me in the back of the head with a shovel it's been hard to get my mind clear enough to make any decisions.
What do I do with this little black Chihuahua pup that my dogs found hiding behind the recycle bins? He's here and he's offering me 6lbs and 2 ounces of unconditional love but 3 dogs without a yard for them to romp in is difficult and my dogs get a bit jealous and depressed if they don't get enough attention. It's easy to juggle two balls but three takes some effort. I'm leaning towards giving him away but right now I need all the friends I can find. I really want to give him away if it's a friend or somebody where I can visit him. He's a cool little dude, good personality, likes to cuddle. I think I made the crucial mistake of naming him. You'd think I would've learned my lesson about forming attachments but I still went ahead and named him 8-ball.
I know exactly just how he feels.
He's adjusting fairly well considering the recent traumatic experience of being abandoned by the people he loves and becoming lost in a big strange world.
Fortunately little 8-ball is adapting to his new situation even better than I am.
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