Category: TOAD NEWS FEED

Like a lot of sweat Midtowners, i went to the cooper young festival today. I didn’t bring my camera, and since i wasn’t really drinking, nothing really happened. Just scores and scores of beautiful and pierced women.

We were walking out of the Java Cabana and i told micaela that i wanted to fuck every girl in a 5 mile radius. Except her, cuz she’s not 18. And that would be wrong.

But gawwwwd, just everywhere you looked there were hot girls. I felt dizzy. Watching a girl chow down on a corn dog covered in mustard is probably the most erotic thing i’ve ever seen. I need to search Morpheous for “corndog girl” and see if anything comes up.

Walking around with Micaela in Midtown is always intresting. Every 15 minutes she runs into someone else she knows. Great part is everytime i’m introduced their like “ohhh you’re toad! haha i’ve heard a lot about you”

This makes me uncomfortable.

Of course no one can remember exactly what they heard about me. So their either hearing “Yeah, drug addicted pedophile” or “You gotta meet my cute friend toad”. Probably not the later..

Tonight Angie is dragging my anti-social ass to the hitone to see a band called Southern Bitch. May need to bring the camera.

And you. And the faggots that can’t figure out that thise little arrows on the concrete in a parking lot are there for.

You’re coming up to the Shnucks on Poplar. Yes, this grocery store, formally called Sessels, is not a “Snucks”. Anyway, you’re going to get food, you’re coming East bound so you gotta turn in front of, oh my god, 3 lanes of traffic!

Now if you look carefully, on the ENTRANCE there is a big white arrow pointing for you to come in there. Now like 80% of Memphis understands you pull in there. Every once in a while you get a super faggot that tries to pull out that way but it’s rare.

So you get in, crossing the 3 lanes of traffic. Now you gotta find a fucking space. This is where the disasters start. People get so confused once they pull in. It’s a confusing parking lot, i’ll give them that. But thats why the smart people at Sessels painted a little navigational tool for all their patrons.

I guess they can’t see the it from their lofty view of their SUV.

Poplar is like the ultimate IQ test. Today I’m driving down Poplar going home and this car starts trying to turn into the Starbucks. I’m looking up above her car with the big NO TURNING sign. I look in my rear view mirror and see the 4 cars, blocking the intersection, because this dumb bitch has to get her coffee. The best is watching the people behind you in that “hey look at this dumb bitch is doing”. You watch the brows turn, the look of disgust washes over their face as they slowly feel their life being drained by someone else’s ignorance.

i don’t even know what else to say….I should have turned with her, walked in, got in line behind her as she got her coffee. Smelled her perfume, watched what she ordered…..or maybe she was gonna go to the drive through. Then i could have followed her home.

Yay, server is back up, i can commence with my work and play. Since i’m at the office i can’t upload any pics. I don’t have any new pics anyway so it works out pretty well in the end.

Was a pretty boring weekend. Didn’t drink at all so most of the time was spent being loaded out of my mind and playing the piano. I can fuck it up with some Fur Elise and Deck The Halls now. All i gotta do is find a drum machine and i can start doing shows. My first song will be a industrial version of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I’m going to be auditioning for a lead vocalist so start practicing, hehe.

Hmm, you know you’ve been doing too many drugs when you wake up Monday morning, all sober and normal feeling and it actually feels stranger then how you feel after the 3rd bong hit. Oh well, guess thats why the call it the weekend anyway…

I had been talking about buying a keyboard for about 3 months. I dunno, after learning how to drive a manual transmission vehicle by just getting in it and driving around until it clicked has activated some weird fascination with the power of victory.

Maybe it’s the routine of my life. The work, drink, sleep cycle fucks with you. Except for the 2 weekly runs i sit in the same place doing absolutely nothing.

Most people would say enroll in school. I think it’s a waste of money.

I had been doing well with money recently, despite the addictions, so i said fuck it. Spent maybe a total of 3 hours playing with it throughout the night, part of which, was done in those hazy hours before i fall into my drunken coma.

I’d like to first state how confusing notes are. I hated learning this shit in mandatory music class and now im just as confused. The fact that sharp notes and flat notes are on the same fucking key, really really bothers me as a computer person. It’s right click or left click. Not sharp click or dull click.

Mommy, why does that man only have one mouse button?

Well Timmy, he’s a homosexual, their mice only have one button to show us that they are gay.

so around 7pm tonight i start paging chad, the guy im hanging out with, paging him with the msg “666”. After the 3rd time he starts really really getting worried. i paged him again with 666 while he was in the bathroom and finally i had to give in and tell him

i should have kept the joke going. i kept paging him whenever he left my company and then he’d freak out cuz he was getting 666 pages.

I finally told him since i felt sorry for him. he was sure it was someone else but i figured i rode it out long enough….

only one pic from tonight….here’s andy making a long island ice tea haha

I’m sorry, it’s just getting old. I’m in a weird time of my life. Ive been going out by myself, having a 3-4 drinks by myself, talking to whoever i run into or whoever has the balls to walk up and talk to me, driving home, having one last Corona and just having a good fucking time.

It’s been all about getting drunk by myself, going out by myself, just being the lone ranger of unsoberiety.

I’ve been waking up every morning and laughing at the crazy little adventures ive been getting myself into.

Now something is getting old.

It’s the gay guys.

So Friday night, i drink a bottle of wine, photoshop my face on Denerio, laugh uncontrollably for about a hour and decide it’s time to go drink by myself, with other people. I roll up to melange by myself, the gay black dudes hit on me. I drink more and leave.

Of course tonight has to slap me in the face again. After narrowly avoiding Sara in the parking lot, i use my teleport scroll and get to Melange. Since my entire sloth day didn’t make up for it, i have 3-4 drinks, pay for Ian’s tab and talk to Carlos while he spins.

Then the gay men show up.

This guy, long white beard, glasses, looks kinda like a college professor, sits down next to me. We talk about the music carlos is spinning, dogs(since he used to work at the humane society) when he asks me if i’ll have another drink. I’ve already had 4 makers mark and cranberry and can barely see.

He asks me if i want any company on the walk back to my car, which is about 50 yards away. I see where it’s going, tell him no and that i’ll see him next Monday.

I’m just not happy with this tho.

I am straight. I have Madonna mp3s. I listen to Moby sometimes. I like girls with cute butts. BUT I DON’T FUCK GUYS. I can’t figure it out. I love women more then life. The first thing i think of when i wake up, the last thing i think of when i go to sleep. There isn’t any confusion about my sexuality. The only confusion is that women think i’m gay.

Like the people who have met me in real life know that i’m not gay. They see me, they see me looking at girls, hell, they may even know one of my ex’s. I’m sure i don’t like guys.

Why do i emit this gay aura? I roll up into Melange and i’m staring at girl’s, throwing my hands up in the air, getting drunk, talking about how hot every girl in the place is. Then the gay men show up.

I feel bad, i talk to them. I love meeting random people, i love just talking, sharing energy, meeting anybody. It’s the true AIM of real life. Just talking to anyone. Just talking to anyone because life is too short to not talk to someone. I’ll talk to anyone.

It’s just starting to get old tho. A lot of guys can go out and have at least 1-2 girls come up and talk to them. I get guys.

Well, almost drunk enough to go to bed. I don’t think i’ve really expressed how sick of gay guys i am. You guys can cut my hair, be my best friend, but fuck. I WANT GIRLS! I LOVE UM!

BLACK GIRLS! WHITE GIRLS!

JUST GIMMIE UM!

I want all of them. Every one. If you’re ugly then get my drunk, come on. IM SICK OF GUYS, I WANT THE WOMEN!

I wake up every morning dreaming of my best friend’s 17 year old sister. If that doesn’t say i’m straight then i don’t know what else could. I would understand if i woke up in the morning thinking about how hot the hair dresser i talked to the night before but i don’t.

You won’t win God, i don’t fuck dudes.

I don’t care how much you keep trying to tell me.

I won’t let you win.

It all started with a bottle of wine, photoshopping my head on Robert Denerio, you know, a typical Saturday night. Then i shower, put on my favorite pair of pants and to to watch Barry spin at Melange.

This is when the devil took over.

I drunkley(sp) helped Barry carry in his records like a true DJ hoe and then proceded to have who knows how many cranberry and marker’s mark by myself while watching barry setup and spin.

Then the black gay hair stylists showed up.

These 2 guys, i dunno how they started talking to me, sat next to me and we discussed music, drinks and hair. They kept calling me Peter Pan becuase of my hair and telling me how i’m the cutest guy in the bar. I finally manage to pay my tab and i think i gave one of the gay dudes one of my business cards and i leave Melange.

Somehow i manage to drive to Neils, the indian burial ground of bars. I’m drunk as shit talking to eric and his girlfriend who i can never remember, buy Brad a happy birthday beer and fucking leave.

I think i threw up in the parking lot.

Barely remember what happened after that. On the drive home i got a Corona and sat outside with my new neighber. We talked about how cool midtown is, etc, he brings out a joint and then i woke up in bed this afternoon with marla begging to go outside and pee. I vaguely remember talking to my neighber and his girlfriend about how cool wireless access points are and how the internet is everywhere. God, fucking pot. Fucking corona. Fucking black dudes. wait no…

Gawd, why didn’t i bring my camera last night….

And of course tonight is old school Sunday. Not good.

Hi

All right, people? Well, first of all, my pseudonym is Blaze Handack (for the time being let’s be thus). I’m from Brazil and I’m a person who like comics, sci fi, cinema and vanguard literature. After years, reading and seeing very cool things in the kind, I put in my mind the idea of was my hour to contribute with this so fascinating universe that is the youth literature, therefore I created my characters, my subjects and universes, and started to write my stories.

As nowadays, to publish this type of material is enough expensive, I decided to become it public through more cheap and accessible current media: the Internet. Then made my site: UltramidiA (http://www.ultramidia.cjb.net.). Now, that the site is on line, and with much published material, I’m contact you to ask a great favour: I want you look the work, and despite the some English failures, in case you find that it is legal and worthwhile, arrange a little space in the Crackhore and do a small spreading.

I ask this aid, because is not possible for me to divulge by the traditonal meas, as much is that, I would like be placing new chapters on line every week, but due to the difficulties, only is possible edit new chapters monthly. I beforehand beg your pardon due my English failures, but want to clear, that despite the few means, what hinders me to pay propaganda, all the work is developed with devotion and professionalism.

I’m here waiting you help me. Be sure that not only me, but much people that likes the same thing will be very thankful.

Big Hugs

Blaze

I open my door and Marla pokes her head out and sees that we also have a new neighberhood dog also. Marla bolts out of my apartment, hair bristling for confrontation and tears ass into apartment. Now I’ve been cleaning all day, no shower, hair sticking up, unshaven wearing a shirt with a huge weird head on it.

I chase after Marla screaming her name as Marla inspects every room of her apartment, pees on the floor and almost devours her kitten. As i’m dragging my demonic dog out of her apartment she tells me her name, which for the life of me i can’t remember and asks me mine.

“Oh I’m Michael but my friend’s call me Toad. It’s a computer thing.”

I go back inside, load up Boys For Pele to give her some more moving in music and go back to work cleaning. Thats been the answer to my little internet problem today. Binge cleaning and mp3s.

I swear the only thing to do in this fucking city on Friday is get drunk or high. I have neither drugs or alcohol either. I’m about to go to Tracks out of total fucking boredom.

Last night i was searching images.google.com for “drunk” and looking at other people’s drunk pics for a change. It’s crazy how many millions of drunk motherfuckers upload their drunk pics that only seem really funny to them.

I guess i could probably stay in and work but fuck, working on a friday night is almost as lame as working on a saturday…blah….you know you’re really a bored motherfucker when feeding the dog becomes a whole little fun activity in itself. Most people open the can of food, dump it into the bowl and walk away. Tonight i’m heating her Prime Cuts(In Gravy) up in the microwave, adding Fajita Seasoning and putting a little piece of parsley in it. The way her tail is wagging like crazy makes me think she likes it…..

Blah, gonna go meet felix up at tracks, the alcohol must be consumed whether i like it or not.