fucking swear

i swear this site is running more like a suicidenote.txt instead of what you kids call a web log

today i went to my doctor.

i told him i wanted to quit drinking but i couldn’t deal with out patientness or rehab. he told me it wasn’t his profession and could refer me to someone else who specializes in “alcoholism”.

i have to pay my $20 copay to visit the doctor for the 30 second “i can’t help you” lesson.

i didn’t drink before i went to the doctor to show him that i was’t just faking that i want some pills but apparently my shaking hands wasn’t enough to get a script for anything.

i hate you all

hope i die tonight

internet = me

after a day of bitching, complaining and screaming at timewarner, i am now back in the big party which is the internet.

a good contractor, by the name of Lincoln, calls and says “hey you need some help with your cable?”

he comes out, hooks me back up and we sit and talk for a bit.

he gives me some cards and says if we ever have problems with our cable to call him.

it’s all about alliances.

i told him if he ever needs drunk updates for his website to call me.

i dont have cards tho.

why isn’t toad online?

see, it’s days like this that make remember why i keep this site up. i’m laying in bed, too pissed and tired to even think about the day i have tommorow.

it’s time to vent.

stephen king said he used to write about murders so he wouldn’t commit them himself.

and i’ll say this about that.

today im enjoying a pretty decent thursday. i lay in my bed, almost noon now, more hungover then you can imagine, after being woken up at roughly 7am by ian and brooks, who is now back in town. i finally pull myself out of the sucidial downward spiral and walk into the living room to check the cell phone messages.

another day.

i install some programs on the newly formatted machine and kinda wait for work to come to me. i do some troubleshooting, send a few emails and then im sitting there reading fark when bam, all the screennames sign off.

troubleshooting begins as i check all 5 computers, all offline. i look at the modem, all the lights off. then i jump to the next step of troubleshooting. i remember the conversation i had with a timewarner tech roughly a week ago about how timewarner is doing “network cleanup”. he sees the rat’s nest of cables at our pole and says “im calling a manager”. I lol’d and went back inside.

now i’m not on aim anymore.

i run outside, barefoot, wearing blue pants and a blue and gray camo shirt, to see a white ford pickup pulling off. blazing on the side of his truck says “contractor of timewarner communications”.

outsourced hit men.

i flag him down like my wife has just been hit by a bus. arms in the air, in front of his truck, he can’t go around me.

and i quote.

“when is the internet coming back on?”

“do you have a bill?”

“yup, got it about a week ago”

“guess that’s your problem”.

and drives off.

my middle fingers come up and i entertain the thought of chasing after him in my car but i’d have to run all the way inside and get my keys.

no big deal, just a mixup, time to call timewarner.


it takes over 20 minutes to explain to the woman that we have the wrong address on our bill and that the contractor cut us off because he thought we were stealing cable. we signed a lease that says one address, we set our bills up on that address, then 4 months later, after the update where i kill my neighbers power, i realize i’m at a diffent address.

the timewarner contractor says “oh shit, this addresses don’t have internet/cable, but this one does, i better shut this other one off and ignore the barefoot maniac in the street”.

i hangup with the lady, who says the next day that i can have my service “transferred” is monday. today is thurday.
i call back on the desperate crusade of finding someone in timewarner who can have someone fix my service on friday, a normal business day, hell i’m working on friday… the tier 1 says they call you back with a manager but after you call, it’s 1am, no managers have called me back and i’m going to end up naked in the timewarner office tommorow.

now i could go without food, drugs, alcohol and water but not having internet for 3 days is not going to work.

i start to freak out, sitting in the middle of the living room, rocking back and forth screaming. website due the next day at 3pm is kind of a “deadline” and from what ive figured out, “web” designers need “web” to make design “web” sites.

now like any true drug addict, when cut off from his fix, he cleans. first thing i clean is my computer room. the computer room is a mess but it’s not my fault. it’s my roommate’s girlfriend who lives here, with her dog, which isn’t house broken. it’s chosen my computer room, and my bedroom, as a place to shit and piss.

it was long over due for a bleaching.

i bleach the fuck out of everything, mopping up all the bad memories of coming home to my office filled with feces.

it is now clean.

when the internet comes back i will be ready.

i do laundry.

so after all this happens this afternoon, valerie asks me if i want to drink whiskey tonight and offers to pay for it. it’s been a whiskey day so we stop at the local liquor dealer and get whiskey. mmm. we have a pleasant evening at come home.

oh wow, the dog has peed all over the clean floor.

internet still not on.

i’m going to now go lay down next to my girlfriend who probably thinks im in the computer room slitting my wrists. i’ll get a l33t few hours of sleep, then i’ll get the laptop and wardrive until i find a wireless access point spreading itself for me.

i’ll do my work for my meeting at 3, drive to my 2, walk out of my 3, pants around my ankles, loling that yet again, after the drugs, the internet and the whiskey are gone.

that i will kill every last one of you.

until i have them all back.


pizza delievery guys world wide

i fucking salute you.

most pizza guys are pot heads so they’re probably getting stoned as shit right now since 4/20 is about over but for the ones who don’t do drugs or drink, i tip my hat.

after dealing with the attack you’ve had to deal with tonight, i hope to god there is something you can do to relieve stress because you’re probably overdosing on it now.

ian ordered a pizza and i almost kidnapped the guy and forced him to tell me his “worst delivery” of tonight. like these guys already have to deal with stupid stoned assholes counting out $1’s but tonight it’s like probably 100% as bad.

the look on that guy’s poor face when i answered the door with “what the fuck do you want” face. that poor guy has gone on a vietnam type tour tonight of stoner fucks.

don’t worry tho guys, i appreciate you.

get out of my fucking lane

a lot of people know this but i’d like to rant for a second.

rush hour traffic isn’t the cause of too many cars on the road. that’s not the problem.

the problem is the 25% of idiots that don’t drive enough that get in the way of the rest of us who understand what lane is for what.

so during rush hour the 75% of us have to go around the 25%, which includes driving thru parking lots, etc.


pods own


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Mike: The are also rodent proof>
you: k, i’ll take that as a yes. how many families do you think i could cram in there? also, if i requested that the pod be dropped off in a ocean, would that require a specific address?
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after 4 years of freelancing i had a client offer me a salary position doing non website design work.

it’s weird.

im doing something else now.

i know, i know, i sold out.


but im doing it for a reason. i realized that i don’t want to work on anyone else’s website unless i really want to. kinda like changing the oil in your girlfriend’s car.

or paying for it at jiffy lube

so now that i have some guy thats going to pay me to do stuff on computers, i can come home every night and work on something i really enjoy working on.

you’re reading it.

pwned compusa

i got bored today after a meeting got cancelled and went did what i always do when i have time on my hands.

i lwalk around home depot.

after taking in all that i wanted to see, looking at the crow bars which were marked down to $4, deciding that it wasn’t quite time to replace my previous crowbar, dubed Thunder.

i leave home depot and head to office max and procede to add “gay sex” to the To Do list of all the PDA’s that were on display.

on to the mac section.

i do what i do on most computers, just load up crackhore.com and walk away. i get to the last computer, looking back at the row of crackhore’d computers when the comp usa guy asks me if i have any questions.

i back away slowly, not saying a word and quickly walk out of the store.


was driving down Sanga with Valerie today, a very fun road which in my youth i drove around with carelessness, which i take great joy in navigating at the most dangerous speeds possible.

a tow truck driver pulls in front of me and procedes not to take the sweet sexy corners of Sanga in which they were meant to be driven

this angers toad deeply.

how dare this tow truck driver hinder my favorite street of all greater memphrica.

we go another 30 years, i’m almost in tears about the lack of speed my car now has.

now in 3rd gear.

more anger.

then we see a Accord in the ditch to the right of us. this is not a common thing to see on the side of the road but people fuck up and slide off the narrow 2 lane roads.

then we see the windshield, totally smashed in, the front of the car totally compacted into the rest of the car, resulting from the impact with the driveway that ran across the ditch.

then we see the balding man, climbing out of car, blood covering his shirt, arms and hands. several cars are pulled over but no one seems to be helping him.