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August 28, 2008 - Thursday
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My name is Beau and I’m a red light runner.
Category: News and Politics
So the city keeps sending me these cool videos and pictures of me driving. I didn't even have to ask for them. They say that I ran a red light and that the proof is in the pictures they took. You tell me.
notice 0630800297420
pin 3900
right click this Link and select "open in new window" and then enter the info above into the respective fields to see me NOT running a red light. Look at me in my eco friendly suburban. In all three cases so far I have been at least that far out in the intersection before the light turned red. So I leave it up to you to judge me.
Oh ok I am guilty but still!!!
There is a company that wants to sell me a phantomplate for my car. It will hide the plate number from the cameras but not look suspicious to the police otherwise. They got my address from public records after the ticket was issued. The funny part is that the phantomplate ad got here before the ticket did.
I read somewhere that cars with mexican plates do not get red light camera tickets. I think I am a victim of racism or at least nationalitism.
Here is a thought. Anyone who is feeling extra nice can click the pay online button and contribute to my legal fund. You get a video of me running a red light as a bonus even.
12:58 AM
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104 Comments - 72 Kudos
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August 25, 2008 - Monday
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wanna watch me skip?
Category: Friends
Trust me?
Come then. I trust you.
Remember those old fashioned dolls? The ones whose eyes closed when you laid them back? I think God used a set of those eyes when he built my nose.
Stay with me.
You see, my nostrils stop working when I lay down. One side more than the other, but between them they are diminished enough to render them useless. I have to open my mouth or I have to do this awkward thing where I lay my arm across my face and pull the skin that covers my sinuses back. I have to do this in such a way that it opens one side up enough to take on the task of filling my lungs to capacity. I am sure that this ends abruptly after falling asleep whereupon I must use my mouth. This worries me because I am not fond of literally being a mouth breather even if it is only while I sleep. I am not sure why being a mouth breather bothers me except to say that the way "progressives" and "intellectuals" use the term it just sounds horrible. I would expect to find out that incest is to blame or being dropped on my head as a baby. Mouth breather! Uhfff! That just feels so... so... deliverance.
Why do I let such a silly thing rule my thoughts? Even if only for a brief moment before sleep, why would I waste brain space on it?
If I could answer that question I could unlock my full potential. I remeber a time in my youth when my every second was bombarded by fears such as these. The fear of what others must be thinking. Inside my head went a lightning fast dialogue that was governed not by the rules of time.
Am I walking funny?
Dunno.
Kinda girly maybe?
Not really girly just... well maybe a bit odd.
Well pay attention and tell me what it is.
Ok. compose yourself and step. Now the other foot.
There it is again.
Yep, that was kinda girly.
Dude, did I just skip? Seriously? I mean I know there was a few cracks in the sidewalk and I would hate to break my mothers back but from across the street that had to look like a skip.
Pretend to tie your shoe.
That way if anyone saw me they will think I tripped on a shoelace. Good plan... for a complete psycho.
A psycho with dirty shoes.
Jesus christ! I am just going back home. I can't be seen in these old ass shoes.
I know I said dialogue and you probably think I meant monologue, but believe me there were two distinctive voices in that shit. You must be deleting me as I speak. Well for anyone who decided to tough it out I will finish embarrassing myself.
You see, there were days when the thought of showing up at school in dirty shoes was paralyzing. So the thought of someone noticing my dirty shoes because I fucking skipped like a girl to avoid breaking my mothers back because of a crack in the sidewalk was unacceptable. So I ditched a lot in middle school and high school. It was just easier than the gauntlet of potential embarrassments stretched out like a carnival midway between my house and school. To top it all off there was no way I could ever tell a soul that I even had the fear of this happening let alone stick around to discuss it after it happened. Did I mention the quarky rule about having to touch my tongue to the right side of the roof of my mouth when my left foot came down and then the left side of the roof of my mouth when my right foot came down? No? Probably better that way, but it's true and it's just one of my quarky fucking rules. I was convinced that my own mother would have me committed just to keep my father from killing us both if they knew how my brain worked. So like I said, I never mentioned it to anyone until now.
Man that feels good.
I am so glad that not only do I not have the quarks anymore but I have you to tell about the time when I did.
Well, I am off to buy some breath right strips so I can get some sleep. Goodnight.
12:44 AM
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43 Comments - 57 Kudos
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August 23, 2006 - Wednesday
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master of my own cellular destiny.(original form)
So I have this theory. It's kind of complex. Couple that fact with my being uneducated and you get what you pay for. Okay so it goes something like this.
I read somewhere that our cells have markers that designate when and where they are supposed to reproduce them selves. Then the blue prints of how to reproduce themselves. Then finally when to stop reproducing themselves.
Apparently oxygen and other factors eventually burn up the latter marker causing the cell to reproduce like crazy and that is what cancer is all about. When the first marker is burned away the cell stops producing, period, and that is where aging comes in to play. Now the science behind all of this is kind of sketchy and new info is revealed every day.
Now for my theory. I think that we have a spiritual marker. A kind of "conversation with god marker" if you will. Does that make sense? Anyone who has been through a 12 step program or "found jesus" can certainly corroborate this theory. My theory is not really new. Obviously we evolve. Back in the day our bodies got tired of slithering on our bellies so we grew legs, but I have never seen this thought applied on a spiritual or emotional level. If I am correct it explains away addiction, depression, bi polarism, pms, racism, etc.. The list of applicable scenarios is infinite.
Here is how it works. When we harbor guilt, animosity, hatred, and any number of negative emotions information is printed on our cellular blue print. I think the exact moment that this takes place is what we referr to as "depression" . Let's say that you are molested on a San Francisco trolley car by Bernie Ward. You go home feeling icky and you sleep for three days straight until eventually the thought of icecream and a movie draws you away from the bed. During those three days you were erasing old data and writing new data on your cells. Some of the old data erased might be the ease at which you maintain your flat tummy muscles. Some of the new data would be better peripheral view or maybe strong leg muscles designed for crotch kicking. We pass this new info off to our kids and they benifit from it.
This theory (in my humble opinion) explains why some people have third nipples, 12 toes, poor eye sight and even premature ejaculation.
Now here is where my theory truly becomes original. I think that we have become third parties to the process that I just outlined. I also think that we are really meant to be in control of it but have evolved away from being even active particpants. The reason that I think I am alive and sober today is that I (unwittingly) decided to play an part in the process of my own emotional evolution. I also think that in doing so I exhibit certain immediate traits that encourage others around me in doing so as well.
discuss.
**** Back to the Evolved version of this blog.
2:12 PM
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0 Comments - 0 Kudos
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August 24, 2008 - Sunday
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My cancerous blog is in remission.
Category: Religion and Philosophy
So I have this theory. It's kind of complex. Couple that fact with my being uneducated and you get what you pay for. Okay so it goes something like this.
I read somewhere that our cells have markers that, A: designate when and where they are supposed to reproduce themselves. (Is this just a fancy way of telling me to go fuck myself?) B: the blue prints of how to reproduce themselves. And finally C: The info needed to determine when to stop reproducing themselves.
Apparently oxygen and other factors eventually burn up the latter marker causing the cell to reproduce like crazy and that is what cancer is all about. When the first marker is burned away the cell stops reproducing, period, and that is where aging comes in to play. Now the science behind all of this is kind of sketchy and new info is revealed every day. But experts say that I am on board with cutting edge science.
Now for my theory. I think that we have a spiritual marker. A kind of "conversation with god marker" if you will. Does that make sense? Anyone who has been through a 12 step program or "found jesus"...
can certainly corroborate this theory. My theory is not really new. Obviously we evolve. Back in the day our bodies got tired of slithering on our bellies so we grew legs, but I have never seen this thought applied on a spiritual or emotional level. If I am correct it explains away addiction, depression, bi-polarism, pms, racism, smelly feet etc.. The list of applicable scenarios is infinite and it applies to positive emotions as well. Can you imagine what kind of genetic-code-changes would insue from giving a hundred bucks to a homeless person?
I wonder what info gets printed after a night of hot sex.
(I am told by a very smart woman that my theory actually is not my own and it has a name. According to her its called "the hole in the soul theory", although I maintain the thought that my version is somewhat different. You see, I cannot find the actual hole in the soul theory in text so I don't know if the part about printing emotional info on our genetic blueprint is included.)
Here is how my version works. When we harbor guilt, animosity, hatred, and any number of negative emotions information is printed on our cellular blue print. I think the exact moment that this takes place is what we referr to as "depression" . Let's say that you are molested on a San Francisco trolley car by Bernie Ward.
You go home feeling icky and you sleep for three days straight until eventually the thought of icecream and a movie draws you away from the bed. During those three days you were erasing old data and writing new data on your cells. So while doctors want to help you with the depression I say that they should help you with the data entry. Some of the old data erased might be the ease at which you maintain your flat tummy muscles. Some of the new data would be better peripheral view or maybe strong leg muscles designed for crotch kicking.
We pass this new info off to our kids and they benefit from it. We also share learned responses with each other. My genetic blueprint has been rewritten by many of you, many times. In the bible there is a passage that pretty much backs up my prognoses. It says that 7 generations of our offspring have the burden of paying for our sins. It's comonly known as the bloodline curse. I think that when we forgive others or repent of our own transgression we are actually changing the data that encompasses that 7 generation curse. Call it Karma or whatever. The point is that we do not pass the guilt when we own it here and now. Sometimes we have to forgive. Forget. Forego. For free. For life.
This theory (in my humble opinion) explains why some people have third nipples, 12 toes, poor eye sight and even premature ejaculation. Just imagine what Andy Dicks great (x 7) grandfather did.
Now here is where my theory truly becomes original. I think that we have become third parties to the process that I just outlined. I also think that we are really meant to be in control of it but have evolved away from being even active particpants. The reason that I think I am alive and sober today is that I (unwittingly) decided to play an active roll in the process of my own emotional evolution. I also think that in doing so I exhibit certain immediate traits that encourage others around me in doing so as well. If this seems to resinate with you - makes total sense to you - its because I learned it from you. Not to mention that apparently they even made a movie that is all about my theory. I guess it nothing new.
Nothing to see here folks. Move along.
Sites like Wikipedia are the evolving cellular makeup of the collective internet thought. This blog will evolve every time a relative comment is made. You can see the original here.
Discuss.
Ps. I don't get it. Why would Myspace assume that I need this link?
Seriously? Would I sexually assault my blog readers?
10:03 AM
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81 Comments - 64 Kudos
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August 22, 2008 - Friday
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Political blog to tie you over till tomorrow.
Category: News and Politics
Okay, so how NOT in the north atlantic do you have to be before Bush will not want you in NATO?
So I will be here tomorrow with fun stuff. See ya then. I am off to watch season 2 of Dexter so don't bother checkin back tonight. Love ya.
5:50 PM
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41 Comments - 36 Kudos
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April 26, 2008 - Saturday
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A real blog this time.
Category: MySpace
I have returned on a mission. I come in the capacity of an elected official of our federal government even. Because of my kidnapping, captivity and subsequent escape from myspace I am unique. So very few have been able to find their way out of myspace once they were suckered into signing up by the predators that own this site. It may take me some time to make you see the truth because of the digital brainwashing effects, but I assure you that this is not the real world and that you are living a lie. The Great Myspace Lie. Believe it or not many of you are missed by your loved ones and the entire world suffers due to your absence.
This site attracts 230,000 new registrations per day and currently has 230,647,293 members.
The 12 intellectuals left in the real world (non myspacers) have come to the conclusion that you all are responsible for the many problems that have cropped up recently. They all agree that myspace is at the very center of the majority of the issues facing the world today.
Global warming: The earth has increased by 1.7% since the launch of myspace in 2003. There have been many differing opinions on the cause during that time period but the rapid decrease in the number of qualified climatologists weighing in has sparked a new theory. New tests reveal that the global temperature increases during peak myspace use and particularly right after some of the more seductive blog postings. A phenomenon known to the scientific community as MMM or Mass Myspace Masturbation is clearly the cause of ice cap melting.
Recession: Many places in the world are experiencing economic turmoil. It seems that the more people log into myspace the less the almighty dollar flows. The 3 remaining members of the U.S. congress not on myspace are sup[porting a bill that will allow only those who spend a minimum amount of money per day to log into myspace at all. The internet as a whole will soon be linked to your debit card and access will be denied if your bank account does not show income and spending at a healthy rate.
There are many such instances where myspace is affecting the world
I have been sent, by the small number of folks left on earth that are not here, to show you the way out.
If you are ready to join the real world again then follow me.
This way. This way.
Uhmmm no, this way.
Hahaha someone moved the door?
Lets try this way.
Shit.
I hope they send that other guy soon.
1:34 PM
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64 Comments - 104 Kudos
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Who missed me?
Category: Life
I missed you too.
I guess it's time to clean up the cobbwebs in here.
I shall return in two hours or so. Off to hike through the desert. I gotta lose some weight if I am gonna be posting in a thong again.
9:26 AM
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64 Comments - 112 Kudos
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November 17, 2007 - Saturday
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Hello
I took the family to Dairy Queen after dinner last night. Right next door is a check cashing center and a Payday loans office who share a common parking lot.
Picture a parking lot that is having a lowrider show, that has been advertised thoroughly for a year, getting caught in the middle of a Super Bowl tailgate party. I have never seen so much traffic in one parking lot in my life.
I could actually hear the money as it transferred from little guy pocket to big fish account.
Now don't get me wrong, I think a person should live within their meens. I also think that a crack dealer should feel just a little shame for setting up shop at a rehab center. I want to see a new reality TV show called "To catch a predator lender."
So how are my long lost freindly wendlies? I have been working my ass off so that I don't end up at a tailgate party. So far so good. The only non-essential expense that I still have is the internet though. So I just want to say this to you all.
If you are planning on buying some of this cheap property that has been recently foreclosed upon, but are waiting for the market to hit it's absolute low.... BUY NOW!!!
Lets see, what else was on my mind?
I am no fool and that means that I can already tell you that Hillary Clinton is going to be the next President of our Nation.
With that in mind I want to tell all of you kool aid drinking sheep who are going to vote for her that you will be sorry.
That is all I am going to say on the subject.
I really don't have much else for you, but I promised Rav I would show my face so here is my face. *sticks tongue out*
Miss ya. I will blog regularly when the economy provides the free time.
Later Skaters.
7:32 AM
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67 Comments - 124 Kudos
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October 8, 2007 - Monday
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Good Cessations. a new dramedy on Foks TV
Category: News and Politics
This blog had been found sucking and was erased for said sucking.
8:45 AM
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84 Comments - 112 Kudos
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September 10, 2007 - Monday
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Hello Peoples w/a blog even
Category: MySpace
The mascot as usual, I was in the middle, down on one knee with my two sisters and their friends stacked around me like accessories hanging from my ears while I held my plastic, novelty store, British Bobby's helmet on the other knee. So out of place was that London vacation memorabilia and eight year old me in general with my puffy feather filled snow coat in October, smiling as if the gleam from my exaggerated smile was the origin of light that would ultimately produce the photograph being taken. At the time I thought it was my idea to always be the center of attention. It seems now that the true order of things was such that I was placed there the way one places a vase on a table. I was the fool in a world of female kings, too busy being amusing to realize that it was not of my own intent. I was the hardest working nine-year-old ass in show business, appointed to that position by my mother, the king of kings.
"Say Cheese!"
A bright flash, then they were gone and I was still on my mark waiting for the pay off, alone in a rented yard in the middle of England, a million miles away from my American past and future, back to being alone like that briefly admired vase after the party guests had retreated to another room in the house, to sit and speak of things that a foyer table ornament wouldn't understand. And so off I rode on my lead heavy huffy periodically trying to get the front tire off the ground because the "Wheelie" was a sure sign of greatness. I could feel the heat building in my pocket from the twenty dollars worth of the queens currency that I had stolen from my mother's purse to spend it all in the proverbial "one place". A tip from me to you: Give your kids an allowance.
I had ceased to hear the constant whine of the house sized engines that hung from the wings of the worlds largest aircraft unless I was staring directly at one and then suddenly the sound was deafening. Behind our home with ill gotten gain (a paper bag full of candy from the corner store) I pushed my beast-of-burden through the gate and watched it slowly stop rolling until it fell over, digging a handle bar into the soft grass of our tiny backyard. Like so many times before, I pressed my face to the fence to stare at those enormous planes as if I had a spiritual connection to them. A three foot walkway lay between my back fence and the airbase's. Twenty four hours a day those C5 Galaxies idly screamed unbeknownst to those who had simply gotten used to the sound. Sitting out there on the tarmac, one of these behemoths looked like any other military cargo plane until any other military cargo plane taxied by it. Only then could one see how majestic it was with both the length and width of a football field standing on twenty some odd wheels with its nose lifted up and open and its ass hanging down so that you could drive trucks inside from both directions filling it with pallet after pallet of anything and everything. I would look down both lengths of that empty walkway and wonder why I was the only one in the world standing there staring out at those amazing flying warehouses and yet I have my suspicions that you are as uninterested as the rest.
I slowly reached inside my coat pocket and withdrew my prized possession without thought and while keeping my eyes fixed on the planes. Slowly I tipped the first wooden block over causing the others that hung from it to begin their domino like reaction of walking down one after the other. A toy they called "Jacobs Ladder" was a deeply mystical object to a child. I would try with all my might to understand how it worked with its intricately woven ribbons until my brain swelled under the stress and then I would put it back in my pocket defeated. Magic took time to understand and so I was determined to have the patience required to become a great wizard. In the meantime there were young neighborhood blokes to harass and be harassed by to keep me busy. It was nearly Guy Fawkes' Day so the bon-fire was being stocked with flammable rubbish on Stingy Nettle Hill.
At the time I barely understood the true meaning of Guy Fawkes Day as still is the case. I doubt the locals knew any better than I. Some guy named Guy tried to blow up parliament some time back in history and it became a holiday. I knew one other thing for sure about November 5th, it was time to light the biggest god damned fire I had ever seen in person and then dance around it all night with sparklers, without even getting in trouble for it. The best part was that it was my fire since it was on my hill and in my mind, that practically made me royalty.
Stingy Nettle Hill was aptly named after the plants that grew there. One touch of the under side of any leaf and your skin would swell up in many mosquito bite like welts causing the most intense itching and burning imaginable. It only took one such occasion for the image of those leaves to sear themselves into my brain for life. I could see them hiding in the thickets of wild berries and steer clear with the utmost respect. Despite the stingy nettles, I traversed the hill daily for it was the direct route to the infamous abandoned cottage that was my fortress and club house. The cottage had been cut in half by German bombers during World War Two and left to be swallowed by vegetation ever since. Completely hidden from view in the middle of our neighborhood was my very own two-story fort that could not be seen by the passing motorists as I threw wild crab apples at them with anonymity from the second story front windows. At one time it had two staircases but one of them had been completely destroyed leaving an opening in the floor above. That was my escape route for when the motorists finally caught on. So far that had never happened and my clubhouse was yet to be breached by any adults. The problem was that the British kids thought it was their clubhouse as well. I had the never ending task of devising ways to keep them out of my kingdom. Being the only American boy in the neighborhood put me at a disadvantage and frequently open to a stoning, but I was crafty and I had yet another trick up my sleeve.
From my lookout position I could see the nearby park where Simon and his pals were running laps for their "football" practice. How dumb could they be? Everyone knew it was called soccer! I knew I had another 20 minutes or so before they would come running over to take back the cottage from me, so I readied the battle stations. All of the boys in his little gang had biblical names like Simon, Peter, Noah, and Luke. They were rural kids and had mild cockney accents saying things like "frow" instead of "throw" and "cor blimey" in place of "wow" which I still use to this day. Down deep in my heart of hearts I absolutely loved to listen to this speech yet it was the perfect fodder for me when arguing with them. I would regularly let them know how bad they were trashing the American language.
9:22 PM
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110 Comments - 180 Kudos
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