Oh god not counterfeit handbags!

In Beijing thousands of vendors from street markets are shouting at Trademark lawyers, "Petty bourgeois bastard." When will companies realize complete exclusion of others from markets means that millions go hungry. "Oh, we're losing profits," they say. Yet if anyone purchasing those handbags could afford the real thing they wouldn't be buying knock offs. What about the positive externalities created by forgeries supporting the poor? what ignorance pervades the world.

Anne Coulter: Fuel for the Fire

I just participated in my first book burning... I know, I know. Book burning is bad; too many memories of Hitler dredged up by those types of actions, generally speaking. But no, this is different. It's cold, we don't wanna use anything useful for kindling, so we look around and a friend says to me, "I'm gonna make fun of you every time I come over for having Anne Coulter on your bookshelf." The funny thing is in 2004 I bought a whole bunch of books from the whole political spectrum, so I gave her a chance. Not only is she a royal bitch, but everything she says has only one purpose: to perpetuate the ignorance and narrow-mindedness of like-minded folks who have no other purpose in life but to perpetuate the very greed and stupidity that has resulted in the horrible situation in which our great country now finds itself. Thanks for helping me catch my logs on fire Anne. If I had known you were this useful I would have done this a long time ago. Burn baby, burn; yeah, that's it. Burn.

With Renewed Vigor

My past attempts to create a blog have failed almost completely. While I've managed to keep some semblance of a daily journal, there are many topics that I've failed to write about. I need a place to rant and rave, say things I might not necessarily mean, and generally take the Freedom of Speech as far as I can by saying things that should be said, but generally are not.

At the moment I am in my last semester of a 6.5 year college career; things are hectic, classes are hectic, I'm getting married, I'm doing my best to organize a Student Rights Week, etc. Yet I still need to find time to say things such as:

• Michael Phelps is my hero; the man won 12 gold medals in the Olympics and still gets high. The only reason people are mad at him is weed is illegal, and the government has spent ridiculous amounts of money on b.s. advertising, a.k.a Office of National Drug Control Policy's "Above the Influence" ads in Comic Books. For instance, one ad says in big letters, "BECOME A TV REMOTE CONTROL OPERATOR!" and then, "Hey, not trying to be your mom, but there aren't many jobs out there for potheads." Oh?Really? Could someone be full a' shit? Let's focus on something actually important people. Also, when I'm reading comic books do they really think I'll heed any such recomendations?

In conclusion, I agree with Thomas Jefferson. "I have sworn to God, upon an alter of truth, eternal hostility, towards tyranny over the mind of man."

Stitched together

As my buddy rushed me to the hospital, I realized what awesome friends I have and what a shit I've been to them. I mean, I had tried to be good and get dishes done, you know, clean up and what not. Glass breaks- cheap housewares- and cuts the fuck out of my hand. So after wrapping it up, pouring alcohol on it, and taking a binger, I was on the way to the E-Room. In this case, the e-room was no fun.
Thankfully, I had stopped by the comic store earlier. Killed some time and took my mind of all the crazy sick fuckers sittin around me. When I finally got the stitches, I was well ready to get the hell out.
So im sipping bourbon and thinking, what thoughts or emotions have I had recently that are worth writing about? Sure, the primaries are going on. But I really don't care since Bush is bye bye. Besides, I can't be honest about my life on the net.

To a Prosperous New Year

I was going to write an entry on my computer for myself, this last admission of this past year. But I thought, if I can't be open about life then in no way can I ever approach my mission to write for the masses. So here goes.
Tonight is time to rage. Party like all hell- go ahead and don't be ashamed. Let loose the Dionysian wine monster and move around like a lizard. Yeah. That's what I'm talking about. But why am I going there? And where would I have been that would give me the slightest argument to support this? It's been one hell of a year. I never worked so hard in my life for such little scholastic reward. Perhaps I learned how to be a student, though. However, I care not. I now know my calling: fun, love, passion, and comics. I want to live and travel, and cherish every moment I have left of life because this world seems to cruel to let anyone go that far for long. So cheerio blog. On to more writing and drawing!
Happy New Year All!!! May all be prosperous and peaceful!

A throbbing pain

Elusive love hiding like a hare,
Heat of passion chasing a debt.
Pay the piper and fall to the pulse of longing,
or run away to reckless abandon?

First the hill....

Ahhhh, to give man-birth to something that can grow with me as I unleash the fury that is my life. In the past two days a lot has happened. I had my second shot of cortisone in my lower spine, missed all my classes yesterday, freaked out on my mother, and freaked out on one of my roommates. Shit, I am a big dick to the people I love most. Does that happen to other people? Life is great, then shit is flung in one's face, and boom, the acrid gas that follows just unnecessarily offends everyone in the immediate vicinity.
Each time, after I calmed down, I was able to think clearly again. For instance, the threat, "I'll just find a new place to live and you can find someone else to live upstairs!" has dissipated like dirty undergarments thrown in the wash. Well, now I must wash my hands of the homework I have not done.