Senseful ramblings of an incoherent nature from a delusional schizophrenic (or my views on current events)

Friday, July 29, 2005

Blank Mind

When I was a child I always thought that my parents had the ability to read my mind. I dont know why I ever thought that to begin with, but that idea stuck with me throughout my youth and probably into my pre-teen years.

Every time I got yelled at I would think that they could tell I was lying or that I was hiding something from them, so I started to practice keeping a blank mind anytime I got caught doing something (although I must admit that I was fairly crafty at not getting caught and at getting out of any situation I did get caught in). I got so good at making my mind empty that I then learned how to lie with ease, and eventually learned how to manipulate people (I have actually lost friends who were scared of my ability to manipulate others and thought that I would manipulate them as well), although that is a story for another time.

Did anyone else believe that their parents could read their minds? Or was I the only gullible moron child who thought this?

Monday, July 25, 2005

My door

In case you were wondering, this is what the door to my mind looks like:

Yeah, it looks pretty boring, but believe me when I say that it hides a wonderfully detailed world behind it.

Thursday, July 21, 2005

I Have the Answer!

Recently, in one of my fine posts, I noted that I heard a little boy ask the question "why do people fall in holes?" Well, unfortunately for me, I found out the hard way, as yesterday I indeed fell in a hole.

This hole wasnt much of a hole. In the grand scheme of holes this hole would be the equivalent of a prepubescent girl’s mosquito bite sized boobies, but nevertheless, I did find my way into it.

You see, I just got out of a meeting downtown and went to the parking lot where I left my car. Because this is a fairly busy lot they make you leave your keys so that they can move your car so they can get to the cars that are double or triple parked. As I was searching the lot for my car I clearly did not have the sense to watch where I was going, so my left foot ended up entering this hole at an awkward angle. After stumbling and bumbling and not falling down or dropping any of the papers I had, I found my car and walked over towards it with a noticeably manly limp.

A manly limp is when you are really hurt, but there are other men around so you have to act like you just tripped and didnt really hurt yourself. After I left the lot I cursed and hit the steering wheel a few times.

So here's the answer: People fall in holes to sprain their ankles.

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Below the Belt

I went to camp Arrowhead for a number of years, either 10 or 11. Most of those years were spent as a camper, however I was a junior counselor for 2 years, getting paid a whopping $50 for the entire summer, plus whatever tips a generous parent might give me. But that isnt the point.

Earlier, when I was a camper, much earlier in fact, my best friend forever (bff, honey) Seth, and his younger brother Josh also attended the same camp. Hell, we even road the same bus since we lived fairly close to each other. But again, that isnt the point either.

Seth used to be called 6.5, but I am not really sure why? That isnt the point though.

Josh is at least 6 years younger than Seth. That is part of the story, but not the point. He shares the same name as me, that's important and cool, but...

Seth and I sat in the back of the big yellow school bus that took us to and from camp every day, which was driven by Uncle John, who was neither my uncle, or Seth and Josh's uncle. Every adult that worked at Camp Arrowhead was referred to as an Uncle or an Aunt. When I first started going to Camp Arrowhead, Uncle Al ran the place, and chomped on his cigar as he walked around the camp grounds. Later, his son, Uncle Howie, who had a rabid temper, took over. Uncle Howie was married to Aunt Jan, who ran the swimming program. Aunt Jan had a smoking body, except those summers that she was pregnant, but she always bounced back. Uncle Dick used to run the mess hall, and always seemed to have a bull horn with him, although I never figured out why.

Uncle John would later be my counselor for my last two years of camp. He was a teacher during the school year. Most camp counselors are teachers because their schedule permits that. The other's that arent teachers are probably child molesters, although I dont have any information or proof to back that up.

In the back of the bus Seth and I would sit and joke and pick on his younger brother, the same younger brother who shares my name. Seth doesnt have any other younger brothers. He also doesnt have any sisters.

Siblings aside, his parents, although they are the nicest people, are very intimidating, his mom especially. When I first met her, at the age of 7 or so, she said that I should call her Phyllis, and her husband was (and still is) Ken. To this day I still want to call them Mr. and Mrs. Aaron.

One day in the back of the bus I punched the little fella who shares my name right in his little peepee. Hopefully it isnt little anymore since this story happened 17 years ago, but that really isnt my business. I didnt actually mean to punch him there, it just happened that his area was where my fist landed.

Mrs. Aaron, I mean Phyllis, is probably no taller than 5 foot 1, if that. But she has the booming voice of a BBW at an all you can eat buffet. And she can stare down a lion if need be. While she can be scary, you couldnt ask for a better best friend's mom. Her cooking is out of this world. She curses. And she generally let us do what we wanted as long as we were reasonable. She also had a conversation with my father once about how much I did, and did not know about sex. Later that night my father asked me if I knew what a blow job was. I told him that it was something a woman got at a hair salon. That was the only conversation I ever had with my father about sex. It happened in the third grade.

After I punched Josh in the balls he cried in pain a little bit and looked at me all crooked eyed while yelling at me that he was going to tell his mother. I quickly sat down, shut up and had fear creeping through my bones.

Phyllis would always wait for Seth and Josh at the corner where the bus let them off. Usually the bus would stop at every child's house, but since so many children from Seth's cul-de-sac went to Camp Arrowhead the bus just picked them up at the corner.

As the bus neared the corner where Seth and Josh would get off, I quickly ducked down so I couldnt be seen from the window. I heard the doors open and all the kids run off and for a split second I thought that those scampering feet would be followed by the adultish walk of Mrs. Aaron coming to let me have it, but thankfully the doors closed and I was safe.

I continued to duck down below the window line for at least the next two weeks in fear for my life!

I havent punched someone in the balls since.

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Mike Ditka?

As I was waiting for the elevator after our monthly board meeting this morning I heard two men in the bathroom , which was in the area where I was waiting. I recognized the two voices as my boss and the president of our organization. As I was entering the elevator I heard my boss say, "Uh, um.... IT'S NOT WORKING." I honestly have no clue as to what he could have been talking about, but let me just leave you with this little bit of information: my boss is an elder gentlement.

Tuesday, July 12, 2005


Today, as I was leaving the building where I work, a child who was entering the building asked his ugly as sin mother the following question:

"Why do people fall in holes?"

And I thought to myself, "my, isnt that just a brilliant question!" Unfortunately for me, him, and his ugly as sin mother, I didnt have an answer.

Logically we can say that stupid people fall in holes, and perhaps the blind if their dog isnt doing its job, and sometimes the "gifted" because they may think that falling into a hole is fun.

But then I got to thinking that there are many kinds of holes that one can fall into. The list of holes could be as long as Bubba's shrimp preparation list, however since I dont want to think about holes for that long I will merely go through a couple different types of holes that we as humans can fall into and the reasons why we might fall into them.

The Financial Hole - a theoretical hole really, but one that we are still able to stumble into if we arent careful with our spending in relationship to our income. This hole is usually fairly difficult to emerge from as well, sometimes taking years for some who dont think about it.

The "Howd She Get Pregnant?" Hole - which is usually followed by the "I slipped and fell into her hole, what do you think?" comment. This is also known as the other woman's hole. You fall into this hole when you are bored with your wife, drunk, stupid, horny, or otherwise being a man, while not wearing a condom (stupid).

The Ass Hole - This is the hole on the back of everyone's body (or at least I hope yours is there). I think the only real way to fall into this hole is if you have a small pecker and you are dating an obese gay man.

The K Hole - This hole is a rather unpleasant one if you or the people around you do not know how to handle your drugs. You fall into this hole by utilizing the animal tranquilizer known as ketamin while in a bad atmosphere. While I have never been in one and cant speak from experience, I have seen people in one and it does seem rather unfun.

The Hole - Also known as solitary confinement, one must first be in prison to even qualify to get into this hole. Then you have to commit another heinous act to get thrown into it, usually naked, and feed only bread and water for a certain amount of time determined by the warden’s mood.

The Crevasse - This is a rather thing, but deep hole, usually in glacial ice, and very dangerous. You can fall into this hole by not being careful, or just by talking along on an ice drift and falling through one. This is different from a crevice, ask anyone!

The Black Hole - Matter is sucked into this mostly unknown about phenomenon/old star that blew up. Eventually we will all fall into a black hole, but by then we will all also be buried or burned or otherwise disposed of and long forgotten. Pleasant to think about, yes?

There are many other types of holes, but unfortunately a fissure has opened up in my brain, making it hard for me to think of any others. But as far as that kid is concerned, I still really dont know how or why people fall into holes. And if I did know why, I dont think I would share it with him, he seems too nosey.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

The Wheels on the Van....

There once was a young lad by the name of Abraham. I say once because while he still lives on to this day, he is no longer a young lad. He is now middle aged by health standards because I honestly dont see him living past 50. As he was a young lad he was shaped like a pear, which is an odd shape for young lads. Most lads dont become pear shaped until after college when all the boozing and lack of exercise catches up with them. But his pre-pubescent pear shaped body, which I can only imagine turned into a manly watermelon shaped body, is not what will put the now unyoung non-lad into his early grave.

No, Abraham had a mouth on him that just wouldnt quit. Im not sure where he learned his twisted words. Im also not entirely sure why he had such an extensive vocabulary, especially for a young lad, but he did. As his years go on I can only conclude that his repertoire of dirty words has increased. Sooner or later, with an emphasis on sooner (or perhaps already), his words are going to get him into some proverbial hot water.

I am not sure what first drew me to Abraham. We were on the same van during my first year of Arrowhead Day Camp and at the beginning of the camp year I sat in the front of the van because I was new and young. Abraham sat in the front of the van because he would frequently yell things out the window to passing cars and pedestrians when he sat in the back of the van.

The first thing I noticed about Abraham, other than his pear shaped body, was his noticeable lisp, which when added to his mouthiness only made him more hated by adults. Abraham was a year older than me at the time, so in my eyes older meant wiser. In other words, he was a quasi-idol to me at the time.

Abraham had fairly dark skin because his parents were straight off the boat from Israel. Because of the influence of his parents language, he also had a little bit of an Israeli accent if you were really listening to him, although most people were too enraged by what he said to them to notice these things.

He had Moe shaped, jet black hair (more recently known as the "Pete Rose," and favored among "the gifted") that was never brushed and rarely neat. He always wore black t-shirts with black shorts that came to below the knee, even though the style of the time was short short running shorts and belly shirts, even for guys. His parents were probably trying to hide his pear shaped body, nothing wrong with that. He also always wore the whitest of white sweat socks pulled halfway up his calf, although one usually fell down by the end of the day.

Needless to say, after Abraham and I became somewhat close I started to sit in the back of the van with him. He taught me most of the curse words I now know and love to use. He also taught me the value of yelling obscene things out the window, and after that first week of sitting back there with him I was a seasoned pro.

In the morning the van would pick my sister and I up early on in the route and Abraham got on the van last. I eagerly waited for him to get on the van each and every day so the fun could begin. At the end of the day I would get dropped off first and the van would pull away with Abraham yelling something dirty out the window to me and my sister.

One time when my father got home from work early he waited for us at the end of our driveway. After we got off the van Abraham yelled, "You dirty pig fucker," out the window at my father, thinking that the van would pull away quickly. Unfortunately for him the driver sat there for a little while to let my father stew on what just happened. Before I could turn around completely and say good bye with an equally dirty remark my father jumped on the van and ran down the isle towards the back where Abraham was standing.

Abraham quickly climbed behind the back seat before my father was able to reach him. I first heard my father yelling at Abraham, telling him that no one of his age should use that kind of language. Then I faintly heard Abraham pleading with him to be left alone. My father exited the van smiling and proud of himself as a father should be.

The van drove off

Abraham yelled out, "you fuck dirty pigs, asshole."

My father actually called the van driver and got Abraham's parents telephone number. He called them and told them about their child's bad behavior. His parents then proceeded to yell at my father and called him a bully for coming after their son.

My dad told me never to sit with Abraham again. But I did.

For the next two weeks Abraham had to sit in the front seat because of the stunt he pulled with my father. While he couldnt yell out the window anymore because of his proximity to the driver, he still was able to annoy all by picking his scabs and his nose and putting it on all the little girls in the van, after which he would let out this menacing laugh, "heh, heh, heh, heh, *weez."

One of the days during his two week punishment I sat next to Abraham, as always, and he asked if I was able to roll my eyes up into my head. I had no clue what he was talking about so he showed me. After practicing the technique for a few days I finally got the hang of it and was proud to show off my new found talent to Abraham.

The next day on the van I showed him that I was able to roll my eyes back, so he thought we should have a contest to see who could hold our eyes back the longest. Not giving a thought to how we would judge the winner I said ok and we rolled our eyes back and held them there.

After a few minutes neither of us said a word so we just kept going and going. After about 5 minutes Abraham started squirming around a bit then started yelling, "MY EYES ARE STUCK, MY EYES ARE STUCK!!!" I unrolled my eyes and looked over towards this pear shaped young lad. His head was tilted backwards and he had tears streaming down his plump cheeks. He was using both of his hands to try to get his eyes to roll back out from the back of his head by quickly rubbing his nubby fingers over his closed eye-lids and his now stuck eye balls.

Abraham's screams startled the driver so much that she veered into oncoming traffic before quickly adjusting the van and pulling over to the side of the road. She quickly got out of her seat and turned around to assess the situation. Once she realized that Abraham was the problem she moved me out of the way and tried to calm him down.

The driver took Abraham off the van and poured some water into his eyes as all of us other kids watched from the opened van windows. He finally calmed down and his eyes straightened out. Unfortunately for the van driver the story is not over. After correcting his eyes he suddenly vomited all over the driver.

The rest of the ride to camp that day was quiet and smelly. To this day I couldnt tell you why Abraham's eyes got stuck in the back of his head, although he might have just needed to calm down.

Abraham and I continued to harass people for the remainder of the summer. The next year we both ended up on a bus rather than a van and the yelling, and pestering, and learning (on my part) continued.

Im not really sure what happened to Abraham after that, although I can only surmise that he got kicked out of quite a few high schools and probably a few colleges as well. He is probably a carpet salesman now, or maybe he owns Dr. Denim, who knows. All I can do is thank Abraham for the wisdom he entrusted with me and the skills he passed on.

Im going to have to look for his epitaph in about 20 years.

The Internet Needs to be Reset

There used to be a time when I could fill up a whole day with entertainment found on the internet. There used to be plenty of sites that had links to get games or photos or videos, but now most of those sites have gotten redundant and boring.

A site that I used to visit all the time was They used to post tons of hilarious clips of kids doing stupid things and bombs going off and other crazy shit like that. Recently though, this site has moved more towards showing off the beauty that is woman. While I dont have a problem with that in general, there are other sites that I go to if I want to see big tits and round asses, but more on that later, I promise.

Now you can find funnier stuff on Netscape’s homepage! Imagine that.

One of my all time favorite sites is This guy always had funny clips mixed with porn and every once in a while a gruesome death, which is always good to watch. Thankfully, he has managed to keep his site entertaining in that traffic accident kind of way, but there arent many other sites that can constantly keep me entertained. Plus, it only takes me a few minutes to get through his new content, so I have way too much time left to kill with the rest of the day still lingering in front of me.

This has led me to conclude that the internet is good for one thing and one thing only: Porn. That's right, the internet is for porn. Sure there is plenty of high speed communication occurring on the net, and sure that has changed the world, but is the internet used for anything more than it is used for looking at, purchasing, or jacking to porn? I think not.

And much like the real world, internet porn companies are forming huge conglomerates to help satiate any kind of perversion that you might have. The Time-Warner of the porn world? None other than the bangbros. If you dont know, let me educate you. They are the kings of getting some big dicked animal to fuck all kinds of women. You like big asses? They have assparade. Big boobies are your thing? Then visit boobsquad. Do you like big boobs and big asses? How about a visit to bigtitsroundasses. Would you like to crank it to moms taking it in the ass? Then they have momsanaladventure set up just for your pleasure.

All those sites are great, but there are two sites that stand out the most, at least in my book. The first is a lil place called tugjobs. Im sure the title is pretty self explanatory, but if you dont get it, basically you see a man from the waste down getting pulled on by a sometimes good looking girl. Most of these women originate from a recently hurricaned trailer park in Florida, so it is obvious that they need the money, and those are the good looking ones. Then we have the crack whores, who also need the money, but for a different reason. Crack!

The other site that I highly recommend gives new meaning to the word degrading: Much like tugjobs, on gagsluts we never see a mans face, just his huge, giant member. It is obvious that some genetic engineer out there is mixing human dna with grey whale dna to produce these freaks of mankind, but in order to get a slut to gag I suppose you need someone with a horse cock. I can only hope that these lovely young lady's had no clue what they were getting themselves into when they signed the papers to allow them to appear on this site, because it is brutal. But then again, bitches need to be taught a lesson when they are being bad, and what better way to learn 'em up than by having them choke on a big ole cock.

I guess I should add that I have never been a member of any bangbros site, and am talking about these sites after only having seen what they offer for free.

Because these two sites seem to be the most entertaining things on the internet these days, I suggest that we erase the internet and start from scratch. Believe me, I like porn as much as the next guy (and if you are one of these people who isnt looking at porn, why arent you? Those stories of hair growing on your palms and going blind have been proven untrue!), but I dont want porn to be the most entertaining thing on the web anymore! Innovation, please come back!