Karaoke and The Pursuit of Happiness

So my b-day is coming up. Yee-mutha-effin-haw! Don't ask me how old I'll be or I will stick you in a big microwave and cook you 10 seconds at a time until you're all dried up like Janet Reno's clam. Eww...I just grossed myself out.

At my party, we're going to be enjoying the fun times provided by Karaoke Revolution. I mean, we all know how disturbing drunken karaoke is at the bar. This will be so much better...we're all friends and even the shitty singers will be much enjoyed...because I'm sure their drunken cat-screams will be drowned out by laughter. Wow...I can't wait!!!

Courtesy of Eddie Izzard: "You pursue happiness...C'mon you fucking happiness...bang...I found me some happiness. I'm gonna shoot it now...bang...You fucking happiness...bang...you come with me with those big fucking eyes...bang..."

Hmmm...we are doomed.

Stained Teeth

Used up, chewed up, spit out, and stomped out.
Laid under newspaper to hide from sight and from the cold.
I stare at the headlines I'm buried under tonight
Not reading the words 'cuz I know that they only spell, "Fuck you too!"

I can't see the red of the blood on your hands
I can't see the blue of my breath that you choked out
I can't see the light of the days that you've stolen
I can't see the stain of your teeth from the meal that you made of my heart.

Okay...I'm done venting for now. Its amazingly therapeutic. Not very good for songwriting...these short outbursts of emotion. Perhaps I can go back one day and start combining these little snipits of verse and make one gut-wrenching, heartbreaking, head-splitting, soul-touching song that can be ultimate reference point for pain. Then everything else that doesn't hurt that much, I can dismiss...like comparing a paper-cut to the guillotine.

So I'm done being all dark and dismal...or as some say, "dramatic"...
Fun to follow later.

I Don't Have An Alien-Shaped Head

So I shaved my head a week ago...its not the first time. I can pull it off. But this is the first time I was told that I didn't have an alien-shaped head. I would think that even a full head of hair would have a hard time concealing an alien-shaped head. So it came as no surprise to me that I did not have one. It came as a surprise that this person felt it necessary to point it out.

I am sexy enough for a gay man. The girl I went to the club with said that the bartender, as well as one of the guys in her group of friends (which she used the descriptive term of "hot" for both), were hitting on me. I have a hard time telling when chicks are hitting on me, so it comes to no surprise that I didn't see it. But I've been told I'm sexy enough for hot gay men. Yee-mutha-fukin-haw!