Hey guys. I realize that this blog is really old, but hey, I started a podcast. So come on over and listen to it. I'd love to hear what you think. I hope they get better as I become more practiced, but in the mean time, you don't have to be nice.
Thanks for listening.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Sunday, September 14, 2008
There is nothing fun about "Fun Size" candy bars, fuckers. In fact, anything you can think of possibly doing with a candy bar that might be considered "fun" is less fun with "Fun Size". Yeah that's right. Take it there.
That's marketing for you though, innit? It doesn't matter how stupid or improbably a thing is, if they say it enough times, either we'll start to believe it, or and the very least, we'll not question it. They also think that if they play non-threatening music and speak in a soft voice, we'll never realize they;re saying horrible shit.
I saw a commercial for asthma medication, and during the health risk disclosures (some of the most hilarious material on TV, by the way), it said, "May cause asthma related death". I wouldn't lie to you, fat tits. An asthma medication... where a "side effect" included "asthma related death". But it's cool though, because while they said that, they were showing butterflies, playing a Nick Drake song, and it was voiced by a soft spoken chick with a sexy British accent.... so don't worry about it, ok?
Know what else they do? Say vague, blanket statements that describe certain "conditions" the you yourself MAY be suffering from. Such as restless leg syndrome (RLS). The "symptoms" described in that drug ad are vague enough to make me believe I have RLS right fucking now. And the side effect of the drugs are really hilarious. They include shit like "The increased urge to gamble" and "have casual sex". Well... sounds to me like I know of another medication that you can take right now to cure your fake disease. It's called "whiskey". Ok, so just to summarize what just happened here; First, they made up an affliction you didn't even know you had. Second, they sold you a drug to cure the non-existant affliction. Third, they said the side effect of the medication are in line with those of alcohol, which, we can safely presume is more fun, more effective, and far less expensive.
I suppose (though its not really my style), I should disclose that I do know that RLS is a real affliction, and that it can be serious. That said, I also know that something like only 2 or 3 percent of Americans will be the only people on the globe to come accross this affliction, let alone acknowledge it as a "syndrome". Also, one can deduce that if one did come down with RLS, it would have to be pretty serious in order for anyone to even consider the remote possibility that it couldn't me taken care of by a walk, a glass of brandy, or an afternoon jog.
That's all I'm sayin'. I'll take my drugs "Fun Size" and recreational, and my candy bars fucking huge.
That's marketing for you though, innit? It doesn't matter how stupid or improbably a thing is, if they say it enough times, either we'll start to believe it, or and the very least, we'll not question it. They also think that if they play non-threatening music and speak in a soft voice, we'll never realize they;re saying horrible shit.
I saw a commercial for asthma medication, and during the health risk disclosures (some of the most hilarious material on TV, by the way), it said, "May cause asthma related death". I wouldn't lie to you, fat tits. An asthma medication... where a "side effect" included "asthma related death". But it's cool though, because while they said that, they were showing butterflies, playing a Nick Drake song, and it was voiced by a soft spoken chick with a sexy British accent.... so don't worry about it, ok?
Know what else they do? Say vague, blanket statements that describe certain "conditions" the you yourself MAY be suffering from. Such as restless leg syndrome (RLS). The "symptoms" described in that drug ad are vague enough to make me believe I have RLS right fucking now. And the side effect of the drugs are really hilarious. They include shit like "The increased urge to gamble" and "have casual sex". Well... sounds to me like I know of another medication that you can take right now to cure your fake disease. It's called "whiskey". Ok, so just to summarize what just happened here; First, they made up an affliction you didn't even know you had. Second, they sold you a drug to cure the non-existant affliction. Third, they said the side effect of the medication are in line with those of alcohol, which, we can safely presume is more fun, more effective, and far less expensive.
I suppose (though its not really my style), I should disclose that I do know that RLS is a real affliction, and that it can be serious. That said, I also know that something like only 2 or 3 percent of Americans will be the only people on the globe to come accross this affliction, let alone acknowledge it as a "syndrome". Also, one can deduce that if one did come down with RLS, it would have to be pretty serious in order for anyone to even consider the remote possibility that it couldn't me taken care of by a walk, a glass of brandy, or an afternoon jog.
That's all I'm sayin'. I'll take my drugs "Fun Size" and recreational, and my candy bars fucking huge.
Friday, May 4, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Nothing. Go away.
Sometimes, making a promise to yourself doesn't count unless you say it out loud. If you don't you'll start negotiating with yourself. "Well, ok, not every day. How about every day that you aren't hung over?" Or, "I already do something kind of similar to that every day, so I only need to do this 3 times a week." Whatever. All I know is that my subconscious mind must have learned how to negotiate from one of those tough money hungry business men with whom I've been working for that last 6 years, 'cause I drive a hard bargain with myself. I don't have a problem exploiting myself either. If I see myself getting some resolve, I'll fuckin' cut myself down to drown my own ambition and keep myself under my thumb. I don't care. Jesus, I'm a dick to me.
Anyway I have this idea to take notes on everything. As if I'm trying to learn about my own life. I want to carry a small notebook everywhere. Every good Idea I get, write it down. Every time something funny happens, write it down. Every time I get inspired, write it down. It doesn't have to be detailed, just enough to stir the ol' memory. And it can be about anything.
I'll also have a bigger notebook that lives right by my bed. I'll set my alarm for a half an hour earlier every mornin'. When Warren Alney starts to blather on about the happenings of the world on "Morning Edition", I'll reach over and pick up the little notebook that comes with me everywhere I go, and the big notebook that lives beside my bed. Then I'll write up a report summarizing all the notes I took for the previous day. It won't have to be good. It won't even have to make sense. What it will be though is a notebook full of ideas. Ones that I thought, at some point miht turn out good. Sure, it'll take some work, and most of the things that I write down will be in fact, stupid ideas, but at least they'll be there.
The thing I'll have to keep in mind is that starting out, I'm going to suck at this. It's a good thing I'm a mean self boss and a wimpering, spineless self-employee. Other wise I might quit my pretend shitty job as a self absorbed writer.
Anyway I'm not only saying it out loud, I'm writing it down and making it accessible to anyone with an internet connection. That way, it'll be easy for all y'all haters to produce evidence that corroborates the claim, "Kory's a douche." And the subsequent conclusion, "Let's all make fun of him." Just to let you know I'm serious about this shit. And also to warn anyone I might interact with on a daily basis: I'll be writing a lot of things down in the next couple months. Most of the things I write down will be making fun of you. Keep that in mind. No, you can't read it. Hope that hater-ade is going down nice and smooth.
Anyway I have this idea to take notes on everything. As if I'm trying to learn about my own life. I want to carry a small notebook everywhere. Every good Idea I get, write it down. Every time something funny happens, write it down. Every time I get inspired, write it down. It doesn't have to be detailed, just enough to stir the ol' memory. And it can be about anything.
I'll also have a bigger notebook that lives right by my bed. I'll set my alarm for a half an hour earlier every mornin'. When Warren Alney starts to blather on about the happenings of the world on "Morning Edition", I'll reach over and pick up the little notebook that comes with me everywhere I go, and the big notebook that lives beside my bed. Then I'll write up a report summarizing all the notes I took for the previous day. It won't have to be good. It won't even have to make sense. What it will be though is a notebook full of ideas. Ones that I thought, at some point miht turn out good. Sure, it'll take some work, and most of the things that I write down will be in fact, stupid ideas, but at least they'll be there.
The thing I'll have to keep in mind is that starting out, I'm going to suck at this. It's a good thing I'm a mean self boss and a wimpering, spineless self-employee. Other wise I might quit my pretend shitty job as a self absorbed writer.
Anyway I'm not only saying it out loud, I'm writing it down and making it accessible to anyone with an internet connection. That way, it'll be easy for all y'all haters to produce evidence that corroborates the claim, "Kory's a douche." And the subsequent conclusion, "Let's all make fun of him." Just to let you know I'm serious about this shit. And also to warn anyone I might interact with on a daily basis: I'll be writing a lot of things down in the next couple months. Most of the things I write down will be making fun of you. Keep that in mind. No, you can't read it. Hope that hater-ade is going down nice and smooth.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
I know this is pretty shameless self promotion, but that's ok. I have some footage of some other really good poets from the festival, but one never knows how an artist will react to having their work plastered all over the internet by some douche who can't seem to compress a video file well enough to get a clear picture on to youtube.
That being said, check this out:
That being said, check this out:
Friday, April 13, 2007
Yes, it’s been quite a long time. I know, I’m a douche.
In the time I've been away, I got shit canned from a totally sweet sales job and was put in the position of having to take a “real” job which is probably twice the work and half the pay. And just so you know, (I feel obligated to defend myself here), it wasn’t my performance that got me shit canned from my awesome sales job at Argus. It was the job itself that was eliminated. I in fact, produced more than the desired results but the thing of it is, the deals I put on the table weren’t closing. So I ended up giving them a lot of work which they didn’t make any money on. That thar 's jist bad bidness, so the axe done fell. Fuck.
In other news, I came across this on the internet a couple of days ago:
N = C + {fb(cm) . fb(tc)} + fb(Ts) + fc . ta
You guessed it! It’s a scientific formula for the perfect bacon sandwich! Don't believe me? You can read about it here Just what cutting edge science out to be doing, right? And to think, all this time I thought scientists were supposed to be researching how to cure horrible diseases and other ways to benefit all mankind. Go figure.
It’s not that I don’t appreciate the idea of a scientifically calculated bacon sandwich, (sounds delicious!), it’s just that it seems a little foolish to have launched that kind of a study when there are little things like Malaria running amok all over the world. Also, it’s still true that there is no known cure for the common cold. Believe it or not, there are one or two deathly diseases I’m leaving out too... or so I hear.
Justin Bobo has clamitia.
Finally, I should probably advise people visiting Hollywood not to go to jail, if they can help it. I know it sounds like fun, but it's not. Seriously. Last night I spent the night there, on an all expense paid (by my brother bailing me out) trip. Hey, it only cost $2700 for a seemingly endless night of pure misery, complete with other patrons introducing themselves with a Gang name, followed by a set the way whitey often introduces himself with a Christian name, followed by a company. Oh, and it's really cool that the tiolets are just bolted to the wall next to the bunks, right in front of the window. That way, when Juan Deez, (South Side) wants to carry on a conversation whilst taking a dump, it's way less awkward.
Melly Bobo still pees her pants sometimes.
In the time I've been away, I got shit canned from a totally sweet sales job and was put in the position of having to take a “real” job which is probably twice the work and half the pay. And just so you know, (I feel obligated to defend myself here), it wasn’t my performance that got me shit canned from my awesome sales job at Argus. It was the job itself that was eliminated. I in fact, produced more than the desired results but the thing of it is, the deals I put on the table weren’t closing. So I ended up giving them a lot of work which they didn’t make any money on. That thar 's jist bad bidness, so the axe done fell. Fuck.
In other news, I came across this on the internet a couple of days ago:
N = C + {fb(cm) . fb(tc)} + fb(Ts) + fc . ta
You guessed it! It’s a scientific formula for the perfect bacon sandwich! Don't believe me? You can read about it here Just what cutting edge science out to be doing, right? And to think, all this time I thought scientists were supposed to be researching how to cure horrible diseases and other ways to benefit all mankind. Go figure.
It’s not that I don’t appreciate the idea of a scientifically calculated bacon sandwich, (sounds delicious!), it’s just that it seems a little foolish to have launched that kind of a study when there are little things like Malaria running amok all over the world. Also, it’s still true that there is no known cure for the common cold. Believe it or not, there are one or two deathly diseases I’m leaving out too... or so I hear.
Justin Bobo has clamitia.
Finally, I should probably advise people visiting Hollywood not to go to jail, if they can help it. I know it sounds like fun, but it's not. Seriously. Last night I spent the night there, on an all expense paid (by my brother bailing me out) trip. Hey, it only cost $2700 for a seemingly endless night of pure misery, complete with other patrons introducing themselves with a Gang name, followed by a set the way whitey often introduces himself with a Christian name, followed by a company. Oh, and it's really cool that the tiolets are just bolted to the wall next to the bunks, right in front of the window. That way, when Juan Deez, (South Side) wants to carry on a conversation whilst taking a dump, it's way less awkward.
Melly Bobo still pees her pants sometimes.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Going out of town tomorrow. Taking the train to the mountains. The continental divide.
24 hours on a steel rail oughtta be enough of a spiritual massage to work out the knots of tension in my soul. Maybe.
I'll go to the top of the mountain, read some poems, and then come back to Hollywood to start working for about half of what I'm worth (as far as a reg'ler paycheck is concerned). Upward mobility not withstanding.
Mystery train. Take me away.
Hopefully I'll come back with a good story and some decent footage. We'll see.
Until then, Walk the Beauty Way.
24 hours on a steel rail oughtta be enough of a spiritual massage to work out the knots of tension in my soul. Maybe.
I'll go to the top of the mountain, read some poems, and then come back to Hollywood to start working for about half of what I'm worth (as far as a reg'ler paycheck is concerned). Upward mobility not withstanding.
Mystery train. Take me away.
Hopefully I'll come back with a good story and some decent footage. We'll see.
Until then, Walk the Beauty Way.
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