joeblog

hideous hooligan
Shecky. Chicken Breast and Pork side ribs R 1.88 a pound a Food Basics! I gotta take a shower and load up…

BuCkSaTaN >:)
hoo boy

hideous hooligan
U to can come home with a Huge bag of breasts and Ribs for cheap!

BuCkSaTaN >:)
great!

hideous hooligan
Make a Costume out of the Meat and that can be yer halloween costume

BuCkSaTaN >:)
You should!

hideous hooligan
the Meat Man…

BuCkSaTaN >:)
Then you can walk into a neighborhood full of pit-bulls and see if you make it to the end of the street alive.

Sitting on the shitter, reading Henry Miller – the Indian bidet tale from “Tropic of Cancer“. Jazz wafts in from the kitchen radio, a soothing backdrop to an otherwise hectic day. I fall out of the book and into reverie. My eyes continue to move across the page without absorbing a single word. A hot calabrese salami sandwich and a Corona. That’ll make a fine lunch.

——-

“For some reason or another man looks for the miracle, and to accomplish it he will wade through blood. He will debauch himself with ideas, he will reduce himself to a shadow if for only one second of his life he can close his eyes to the hideousness of reality.”
- Henry Miller

Dear “Toronto Star“,

Stop calling my fucking cell phone and offering me a subscription to your newspaper. I don’t know how you got the number, but I get at least one phone call a week from some shlub in your subscription office.

I do not read your newspaper.
I do not want a subscription to your newspaper.

Get me off your phone list or I shall mount a retaliation campaign to call your newspaper every day and harrass you with my web services until you do.

Sincerely,

Joe Deagnon
joeblog

When I first went with Primus Canada as an alternative to Ma Bell, it was mostly because of the long distance plan. Primus’ long distance plan is the best one there is! Unfortunately, they somehow forgot to hook up my call answer service when I switched lines/services.

I called and I called and yet no one at the company could seem to perform the simple task of turning on my voicemail feature. You know how long it took them to get it running? Six months. I know that may seem like a long time to you, but they’re a very big company and they’re probably very busy with other phone related business.

Anyway, eventually, they got it running, god bless them. The only problem now is that, in the process of getting my voicemail working, my voicemail notification is non-existent in the phone menu. (You know, the stuttering tone that alerts you that someone called.) It just doesn’t work. For that particular feature I have been waiting a full year. (This August). I am not kidding! I had to call them at least ten times to remind them to get it operational. Every time I called, a nice Middle-Eastern chap assured me it was working before I hung up.

Oh well, I can just remember to check for messages, myself. If I need to be reminded to check my extremely urgent messages, well, they wouldn’t be very urgent to me, now would they?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, but gee, I hope they really get around to hooking it up one day. That reminds me. I should really get around to paying their bill.

Usually when life gets me down, I find a nice horrific disaster movie to watch. Films such as “Titanic“, “Alive“, “Twister“, “The Perfect Storm” or the like because they are the perfect antidote to depression and/or pitiful self-loathing. These horrific tales are not cathartic because the film’s characters have been subjected to nature’s fury, hence, it brings out the hero’s indomitable spirit against horrendous odds, oh no… It’s because as human beings, I believe the only thing we naturally think, when we watch a horrific “Act of God” scenario, is “Thank Christ it wasn’t me!”

I’m not about to bitch and whine about my problems here since I don’t feel the need to direct my angst and misery at anyone or anything but it’s source, but I will drop a URL on y’all so that we all may read the woes of others and think, “My life is peachy fucking creamy! What have I got to worry about!?”

http://www.mymiserablelife.com/

Read a few stories on this site and tell me you don’t put on a tu-tu, go skipping tra-la-la down the street, smellin’ the roses, with a lollipop sticking out of your ass.

(How real these stories are is anybody’s guess.)

I can’t remember if I wrote this in some drunken haze or if someone else jotted it in my sketchbook as I do not recognize the handwriting. If you are the author of this nightmare, drop me a line and let me know.

“Man running frantically through back alleys trying to escape the reality that is crashing down on him as he is progressively seeing more clearly. As he tries to run faster, he slows down; people around him becoming shapes with horrific images of their sin wrapped around them. Buildings revert to their past facades, objects disappear and new ones reappear. The line between past/present, good/evil, night/day blur, melt, destroy and cancel each other.”

Pretty happy stuff, but it went well with the artwork of a demon I was developing, hastily sketched in, beside this passage. I’ll post a more refined version of that drawing when I get some time.