the kitchen sink

Check this shit out, Sock Drawer! Sorry I didn’t rap at you guys yesterday, but I had a lot of shit on my mind, and I wasn’t in the mood. I know, that leaves a two and a half minute void in your day that can’t be replaced and for that I’m so, so, so terribly sorry.
I’m gonna make it up to you guys today though. I’m gonna go through everything that makes this blog great all in one entry.
First, let’s see what’s in the news:
Oh look. That evil man who helped young people who weren’t ready to die in childbirth or deal with having horrendously deformed children was heroically gunned down by some jesus toting mongaloid hero. Okay, okay, okay. Look. Yesterday I listened to interviews with a bunch of that doctor Tiller’s patients, who all, to the last, described him as a compassionate and kind man and each of them emphasized how important and valuable his services were in terms of them keeping their lives together. I don’t know, man. That shouldn’t even matter, honestly. The guy was doing his job, his legal job and he was doing it ethically, and you can’t just go fucking shooting people, man. I mean, even if you ignore the ‘turn the other cheek’ advice from your big, dumb old book, even if you are a fundamentalist Christian asshole who hates abortions and all that, isn’t this murder the EXACT same behavior that all the conservative keep-jesus-in-america types are absolutely going apeshit about when muslims do it? Just killing infidels just for the pure sport of satisfying god? I mean, COULD YOU FUCKING PEOPLE BE ANY MORE TRANSPARENTLY MORONIC? I guess that’s the thing though, if you abort the fetuses with all the horrible mental defects, well, who’s gonna pick up jesus’s (or Mohammed’s, for that matter) torch and continue the crusade against fags, abortions, brown people, science, evolution, rational thought, critical thinking and dinosaurs. Good. Good for them. I’m glad they killed the guy. Next up! Carl Sagan. Oh, he’s dead? Um, Hawking? How about just anyone who reads then? Good.
On to lighter issues…Let’s rap for a second about a great and criminally underrated punk rock album. Of course I’m referring to Kingwood by Millencolin. Yeah, it’s about 3 or four years old and yeah, they put out another record since then and yeah, they’re kind of a wacky band on paper (“sweedes singing ska songs about food” is something they’re kind of saddled with in the press) but dude, Kingwood is a BAD ASS record. I think there’s two or three bad songs, and the rest of them are just killer. I mean, if you like a band like the Lawrence arms, (which you really don’t have to in order to read this blog…but just saying, for simplicity) check out Kingwood. It’s definitely a stand alone record in their catalog, and it alienated lots of their diehard fans for that reason, but it didn’t make em any new fans, because, well, no one who’s a beardcore hipster wants to give Millencolin a chance. That’s the shit that little brothers listen to, man. But ANYWAY, It’s not a ska record, it’s not silly, it’s fucking blazing and it’s awesome. If the bridge of the first song doesn’t fucking wow you, well, I don’t know what to say. Anyway, you wanted music requests, Sock Drawer, there you go.
Next up: Something about drinking.
Um, when you are at a bar and you order a series of drinks, (and while this is always true, if the bar is empty, then usually it’s not a big deal, but if the bar is busy AT ALL, it’s very important) when the bartender comes back with your drinks, that’s it. Your turn is done. Oh, you want some water? Should have fucking asked for it. Oh, actually you need six O bombs now too? Well, fine. Just wait until everyone else gets their drinks. Your turn, once again, is over. It’s the social equivalent to bogarting a joint. Oh, and men, quit drinking diet soda. It’s so fucking pathetic and sad. On another note, High Life has recently become too sweet for me. I don’t know what exactly to do about it, but for now, I’m drinking Tecate in cans. I think it’s a pretty good alternative. Just sayin.
Next-Celebs! God that Spencer Pratt is dreamy, isn’t he? I just want to eat him right up. Oh man. Yeah, wow. Um….What’s he famous for, again? Being fake married to that ugly trailer park skank who got all the surgery and now she looks like Donald duck? Huh. Good for him. Good on ya, Spence!
Next up! Um…what else is there? Oh, I should mention felching or butt fisting or something like that right? Jizz, a request for some more jizz themed talk in the sock drawer (I mean, live up to your name people!) and some fucking dong/rack/clam shots, and I guess I could mention something about child rearing. My baby is almost walking. It’s wigging out our dog pretty badly. This is one of those tense situations, for sure. For now, they’re being kept separated, which is hard, because the kid just LOVES the dog. The dog just can’t seem to understand that the kid is on his side, and you know, if he fails to understand that HE will become a side…dish, in korea. OOOOOH! SNAP! NO I DI’INT! Just kidding. He’s not going to korea to become food. Worst case scenario, we’re gonna just set him free in the woods, like a pet rabbit or turtle. Chihuahua’s can thrive in the wild, right? Okay, good.
And finally!

Check out this advice query:

Q
About two and a half years ago I met a girl who drastically changed my life for the worse. I was an innocent 17 year old when I met her(I had never smoked, drank, had sex, or anything else). In my relationship with her we dated on and off literally about ten times in those two and a half years. We have ended our relationships because of cheating, drug abuse, etc. All of these breakups came because of things she did wrong. She did truly love me and I completely loved her. I sacrificed thousands of dollars, my guitar, my ipod, my gas, my car, my life for her. I even bailed her out of jail and was planning on dropping out of school to help support her because she had nowhere to live. I found that I lost who I was before I met her. I now find that I have had a drug addiction, I had sex with her, I now smoke and drink very frequently. She has hurt me so badly and this pain just never seems to go away. Since I have known her four of her exboyfriends have attempted to commit suicide because of her dumping them for me. Nowadays I havent talked to her since new years and I doubt I will again, but these memories and this pain still hurts as bad as it ever did. I hate that I have given her everything and got nothing but a new version of myself that I dont like. So my question is...How do I rid of this pain and these scars that seem to haunt me everyday and can I ever be as proud of myself as I used to be?

A
Firstly, jesus Christ, man…are you living in a soap opera? I mean, you could probably be more dramatic, but I’d be very hard pressed to figure out exactly how. Fuck, man, I get it, you’re nineteen, you’re heartbroken and you’re angry, but you’re disguising it (pathetically) as sorrow and you’re blaming your entire life on some girl. And you’re making everything (and I mean EVERYTHING) seem like it’s her fault. Wow. You’d be fun to date. I wonder why she dumped you?
Hey boss, newsflash. EVERYONE gets heartbroken when they’re nineteen. Not that this makes anything any easier to deal with, and I don’t like to just play the ‘suck it up, it happens to everyone’ card for no reason. I’m making another point. She dumped you. You’re bummed. BUT, she didn’t make you do drugs or have sex or any of that shit. I mean, look, if not her, it would have been someone else who came along with a bong/set of tits whatever. It’s not her fault you wanted to do those things, because you did. You wanted to, or you wouldn’t have. For example, if she came along and instead of asking you to do drugs she’d asked you to suck her brother off, or kick some puppies or stuff a snake up your ass, you wouldn’t have done it, because that’s not fun, or exciting or interesting (well, it’s interesting, I’ll give you that). Point being, you did drugs and got laid, and you feel guilty because you’re used to being a child, but now you’ve got some grown up things going on and you’ve been conditioned to think they’re bad. But SHE didn’t do any of this to you. YOU DID. YOU ARE THE REASON YOUR LIFE IS HOW IT IS. NOT HER. ANY SUGGESTION OTHERWISE IS
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Get it? You’re mad and you’re young and you’ve never dealt with being so emotionally and physically bound to someone, and that’s a bummer when it goes south, but get off the fucking cross, man. You sound like such a pussy. “How do I rid of this pain and these scars that seem to haunt me everyday and can I ever be as proud of myself as I used to be?” What? Back when you were a little kid? What the fuck does that even mean? You’re a man now, buddy. Act like one. You’ve tried some drugs. You’ve had some beer and some pussy. Good for you. Don’t act like you’re some sort of crackhead who’s sucking dicks out behind Tile Outlet, because dude, you aren’t. Everything’s fine. You’re heartbroken. It’s one of the worst feelings you’ll ever go through, and it sucks. I sympathize, believe me. What’s my advice? Dude, this shit just takes time. Don’t blame your life on her, for one thing, don’t worry about the fact that you’ve had sex and tried pot for another, and finally, get out there and live. Go to the gym, hang out with some friends and for fucks sake, keep yourself away from this chick. Eventually, shit will become easier to deal with. I promise.
Sorry to sound harsh, I know this shit is rough, but you can’t blame her for your problems, man. You can’t. It makes you sound like a pussy, and it’s deeply deeply impacting your ability to begin to move on and get rid of the pain and scars, or whatever the fuck you said. Good luck. The rest of you, start posting those nudes. I’ll be back to check on your progress in a bit.
BK