josh is stupid and boring and self-centered and stupid and has crabs

I'm slowly realizing why bloggers are so big on pop culture. The pratfalls of celebrity self-destruction provide a truly endless source of laughable, easily recognizable vignettes about which to write on a daily basis. My life is nowhere near as engaging, and I'm not big on the publishing of mundanity, even if it is only in cyberspace. I'm sorry, but the time it takes me to type out my uber-boring daily routine is just better spent writing songs and catching up on my reading.

Wow, I read that back and realize how positively the decreased intake of drugs has effected my vocabulary. I may not know as many words now as I did when I took the SATs (800 verbal bitch. yeah, that's my brag for today), but I've certainly moved forward since last semester. Let's just hope I can stick with it... at least until tomorrow.

(no typo in the title, read more Vonnegut)

Comcast On-Demand is the hottest thing to happen to television since the remote control. We were sitting around last night watching all of these music videos which they have in their library but never seem to see the light of day, even on MTV2/Fuse/etc. I didn't even know that Kid Koala had the money to make videos until last night ("Carpal Tunnel Syndrome" actually makes sense when accompanied with a video).

There is amazing other shit that you can do with On-Demand too. Of course it offers concerts and movies and shit like that, but there are also guitar lessons, weather reports, and all sorts of other unnecessary digital tidbits to improve the life of the upper-middle class sububurbanite (which is so desperately in need of improvement).

Along with tagless undershirts and that zipper-like device that they put on saran wrap boxes to make cutting sheets off easier, On-Demand is definitely on my list of inventions which have made this century better than the last.

One of the things I like most about blogs is that people feel more liberated to express themselves than they otherwise might. Cyberspace lends itself to that. Screennames, chat rooms, discussion forums; all designed to allow the potentially anonymous voicing of whatever the user feels. The catch with this blog (assuming that anyone reads this aside from random click-throughs from Blogger) is that I have a pretty good idea of who you are.

The following I know...

1.) You are on thefacebook and have recently check out my profile. I know this because that is the only place where I have made known the existence of this blog.
2.) When you are excessively bored/antsy/procrastinative you spend your time screwing around on your computer (like me).
3.) You blog (read or write, either way).

So assuming you're not some facebook stalker (and that's cool if you are, everyone does it), I can narrow the field to about a dozen potential viewers (artsy friends ≠ computer people). To those people I say this:

Why don't we just sit down for a cup of coffee every once in a while?

Brooklyn's ok, I guess. It has the reputation it does for a reason. It just feels like everyone is overly concerned with their own hipness. I'm growing to love being halfway between that and the shamelessness of the village.

can i just say "good for paris?" i'm jealous of her and so are you.

I was recently asked how i got to the nye party that i attended (during the latter half of the evening)...


1. me --> 2. invite from my friend Jess to a house party in BK on Jay St. later tells me she was in a subway station with a dead cell. --> 3. wander around brooklyn for half an hour waiting for her, eventually decide that I'll just find the party. --> 4. do so... only to be greated enthusiastically by some blond who i was sure knew me. i lacked her conviction, but regardless... --> 5. at party happen to meet the upstairs roomate of the host of said party (whom i spoke to while he was spinning without knowing he was the host). --> 6. invited to party at which we met (the host was naked when i left... i never caught his name)

New blog! If I'm bored enough to write this, there are probably people out there who are bored enough to read it, so why not?

Anyway, I will neither make nor keep any promises from this point forward excepting that I swear I will never post any retarded pictures of my pet(s) that I happen to find cute/entertaining/arousing. I'll leave that shit to the 12 year old girls and 26 year old hipsters who have the maturity level of 12 year old girls. Also, I promise a steady stream of profanity-leaden, not as hilarious as I find them, drunk/stoned/exhausted 4am posts refering in graphic detail to how I failed to get any that evening. Now there's something for the kids.

Furthermore, I declare, and so it shall be typed, to all the people who know me that anything you say can and will be used against in the court of my blog. So watch your fuckin' mouths.






It strikes me that perhaps the first widely popular blogger was Maddox @ xmission. If you are unfamiliar with Maddox, simply google "best page in the universe." You will find it amply more amusing than my shit (though in a much more crass sort of way).