defectivejunk

adadadily

nospam@example.com (NN) — Wed, 07 May 2008 21:15:14 -0400

Since the dawn of time, time has moved forwards. Then again, popsicles. Once upon a starkiss, I ate a tub of margarine. It's ok, it was fat free. And it tasted like popsicles. Earwax flavored popsicles. And popsicles .. are still marching on. This treat will soon be at an end, and now it's even sooner. And now it's even sooner. And now it's even sooner.

Did you ever buy a new hat? Boy I did once. That was awesome. Lost it though. That part wasn't awesome. I took a bunch of pictures of my underwear drawer trying to find it, but he never resurfaced. I wonder if he's buried in the sand somewhere in the middle of a rainforest. I would hate to be buried semi alive in the middle of a dense urban undergrowth that is bursting with pus and looks like Kenney Chesney. I got this wheel implant in my foot and it's kind of hurty. But I can go really really fast on sidewalks, but sometimes I crash into bodegas. It's ok the soda is only 45 cents a can there they made an exception. For once in my life, they made an exception. BUG PISS.

noooo

nospam@example.com (NN) — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 16:40:45 -0400

OK, I just came up with something evil. But, I like it because it saves doing that extra assignment every time

StringBuilder qs = new StringBuilder(); bool firstKey = true; foreach (KeyValuePair kvp in param) { qs.AppendFormat("{0}{1}={2}", (firstKey & !(firstKey = false) ) ? String.Empty : "&", kvp.Key, kvp.Value); }

wjw

nospam@example.com (NN) — Fri, 25 Apr 2008 13:26:43 -0400

Holy fuck, I had no idea Python uses whitespace to delimit code blocks. Fuck learnin that bullshit. Yeah, I love the idea that an extra space can create umpteen billion bugs in your code. Whoever decided that was a good idea should be
{
shot();
}

Book2: Chapter 16 - A Solitary Occupation

nospam@example.com (NN) — Sun, 20 Apr 2008 21:37:14 -0400

I was staring at a bowl of oranges in my car when the alarm went off. I couldn't make it stop. There weren't any alarm controls. I couldn't do anything at all. I stared as hard as I could at the dashboard. I bored holes in the quality Japanese engineering with my stares. That's when I realized: it was a tornado warning. My anger had manifested itself into a horrendous firestorm of nature's wrath. Except instead of fire, it was wind. Also the wrath was more of a really pissed off breeze. Also I wasn't too angry, but I didn't know that at the time. I was perfectly acceptable about causing a tornado in the middle of October. I could live with that, I thought. I could live with this tornado. I have to accept myself as I am, and if that me that I am spawns tornados in the middle of Halloween candy season, so be it. I'm a tornado spawner. That's when the bell rang in my head. I had to go. I heard a voice from a far away distance. It was drawing me in.

"Welcome to Museo De Tacos," it said hauntingly. "Would you like to try a Spicy Bean and Pepperoni Burrito value meal with guacamole strips today?"

I was captivated, but I couldn't respond. I'd never experienced anything like this before. The voice called me again. "Sir? Hello? Are you there? Is everything ok?"

I was enraptured. The voice seemingly cared for my welfare. It was amazing. I'd never had a voice put its own welfare after mine before. I knew, at this moment, that this was the moment. This was the most gracious voice in all the land. Until it spoke again.

It spoke again, but this time was different. The landscape disappeared with a dolly zoom of indifference. All was darkness. I was alone. I was sitting on nothing. I stood. But then I could no longer sit down. "You're losing them", it fearfully moaned at me. "You're loooosing theeeeem. You're disobeying all the ruuuules. They can't follow yoooooou."

I was terrified. I'd never had a voice turn against me so quickly. Sure, they all turned eventually. But not like this. NOT like THIIIIIS!

Suddenly a television appeared in front of me. The picture was snow. I turned the knob. Nothing happened. Except it broke off in my hand. Then the antenna broke off. Then a voice appeared on the screen. "Thou shalt not require prerequisites!" it screamed at me. Spittle flew out of the glass and hit me in the face. "Thou shalt not intentionally misdirect your readers!" I tried to wipe it off, but it took the skin of my face with it. I screeched in horror at the blood and skin on my hands.

"I should NOT have to take a class to understand you, sir! Pepperoni in a burrito? Who the HELL do you think you are to put pepperoni in a burrito?!" The voice had a point. I wasn't anyone that deserved to be able to put pepperoni in a burrito. I didn't have a good reputation to precede me. But I had done it, without thought or remorse. And suddenly, I was pissed off.

Who the hell was this voice. Who was this ugly, fat, mustachioed piece of SHIT voice who thinks he can tell me what to do. If I want to put pepperoni in a burrito, goddamn you fuck I'm going to do it. And I'll create a tornado, and run over a raccoon, and kill you, and rape your family. And one of these days I might create a clone of myself. So help me god. I'll do it. Do not tempt me. I will fucking do it, and you'll enjoy it.

I yelled "FUCK YOU, you .. VOICE. Who the fuck are YOU to tell me what I can't do. Get out. Just ... get out. Let me live my own goddamned life for once. Let me make my own decisions. LET ME MAKE MISTAKES."

"Fine. You want that? Fine. Here it is."

And everything returned. I was back in the drive up. I stared silently ahead for a moment. Then the voice returned. "Sir? Are you there? May I take your order or not?"

I cleared my throat. "Ahem! Yes, I believe I would like one of those pepperoni burrito value meals after all. Thank you."

And the voice over the drive up speaker answered. "Sir, we .. we don't have those here. We just have normal tacos and burritos and such. With beef and chicken."

And I looked up, and I saw that I was sitting at Taco Bell.

There was no such thing as a pepperoni burrito.

It was the most horrifying moment of my life.

Book2: Chapter 15 - Venison Beach

nospam@example.com (NN) — Sun, 20 Apr 2008 20:51:37 -0400

As I sat watching the carbon dioxide bubbles trying to escape from their soda prison, I wondered if I would ever be able to eat cheese puffs the same way again. I didn't feel comfortable being in the same room with a bag of that snack ever since I was assaulted by one – a mentally challenged bag of fiery hot fake popcorn. The kind that sticks in your craw the second you try to ingest any of its contents. The kind that makes you wonder what you're doing with your life. The kind you immediately regret.

That reminds me of this girl I knew back in school. I don't know her anymore, but when I did know her, her name was Epiphany. Her parents were a spaced out hippie from South San Francisco, and an uptight baker from the streets of Detroit. And a retired bank manager turned astronaut who grew up in Herzegovina. An astronaut, not a cosmonaut. Let's be exceptionally clear about this. I don't want there to be any misunderstandings and puzzled questions later because you missed out on some minor yet important detail here at the beginning of the middle of the story.

Anyway, her parents met in a pub the last night it was open in downtown Denver, Colorado. What happened that fateful night is forgotten to all but them, and now you. Once you have finished, please write me a letter explaining these events so the legend of the parents of Epiphany are not lost to the annals of history.

It was the dawning of the tenth millennium and the blue-toned great grandchildren of mankind were watching the destruction of the original planet Earth for the last time. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Approximately eight thousand and twenty years earlier, a weird narcoleptic girl was born after the coupling of two strange men, and one relatively normal flower girl. The moon was crescendoing in the eerie Midwestern sky, a single cell from one man was finding its way to a single cell of a female, and the Blair Witch Project was showing on HBO again. They couldn't get enough of that stupid ass movie. Here three people are siring a child and all they can do is watch that piece of shit. I paid like a dollar to rent it from the rental shop and I still want my money back. I could have bought a dollar's worth of poison for that dollar.

But I digress. I try not to, but since the cheesy assault I've been having more and more problems with staying on task. Like two days ago I was sitting in the bank drive up trying to write a check for five thousand dollars to pay my electric bill, when all of a sudden I started thinking nonstop about how Drew Carey is doing. I mean I wonder if he has any tv shows or other projects in the works or what. Is he just sitting at home all sad. Or maybe he walks his dog to the park and has this awesome kick-ass life I can only dream of even though he only had this mediocre sitcom on tv for a few years. Then I ran over a raccoon.

He didn't die, but gave me the dirtiest look I've ever seen a mammal whose fur looks like a mask give a human, outside of the Batsquirrel reruns on Nick at Nite. (There were problems on-set. Robin was played by an actual robin. And the Batmobile was an acorn with a sign taped to it that said "batmobile". These were mistakes they were making)

Suddenly, the bartender tells me to stop talking to myself. Look I'm not trying to be disruptive it's an unconscious habit I have when I'm typing. What do you mean only losers bring a laptop into a bar and write on their shitty great American novel. Yeah losers like Hemingway, if he had a laptop and an urge to drink margaritas at 5 pm and none of the good bars were open yet. Yes you heard me this place is a hole. No you get out. I'm tired of your attitude Frank. I know I broke up with your sister in high school. She wouldn't put out. You know this. You already know this information I'm telling you. She was so a slut. Every dude in school but me got a piece of that. Cmon man even the kid with no eyebrows. Yeah man that kid. The one that always wore the same orange shirt to class. Dude I know. That is the basis for my outrage.

Look I'm sorry man. I thought you knew about her. We're cool right. Nah I'll just stop for now. I hit a roadblock anyway. Can I get a Miller Lite. I've had hell of wine coolers and other fruity drinks already. Might as well stick with what's working.

But you don't have to take my word for it

nospam@example.com (NN) — Sun, 20 Apr 2008 11:10:34 -0400

I have finally reached the point where I can forgive Angelina Jolie for taking Brad Pitt away from Jennifer Aniston. It was a long arduous journey, but I think I'm finally there.

I had a long, tearful conversation about it with Batman last night, and he convinced me that it was for the best.

Earthquakes are the new American Idol

nospam@example.com (NN) — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 08:45:12 -0400

gimme a break already

I PREDICT A HUGE EARTHQUAKE

7.8 ON THE RICHTER SCALE

AT 3:45 PM

JANUARY 2

... 1990 oh wait

Book2: Chapter 14 - No Thought Was Put Into This

nospam@example.com (NN) — Wed, 16 Apr 2008 12:42:05 -0400

It was the night of Brian's funeral.

There was a kid in school that I never liked. One time he drew a moustache on my face with permanent marker. I wasn't asleep or anything. He and some bigger kids held me down in the bathroom. Then, later that day, he pushed me down some stairs and drew it on me while I was writhing on the ground. I got him back though. The girl I liked had a big crush on him, but he ended up marrying a fat chick and squirting out some kids. Serves him right. Jackass. I hope he owns a minivan.

I threw a watermelon at his head, and I threw a watermelon at his feet. I drew a watermelon on his stupid face, and I ate a watermelon in jail one time. I had a photocopied picture of him from our yearbook taped to a dartboard out by the alley. It fell off the tree I had him nailed to. The tree I nailed San Diego against. That won't make sense yet. I didn't want to hang him back up. So I decided to take a walk.

The moon was sighing wistfully amongst the clouds. He smelled like an old cheese grater: metallic and rusty. "Sigh. I wish I had a watermelon. But there's no watermelon in space," he remarked. I looked at him and shrugged. "Sorry dude. You want me to build a rocket and send you a watermelon? I work for a company that builds rockets."

"No .." he responded, "... no, that's ... that's ok."

I kept walking.

A couple of minutes later, he yelled back. "Th...thanks though."

I was walking down the road, walking down the road, and I saw an asteroid hit the sidewalk. It wasn't a meteor. Or a meteorite. It was an asteroid, from the asteroid belt, and he was pounding the pavement with his asteroid fists. "WHY! WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME WHEN ALL I DID WAS LOVE YOU!" He was pretty upset.

There's another kid I never liked. He used to do wacky stuff like steal my pen when I wasn't looking, or knock my books out of my hand in the hallway. I got him back though. He married some ugly girl and probably squirted out a couple of kids. Also, one time, I stabbed him in the head with a mechanical pencil. Serves him right.

The asteroid saw me and stopped. Then he yelled again. "MY ORBIT IS APPRECIABLY PERTURBED! I'VE HAD ENOUGH!"

I had to respond. "...You're high. ...Or possibly crazy."

"Hey buddy, I'm not the one seeing a talking asteroid on the sidewalk."

"Touché, asteroid."

It was the afternoon of Brian's funeral. I was in his hometown. Everyone had just left the cemetery. I went off by myself to a chain restaurant to eat lunch. In case you've never had to eat by yourself in a restaurant, let me tell you this. It's boring eating by yourself in a restaurant. So I was sending messages and checking things from my phone. You know, things. Just things.

Some redneck saw me and laughed with his redneck buddies. "BEEP BOOP BEEP BOOP. Haw haw haw haw haw!"

I looked up, but I immediately looked back down.

"Hey I'm important, look at me with my fancy toys, I'm too good for you!"

"HAW HAW HAW HAW"

I didn't look up.

"People always in here sending messages, you wanna talk to somebody, go CALL EM AT HOME."

The laughing stopped. They shifted uncomfortably in their Wranglers.

I paused; closed my eyes, and slowly opened them in his direction.

I was not in the mood for this.

After all. This was a bad day. All around. I'd just left my friend's funeral, because he'd killed himself, because – in my mind – I'd forced him to go out to lunch with me, which let to us getting in a fight with some idiotic people in a restaurant.

"This is a place of business, not a hangout for

STUPID FAGGOTS"

I rose. I picked the man up by his neck, and guided it through a plate glass window. One second the window listed some dinner specials - meatloaf, chicken salad, watermelon slices. The next second, there weren't any more specials.

They say he bled to death in the hospital. I wouldn't know. I never went back to that state.

Serves him right.

angst is a podcast, a weekly subscription

nospam@example.com (NN) — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 10:21:22 -0400

I used to live in the Land of the Dragons. It was a five mile walk to the grocery store, and every so often a mini dragon would nip at my heels, or breathe smoke on me. Then, its mother or father would groan and yell in my direction, so I would starting running and running faster and faster. I didn't have a car. Everything was bad, and the other people in the land stuck together. But only with themselves.

I got tired of living among Dragons. I decided to buy a car and drive to the Land of the Dinosaurs. Then I decided to move there once, in a dream. So I did. There was a ring of mushrooms living around the border, and they were excited to see me. They welcomed me, and patted me on the back, congratulating me on my arrival, on my decision.

Everything was fine for a while. But then I turned invisible. The mushrooms couldn't see me anymore. They didn't speak to me anymore. The dinosaurs weren't very scary. All of the scary dinosaurs had died off a long time ago. All that was left were plant eaters. Things were pretty boring and bland, but it was pretty easy living there. But I didn't like it.

One day, I saw a nacho chip standing in the middle of the street, wide eyed. I honked at him to move. I was in a hurry. But he just yelled "hey you!"

I yelled back "what?! move it!"

He said "..this place sucks!" And he disappeared.

And I can't help wondering where he went. I wish I could follow him.

But I don't know how to disappear.

pillar is crumbling

nospam@example.com (NN) — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 15:14:48 -0400

MS has been dropping the ball all year. They need to get back in the game. And get devs to release some more games. I guess there are more coming later in the year, but that's not really going to do them any good right now. Sony is still catching up, and that's never good. Especially with MGS4 coming out, and nothing to counter it on the 360.

I don't see how GTA4 can help or hurt either system. Of course, ideally more people would buy 360s to play it, but if they can't find one they won't. And most people won't know about/care about the exclusive DLC, so that won't affect their decision.

They need a lot more supply of Premium systems in retailers. In like the next two weeks. And they need a price drop at the same time. Not going to happen, of course. Sony is going to benefit from the launch of GTA4 by default.

Not to mention that their bribes and kickbacks to Warner Bros. have really been paying off for them because of the idiot fratboy crowd (who wants to watch BluRay movies on their 27 inch SD tv that's hooked up with the only cables included with the PS3 - composite.)

urethra infection by honeybees

nospam@example.com (NN) — Sun, 13 Apr 2008 15:57:38 -0400

buzz buzz buzz it's quite a hot topic

that i've got this huge pustule in my weiner

it probably has a billion germs on it

more on it as it develops

kock and ley

nospam@example.com (NN) — Fri, 11 Apr 2008 21:16:08 -0400

words words words USB FLASH DRIVES THAT

TASTE

LIKE
CEMENT

in your bathroom
your own home bathroom
i boned you in the butt

THAT'S JUST OUR LEMON POPSICLE DAUGHTER AND HER COLLEGE OF JELLY DONUT HOLES

a a a a achoo

nullable

nospam@example.com (NN) — Fri, 11 Apr 2008 13:47:42 -0400

Why no "??=" operator in C#? Anyway, it's not like I can Google it. Maybe there is one, or some reason there isn't.

women can have babies

nospam@example.com (NN) — Thu, 10 Apr 2008 21:29:12 -0400

Once upon a time, shut up. You heard me, Coltrane. I'm sick as hell, and I'm not gonna take it anymore.

And so on.

color: left

IT'S A LONG SHOT, BUT I THINK I'LL TAKE HER IT

This burger was talking to me in my sleep last night. It was plotting against the spaghetti. He said the spaghetti was after me, and my pocket noodles. Spaghetti doesn't like pockets. It can't be contained by mere flaps of flesh. Flaps of velvet. Flaps of cotton. There, that's better. Cotton. The other white meat. I enjoy it. I enjoy things. Except this cold. I made love to it last night. I named my comforter "Prince Fartface". He didn't like it. I called him "Farty" for short. He didn't like that either. He tried to strangle me like a rented chainsaw. I didn't like that. I cut him in the testicles. Right in the testicles. He didn't enjoy that either. Then I cut a rug. The rug was mad. But he couldn't talk so I couldn't tell. Maybe he enjoyed it. I doubt he enjoyed it.

Back to the spaghetti. Lets not. I'm hungry. I want some texas toast. What do they call it before it's texas toast. Before it's toasted. They call it texas toast. They don't call it texas bread. They start calling it toast immediately. That's not fair. That's not fair to the other toast. Why do they have to do that. Maybe I want a peanut butter and jelly texas sandwich on regular bread that isn't toasted. Maybe I'm on a no toast diet. But no. You can't do that. That's not allowed. You have to toast it or the universe will go haywire. The universe will go haywire and a nebula will rape a quasar and the poor little quasar will cry and cry and cry until it grows up and is 25 and yells at me on a date. I can't help it. I'm sorry. The light from you just got to earth from billions of years ago. Give me a break. Here we go. Nachos. They taste too nachoy. Hey that's not a word, said the quasar. Then she threw a vase at my head. It hit me in the head, and I died, possibly. Then I ordered a taco. Taco taco taco taco. They brought two of them. I had to call them back and ask them to pick up the extra. I didn't want to be a cheat. But they said it was ok. I said no it's not ok. You brought me an extra taco. I didn't pay for this taco. You're running your business into the ground. I don't want to be arrested. I don't want to be arrested for stealing a taco. I could have paid for two of them. I just didn't feel like eating two of them. But they said it was fine. They didn't want to deal with it. It wasn't fair. They didn't want to deal with my second taco. Sometimes it's too much. Sometime I hope I find someone. I hope she will pay attention to my extra taco. That's all I ask. That's all I really want.

dadadaily dadareturns

nospam@example.com (NN) — Tue, 08 Apr 2008 22:10:30 -0400

nothin else to post, soooooo ... we doin this.