The Obligatory

It's Saturday night and I'm at my parents' watching the History Channel. I just sent a text message to my girlfriend about the hilariously large amount of Valtrex commericals one sees on a Saturday night while watching the History Channel, as if the only people watching a special on the Bermuda Triangle on a Saturday evening are in need of such a medication and if they would only purchase said med then they could finally get laid and never have to "learn" about the difference between Black Holes and White Holes (no pun intended, I think...). Not only does that marketing idea seem contridictatory to the interests of the History Channel (once one purchases Valtrex and fixes their nasty outbreaks of pussing genitals sores they will then, in theory, be able to break free from the confines of their home and hopefully go out and have lots of safe sex thereby no longer watching the History Channel, unless they are picking up mates in nerd bars that fix their sets to that station), but it's also a misnomer because I don't need Valtrex. Yet. Plus, hearing the words "genital herpes" over and over while watching t.v. with my parents tends to get a wee bit awkward.

FUCK. I just had a crisis of faith which is going to make me interrupt this blog. That's what happens when you type while watching television. Okay, so I'm still watching the History Channel and texting the girlfriend from my parents' living room and an AT&T commercial comes on promoting their wireless world or some bullshit. And guess which band I hate is starring in this commercial? Mates of State. Yeah, couple rock, not cool or fun or exciting at all. I don't want 'em in my wireless world, fuck that noise. You don't take sand to the beach. Therefore, this married-rock nonsense has got to end. So I see these happy cheese dicks singing and drumming and keyboarding while idiots in the crowd dance with their cell phones and enjoy the wirelessness of it all, or something, and I'm all to myself, "Yep, that confirms that. Mates of State are blowing it and this reaffirms my deep seated annoyance and hatred of everything that they are." Then what happens? Why the crisis of faith? Oasis's "All Around the World" IS THE FUCKING CLOSING JINGLE FOR THIS FILTH. So what's that mean? Do I hate Oasis now, too? Should I love Mates of State? Would I be a hypocrite for not changing my opinion on either band because of this collision of worlds? I don't think so. Mates of State have always been fucking up just by being themselves. Oasis have always owned just by being themselves. So then should I at least have some respect for Mates of State due to their keepin'-it-real ability? Maybe. But not a whole lot. If your realness is wack then you might as well be fake. If you ever catch me liking that band I'll pack a suitcase full of sand from Lake Calhoun and move to Fort Lauderdale. Crisis of faith averted. My moral compass is rooted deep in a system of spite and stubborness.

So my girlfriend's response to the whole Valtrex/History Channel thing: "Good to know." Everyone needs a complimentary foil. I think I may've found just that.

I titled this blog "The Obligatory" as I had originally planned on starting it off with an anecdote about how this is the third or fifth time I've tried starting a blog and each subsequent attempt from the first I've always started out saying something like, "yeah, I've tried this whole blog thing before but it never worked out, but THIS time I've got it dialed in and I'll be posting like mad, dude." So I was going to talk about how stupid it is to start a blog off like and that's probably why none of them ever stuck since they had such a shitty premise. Oh, the irony. But now I've circumvented that whole thing by talking about how I was going to start this blog in the middle where it is no longer relevant. Not that it ever was. But the whole creation myth/seemingly arbitrary movement of thoughts and stories seems to tie in well with the crap I was watching on the Bermuda Triangle.

I'll be happy if any of this makes any sense in the morning. I've been drinking gin that's easily 30 years old. My parents found it in the closet in the garage when they moved in to this condo 6 years ago. It's passed the first test; I haven't gone blind.

So that's about it for now I think. I got the first post out of the way. There will be more. I'll talk about stuff, give my opinion, I'll even critique things. But not tonight. Words are just flying. And it's mostly about t.v. Suck. Oh well. More to come. Peace.