Tag Archives: facebook

the author will always be only almost good enough

…that’s alot of fuckin’ words, man.

thats it.

It’s like a facebook status post or whatever… but that’s the only increment that my brain has the capacity to think in.

i just thought that i’d make a note of it.

peace.  two fingers


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I don’t get it.

I don’t.

So, like… there’s (before the interweb-social-network-fuck) the concept and follow-through of creating a website for a your specific purpose. You’d have to learn HTML or have a crappy 2 dimensional website that gets lost in the mire or both. Or in the pre-latter years, a crudely functioning WYSIWYG-type interface. So, it’s easier. Whatever.

…still. One really needed to create said site. It was a whole new skill set to learn; to dedicate yourself to.

You have a ‘thing’… you want to create a website around said thing.

To jump or not to jump?

This used to be a question.

Not anymore.

Its just too easy now.

I’m not saying anything about anything. I mean, I have this blllll-ahhhh-g that’s monetarily free (sans domain name) on this widely used, weak blogging bullshit alternative to the sell-out ‘blogger’-blog (doggy-dogg… ha!) client. Like it’s okay that way.

I recognize my hypocrisy.

I’m just sayin’.

What the fuck is Twitter?

Alright. There’s creating a webpage… whatever. Then blogs/vlogs and/or social-networking arises… as does the nausea.

There’s MySpace…. for the obese tragic fourteen year old that hangs them self due to teasing from some supposed suburban boy, boy’s mother, neighbour, something… that she thought her boyfriend. He wrote really nice things, after all. And she was infatuated by words on a screen.

You know, instead of finding an exercise plan or, at the very least, eating disorder to soften the blow of existence.

“Way harsh, Ty”

Apologies. Really. I know, 14, 15… it’s hard… seriously…

…but virtual infatuation trumps actual disintegration in the land of denial and low self esteem…. apparently.

lazy. baby.

right here right now. now-now.

and more. and now and now and now.

Okay, and now: Facebook and MySpace is enough. Do we really need Twitter?

I mean, really?

Twitter is the electronic equivalent to the ADHD drugs (speed aka amphetamine salts… a younger, softer brother to the cracked ‘bennies’ used in the factory in the sixties… among other places… and among other analogues of amphetamine) that we readily dole out to our 6 year olds.

I mean, really?

Facebook… MySpace… kind of okay. But Twitter is every second… Twitter has people “follow” people and like-wise people “follow” you.

“I am a stalker…. Yay!”

Can no one just sit in silence for a second?

Again, being a non-meth-using-meth-addict (out of the woods for a staggering year and a half… I mean, if you can dig that)… I recognize the hypocrisy that runs through my veins.

Maybe I just don’t get it. But fuck it.

Like the short-attention-span drugs for developing brains are bad enough. Worse, maybe. But maybe not.

Because, maybe ‘human problem solving’ has reached a place where, although the aforementioned ADHD drugs are ‘prescribed’ by a ‘doctor’… through laconic desperation and the quick-fix of the American-Way the majority of parents actually recognize that the pills they administer their children are amphetamine; the Schedule II drug that they are.

And following this back-of-head recognition, they realize that they are making a choice. They realize that they can give their child speed or not.

I mean, this is all covered in a Myelin Sheath (some call it denial) of ‘medical prescription’.

But, I’d think, for the most part, there is a part of people that actually understand… because ‘medical prescription’ can only go so far as time stretches an epidemic of sorts.

Invidiously, it’s a drug. A controlled substance, at that. And invidiously you choose to or choose not to give it to your child… knowing exactly what it is. Whether it’s sanctioned by the FDA or DSM or APA or NSA…

And that’s the thing: one can update their status on Facebook. One can update their status on Facebook every hour, every minute, every second. One can be a Facebook WHORE! But you’re a whore in a larger sea of things that are going on.

People don’t have Twitter pages. They just have their crack-whore updates.

Again, I may not really ‘get’ Twitter… but it seems like crack.

…that homeless black people smoke out of pipes in the alleyways of New York in the eighties.

And So (because I can only understand things in stimulant drug metaphors):

A created website = Methamphetamine or one of it’s long-acting brethren

Facebook/MySpace = Adderall or Ritalin or the latest dirty speed pill for kids

Twitter = Crack; homeless, urine-smelling, rock-buying crack-addict-crack

But the thing is that, it’s too soon for the public to recognize this fact. Delineate. It’s all the same. It’s nihilism.

But just like the prescription speed epidemic… people will sense it in the back of their heads in a year or so and, only then, be responsible for their Twitter updates.



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25 Things About


[the director’s cut… but then again, everything on 23rd street is the director’s cut]

25 random idiosyncratic things about me “that you don’t know” but mostly never asked to know and therefore pretty much have no vested interest in knowing.

but… I want to play the game.

Games are fun. 😉


1. My hair is such a physically binding assurance in my existence. This doesn’t mean that I’m so dependent on having hair. Just anything that has to do with my hair at any given time, is a reflection of how I actually am… at said time.

2. I’m drunk.

3. I love needles and veins. I love that my blood is darker than most. It makes me feel more substantial. But I’m not into the whole vampire/cult/retarded fanboy thing… categorically. Goth, Emo… whatever… they can party with Christianity and Jesus because they are all the same. I mean, I’m all about people doing what they want, it’s just not my thing.

4. I am very selective about what transverses my brain, stomach, heart.

  • Not all drugs are drugs to me… not every high is one I want to partake in. I mean, I love drugs [but that’s another story].
  • I feel my brain atrophy as I read and/or view categorically brain-rotting material. So, I limit myself… almost a bit too much.
  • Oranges are safe. As is Diet Raspberry and/or Peach Snapple Iced Tea.

5. Oh, you Vegans. Rogue-ish cads, you. I like sushi… shucked oysters, sea urchin… I like Darwin and that whole survival of the fittest-thing that’s so popular with the kids. You know, science. As a child, shark fin had this rolly peculiar tough crunch on my teeth. Health is important, and my diet could be categorized as a seafaring vegetarian alcoholic… but I’m not ‘saving the animals’ by not eating them. And neither are you.

6. The lowest weight I’ve ever reached was 77 lbs., honestly. It doesn’t seem very low.  I weighed myself when I woke up. I’m sure, by the end of that day, I was 1 or 2 lbs lighter. But, for categorical purposes, I can only be sure of 77. Not very low.

7. I’m still drunk.

8. I don’t have 25 things… I’m not that interesting and/or self-absorbed. Wait, that’s a lie… I don’t have 25 things, but I am that interesting and self-absorbed… or maybe just that self-absorbed. Interesting is… your call.

9. Oh, knowledge is power. The more information you have, the more proficient you are at reading people, the better you can catch was is being thrown at you and digest it… the more power you yield. I love power!

10. I want meth. I’ll settle for dexedrine spanules… in all their time-released anti-glory. And it’s actually okay… if I never do meth again, I think. I just decided. The chemical makeup of dexedrine works. It does something that only meth could ever do… just… I don’t get ‘high’.  And, thus, I would, in a heartbeat, take any meth offered me. Make no mistake. I LOVE METHAMPHETAMINE and it’s brothers, sisters and first cousins… especially 4-methylaminorex.

11. I love arugula and grape tomatoes. and sour things… like lemon juice.

12. If I die… I’m dead. Whatever happens after that, is not my problem.

13. I don’t know… I mean, seriously, people have 25 things?


Oh here we go:

14. I don’t understand that I’m not invincible. I still haven’t gotten it.


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