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September 2004

Like Wessel, Zam through Coruscant corridors.
i am a faggot | Monday, 09.13.04
[Warning: The following update is for nerds. It will contain nerdalicious ramblings that will make you say to yourself, "Jesus, what kind of nerdalicious ramblings am I reading here?" If you'd still like to follow along, I've included an appendix so you too can feel like a sloppy, greasy meganerd. So, please accept my sincerest apologies, and may the force be with you... nerd]

This is the greatest gift I've ever received. Even greater than the gift of life.
I have this weird affliction where I can't eat a meal unless I've found something to watch on TV. I'll flip through the 60 or so channels until I find a Yankees game, or a show where someone is having a hammer surgically removed from their face or a documentary about baby lions. Usually I'll have a drink in one hand and the remote in the other, sweating and frantically scanning channel after channel for something, anything, that will pique my interest for the 5 minutes it takes me to inhale a meal. Last night was no different. I'm sitting at the kitchen table with Rachel, scanning channels... 10 o'clock news, some flavor of CSI, ESPN... NO NO NO NONE OF THESE WILL DO AND NOW I AM STARVING. Finally I hit channel 50, A&E, and I saw three seconds of a Wookiee running down a hallway. Success. A 2 hour special about the making of Star Wars containing tons of footage that I've already seen and snippets of interviews with a bloated and cranky Carrie Fisher? Yes, this will do nicely, and now I can eat.

As a steady stream of saliva dribbled down my chin, I absentmindedly poked around the table for my eating utensil and started shoveling spoon/fork-fulls of food into my mouth. It's fucking Star Wars, man. Old Star Wars. Not these new-fangled prequel clusterfucks with their "I don't like sand because it's stupid and ugly1" and their "Oh my goodness, his midichlorine counts are OFF THE CHARTS2." I'm talking about the good old fashioned Star Wars with muppets and exploding models and Billy Dee Williams getting choked out by an eight foot tall monkey man and "With our combined strength we can end this destruc--

Rachel: --hn? John?
John: Huh?
Rachel: Did you hear what I just said?
John: Yes, sounds good, you should do that.
Rachel: God, you're really into this show, huh?
John: Do Ewoks shit in the woods?
Rachel: I have absolutely no idea. Just watch your stupid show.

Somewhere, a seemingly stable middle school guidance counselor is jerking off to this image. Thanks internet!
--tive conflict, and bring order to the galaxy." Star Wars is my nerdiest obsession, but I've become more of a casual observer over the years. Sure, my girlfriend bought me a $350 lightsaber replica for our anniversary, and yes, I own 3 separate copies of the original trilogy on VHS, but thanks to the internet, I can go to sleep knowing that my interest in the movies cannot compare to many of you fucking freaks out there. Would I strap my lightsaber to my belt and run around the town, making *vwoosh vwoosh* noises at passing cars and attempt to use the Jedi mind trick on a 7-11 clerk? Of course not. Well, not again. And if I did, this time I'd wear pants.

Star Wars is one of the few things I actually remember from my childhood. Every Christmas I'd get some kickass Star Warsd toy, like the Ewok Village or the Imperial Shuttle, and instead of recklessly throwing the ships around the room and into the family's fine China, I'd carefully observe the toys like they were the fine China. I'd set up all the Ewoks in their village, put Han in the human spit and C-3PO in his throne, and just stare at them like a mongoloid. Look, this was fun for me, ok? I didn't have enough of an imagination to create my own adventures, so I just re-created my favorite movie experiences on a much smaller scale. Although, I think Luke got to drive Knight Rider's car once, but such an extreme crossover rarely occurred, and was never repeated.

Did George Lucas rape all of our childhoods3? Oh, certainly. He's completely and totally insane, and his insanity is only overshadowed by his love of money and the size of his throbbing pork throat. The latest nerd fiasco involves the re-re-re-re-re-released Star Wars trilogy on DVD, now SUPER-ENHANCED with more crap we don't really care about, such as whitening Luke's teeth in every odd-numbered DVD chapter and digitally inserting a gigantic rotating horse penis onto Chewbacca's forehead for reasons unknown. Also, Greedo is now shooting first, second, eighth and last4. Am I still going to buy, what I've affectionately dubbed, the "Star Wars Super Enhanced Assraper Jumbo Cosmic Edition" DVD's? Yes. Why? First, because my disposable income allows me to tip $1,000 on an $8 hamburger at Applebee's. Second, and more importantly, I'm a slave to my obsessions. And if giving George Lucas $40 equates to him raping me up the ass, then so be it. I guess. I don't really think I care anymore. I just like the idea of an overweight man in a plaid shirt having his way with me.

APPENDIX
(for non-nerds / sexually-active folks)


1 During a touching scene in Attack of the Clones where Anakin Skywalker and Padme Whatsherface roll around in a field, Anakin says, "I don't like sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere. Not like here. Here everything is soft and smooth." Star Wars fan or not, this combination of words and punctuation marks created the gayest four sentences in the history of the world.

2 According to The Phantom Menace, Anakin Skywalker has a high "Midichlorian Count" which makes him the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy. It also gives him the power to whine, wet himself and pout like a bitch.

3 Many internet dwellers claim that the suckiness of the new prequels, combined with the tinkering with the old trilogy equates to George Lucas unexpectedly sticking his penis into their fond childhood memory orifices and raping the hell out of them. Over and over. Until they die. And they're right.

4 In the original showdown between Han Solo and the bounty hunter Greedo, Han kills him in cold blood. In the 1997 rerelease, Greedo shoots first, and Han kills him out of self defense. In the upcoming rererelease, apparently they both shoot at the same time, they both miss, and then they suck each other off.

 
If you find the words "retarded" and "cocksucker" offensive, this is not the update for you.
oh, and also, RETARDED COCKSUCKERS | Tuesday, 09.07.04
I have a love/hate relationship with the retarded man who rides his bicycle around Rachel's town; the one who pleasantly flips off random pedestrians and tells them to go fuck themselves. At first, I was taken aback, appalled and seven sorts of angry during my first encounter with the retarded man who rides his bicycle around Rachel's town. There I was, minding my own business, obediently obeying local traffic laws and avoiding accidents in my automobile. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see a man riding a bicycle, holding up his middle finger with proud certainty, as if to say, "Good morning good sir, and please do fuck yourself," except he didn't have to silently convey the sentiment, as he was more than happy to relay the message aloud. "Fuck you!" he said.

"Fuck me?" I thought. What did I do? I'm not going to let myself take that, am I? I returned the one-finger salute, and called the retarded man riding the bicycle a cocksucker. Oh, like I knew he was retarded. I'm sorry, I didn't know retarded guys came in a new and improved "aggro" flavor. Still unaware that the retarded guy that flipped me off was actually retarded, I stormed into Rachel's house. "Some guy riding a bicycle just flipped me off and told me to go fuck myself! Pack your shit, we're getting the fuck out of here!" I stated calmly. "Oh," replied Rachel, "that's just the retarded guy who rides his bicycle around my town, flips people off and tells them to go fuck themselves. He's harmless."

Harmless? Harmless? "Well, I called him a cocksucker and returned the bird flip, so I guess we're even now, that fucking cocksucker," I, once again, stated calmly. "You called a retarded guy a cocksucker?" asked Rachel. "Fuck that shit!" I replied, slightly more heated than before, when I was stating statements calmly. "The guy flipped me off, how was I supposed to know he was retarded?" Look, I get flipped off by a lot of people during the course of a day; it would be impossible for me to keep a running tally of those that are and those that are not retarded. Chances are a few retarded folks are going to slip through the cracks. This is Jersey! We flip off babies when they cry, we flip off dogs when they pee on the rug, we flip off the rug for getting pee'd on. Also, one half of the state's population is retarded, so you do the math, and don't forget to show your work and circle your final answer.

What started out as hatred slowly turned to acceptance, which slowly turned to love, which slowly went back to acceptance because love is a strong word and should only be used when referring to your mom and the lord god. So the retarded man likes to erratically drive his bike all through the town like a handicapped Paul Revere. Is that a crime? In this topsy turvey world, yes, it probably is. But in some states, feeding Cap'n Crunch to squirrels is a crime, and that doesn't stop the squirrels from eating Cap'n Crunch for breakfast every chance they get... they go nuts for the shit, and who can blame them? Does this mean I'll stop calling the retarded man a cocksucker when he flips me off thanks to my shoddy squirrel / Cap'n Crunch logic? Oh, heavens no. Chances are I'll accuse him of sucking cocks for years to come. Why? Because I'm treating him as an equal. That's right, I'm doing my part to make the retarded man feel like he's a fully functioning part of society by calling him a filthy cocksucker. It's like helping an old woman across the street and then stealing her purse after liquify her skull with a lead pipe. It's called equal opportunity, jackass. Welcome to the 21st century.

 

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