Because we haven’t been posting so much and life is hard, here are pictures of a deer licking a cat:

Dear Lord Bozarking:

We have created a mighty post in your honor, in the hopes we may be graced by your presence. Please, take our humble offerings and shower us with your poetic verses of filth and degradation in the modern world. (more…)

Remember my poem, the tour de force I did not speak out against the impending encroachment of the New York Times Barack Obama Muslim Fascist Communist Socialist State

First they came for the Imperial system, and I did not speak out—because I was not an Imperial system;
Then they came for the health care companies, and I did not speak out—because I was not a health care company;
Then they came for the Sarah Palin, and I did not speak out—because I was not Sarah Palin;
Then they came for Whites—and there was no one left to speak out for me except illegal immigrants and ACORN.

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Here’s a little poem I wrote called I did not speak out against the impending encroachment of the New York Times Barack Obama Muslim Fascist Communist Socialist State:

First they came for the Imperial system, and I did not speak out—because I was not an Imperial system;

Then they came for the health care companies, and I did not speak out—because I was not a health care company;

Then they came for the Sarah Palin, and I did not speak out—because I was not Sarah Palin;

From the depths of my soul, I hate Internet Explorer.

Doop doop doop, surfing the web, found a funny picture of a horse on Reddit. I can’t wait to save it:

Don’t write such sappy simple poetry
The world deserves better
Than the shit you spout
Asshole to piehole

Are you stuck in a rut?
has the everyday lost its zing?

Here’s a poem I call New York Times:

New York Times
NEW YORK TIMES?!?!?
Think you’re better than us?
Us? U.S?
U.S.A?
No way.

The last song I heard on the radio to work: Coldplay — Viva La Vida
The first song I heard on the radio after work: Coldplay — Viva La Vida

The original emo king, the Herlihy boy house service:

i wanna be with you
all of the time

do it once
you know you’ll do it twice

and that’s a shame

(wa-oo wa-oo wa-oo)

I wish I could find a way to do the things I know I need to do. I wish I knew what I was looking for. I wish it didn’t all seem so pointless. I wish I didn’t fall in love with fantasies and dream of girls who if they were real wouldn’t dream of me.

But these are all backgound noise to the game of the moment, 11th inning of a tie game between the Boston Red Sox and Los Angeles Angels. I find myself drawn to the Angels, though I have been a lifelong Red Sox fan, my allegiance the last tie to my short childhood in Providence. Those days were long ago.

I think about them in between pitches, and dream about them while the commercials roll. All the girls in my life, the ones I love unrequited, the ones who love me unrequited, the girls I once loved and who loved me, passionately and without care. The girls I loved only once.

$5 for whoever identifies this band and proceeds to put them into a cage / large crate.

Technorati Tags: emo music video, emo music, emotions, mv, cry babies, terrible music, awful music video, emos, cutters, tears

Just smile and nod. Life lessons learned late. Why? Why do we live? So many wasted hours spent searching for answers that were never there. Just smile and nod

Actually, maybe Bud put it best. Their answer to the big question: Why ask why? Try Bud Dry! Makes as much sense as drinking wine as if it were the blood of an undead God I guess. Bud Dry would be the urine of Christ; the impurities of all humanity passed through His divine kidney.

Jesus it’s as simple as a sunset. Why is it so beautiful? Why ask why? Let’s get drunk and fuck! This moment will pass, let’s get drunk and fuck.

this one found with death around his neck
this one found with it deep inside his head

futile life takers, seize the day
squeeze too tight,
George I think I
killed it

Smoked too much, panic’d, crap. had to try to sleep. Too much emotion and repression. It takes me a while to feel the pain. How should I live my life? Just gotta keep going man, go go go! There was a beat festival going on in Tompkins park recently, I like thems. How should i live my life? too many options, shit what do I do? Live your life until you are through. Go for the Gonzo, go for the gold.

Why is everyone trying to distract me from what I want? what do I want? shit everything I once loved has faded away. Except for this, except for this. So hard to see the path, that leads me through, to where I belong. That mix of cosmic determinism and individual freedom that exists for every person in every moment.

Guts
by Chuck Palahniuk

Inhale.

Take in as much air as you can. This story should last about as long as you can hold your breath, and then just a little bit longer. So listen as fast as you can.

A friend of mine, when he was 13 years old he heard about “pegging.” This is when a guy gets banged up the butt with a dildo. Stimulate the prostate gland hard enough, and the rumor is you can have explosive hands-free orgasms. At that age, this friend’s a little sex maniac. He’s always jonesing for a better way to get his rocks off. He goes out to buy a carrot and some petroleum jelly. To conduct a little private research. Then he pictures how it’s going to look at the supermarket checkout counter, the lonely carrot and petroleum jelly rolling down the conveyer belt toward the grocery store cashier. All the shoppers waiting in line, watching. Everyone seeing the big evening he has planned.

Play this until your eyes bleed:

I started off
by cumming in her face
but that was too much
too soon

I finished by
crying myself
into orgiastic

If I can not be an artist, then what is the next best thing? Consume consume until consumed. Without malice, without hate, detach from all wordly attachments. Drink till full, then drink again. Love till full, then love again. Masturbate till empty? Jeez, what a hard life, always full of intrigue and double meaning. Someone measured the fractal-nature of Jackson’s painting, and found that over 2 was too much. The best was 1.something, but I forget the exact number. Maybe 1.618? Lol, math.

The best math is philosophical, but maybe that can be said about the best anything. Can you connect two unrelated things together, my young artist? Look at the sphere swirling inside, outside and find the new way, the new look, the new idea that fits round peg into square hole. I have been thinking about n-dimensions, en-dash and em-dash, n-words and f-word, sea-wards and inwards. And all I have gotten for my troubles is a hangover headache, post-dated for tomorrow morning. Christ.

my heart lifted
hands plunged
depths of my
soul exposed

oh sun beat
downward hell
burning brain is

Time can take its toll on the best of us

Today, Georgey H. broke down in front of the Florida state house as he talked about Jeb. Of course, this leads people to think that he was crying about Jeb. But they’re wrong.

Using my powers of reason and ESP, I translated for all of you what George was ACTUALLY thinking:

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les enfants de la guerre ne dancent pas bien ce nuit
ils penseront a la fin de la vie
et quand l’etoile qui se leve a matin
est tombee dances comme tu es fou lapin

we are asleep please don’t wake us today
I’d like to scream but I have naught to say

These are pretty much all my totally emo feelings put into a totally non-emo sarcasm. My existence is not to be looked down upon, unless you are doing so in an ironic way to further fuel my love for EMOtions:

A song about the Yuppie Death March via Daniel Johnston:

Oh Lord it really brings me down
About the Devil Town

And all my friend were vampires
Didn’t know they were vampires
Didn’t know I was a vampire myself

Today was the worst day ever. First someone broke a ruler over my head in class, then my jocko roommates creeped into my business:

Roses are Red.
Violets are Blue.
All my base,
are belong to you.

www.godhatesfags.com
i’m so tired
brokeback to the future
my gay rites have let me down
1000 scabs of right
50 years to go
all that matters is tv

Apparently this blog isn’t the only entity aware of my ever-present pain, GoogleAds is too:

The Original Fecalgram
Anonymously send them a box of poop and see their reaction online.
fecalgram.com

Get Your Ex Back
Get a powerful plan for restoring your relationship with your ex. $24

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“trying to go through the motions like everyone else, hoping to god nobody notices your inner suffering, but deep down inside you hate every second you are on this earth”

this place is a prison, these people aren’t your friends

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Feelings
We all have feelings

We like to give
Our love
And get love back
It’s part of caring
Your learning caring

I haven’t written in forever, mostly because I have nothing interesting to say. However, I am now 22. Officially old. Too old for barely legal porn, even.

Part of me really wishes I was 16 again and could start over.

The End.

I am riding a wave of discontent into the ocean
crashing onto myself over and over
the swell swells inside me lifting me higher
and I laugh until I fall

I am on an iceburg in the darkest sea
only this cold do I float above the waves

torn up inside

full of emotions

combative, sad

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your actions cut through me like a silver dagger entrenches its death kneel upon a helpless vampire, descending back into its fiery grave as the demonic trenches reclaim its soul

my soul is a dark abyss, enveloped with sadness and pain, as my heart is filled with the darkness that is inevitably eternal

My heart has become as broken glass, scattered about in shards of remorse and desparation, allowing the cold wind of depression to seep into my now open soul.

i apologize, for the levies that keep the waters of sadness and despair in my heart have been flooded by an uncertain gloom, as the sun descends out of the sky and darkness renders my life invisible

So after years of liking dark, maudlin. whiny-boy music like the Cure, Nick Cave (in all his incarnations) and the Smiths, and loud loud post-punk stuff like Fugazi, the Hospitals, etc, not to mention my white-boy blues phase (the White Stripes, Captain Beefheart, Mr. Airplane Man, the Gossip), my musical taste has totally changed. I’m totally uninterested in hipster music now. My last hipster-approved purchase was The Decemberists’ latest album a few months ago and I listened to it all of once. Ooh, you guys are so WHIMSICAL, yet FULL OF PROFOUND, QUIRKY MEANING. I’m SO IMPRESSED. Groan. All I listen to anymore is rap and classical music. In my stereo right now is Chopin’s Nocturne’s, Beethoven’s 2nd and 4th symphonies, and an Aesop Rock album.

The only thing that I can think of that these two genres have in common is that rap artists and guys like Mozart all probably got laid a lot more than weirdo grungy punk guys. Guy from Fugazi, for instance – great musician, but he’s all awkward and spastic and looks like Where’s Waldo with a unibrow.

I don’t know how so many people go straight from high school to undergraduate school and then from undergraduate school right into grad school. Not to mention the freaks who decide to get PhDs right out of undergraduate school or an MA program. That’s almost all of your 20s! Ack! Hell, I don’t know how people go to undergrad for a fifth year. I’m one of the few people I know who’s graduating in four years, and I’m going out of my goddamned mind trying to finish this last one – and it’s only the first semester! I think to myself several times per day, ‘fuck 18th century French literature, I’m going to become a stripper!’ Then I think back to my recent, disastrous attempt at creating Porn Star Nails (long, shiny and square painted with really obvious white tips) and realize I’m not cut out for all that bleaching and waxing and filing.

Then I think, because I’m already on the subject of pubic hair and my desire not to have to wax it off, that there are millions of products on the market designed to remove pubic hair, but none that I know of dedicated to its upkeep. I’m fairly certain regular shampoo and conditioner probably aren’t good things to smush around near your private area, meaning someone needs to invent something hypoallergenic and…I don’t know, genital-safe.

I’m going to admit something that, these days, is unfashionable.

I watch television.

I watch it, I like it, I have cable, and not just for the History channel or BBC World News.

I like to watch trashy reality shows on VH1. I like cooking shows. I could probably give you a detailed list of every Food Network personality. I like stupid shows aimed at women like all those ridiculous makeover shows that I know, intellectually, are dumb and condescending, but no one’s watching me in my little studio apartment, so what the hell.

Why can’t people just shutthefuckup once in awhile? Everyone’s on their cell phones on the bus, yelling into the receiver as if we all want to hear about how their boyfriend is ‘triflin,” or they’re on it in the fucking grocery store, talking to their bougie, castrated husband about what kind of English muffins he wants.

In the staff meeting for the school paper I work for, people kept talking while the editor was trying to talk. Just carrying on their own goddamn conversations. Hello? Are we in the third grade? Have we not figured out that meetings, while boring and tedious, go a lot faster when everyone focuses and speaks one at a time?

The worst, though, is the library. I can no longer study in the FREAKING LIBRARY.

I am obsessed with the E reality show “The Girls Next Door.” It is strangely mesmerizing, in large part because the people filming/editing the show have a great sense of humor. It’s this strange combination of advertisement and spoof of the Playboy brand/mansion/etc.

I would like a stable of blonde women and a mansion when I grow up. And a large collection of silk pajamas.

So far all I’ve got is a pair of cotton boxers from the Gap and a girlfriend with purple hair.

Hmm.

I am the evil love nurse and I love to party. I love to party all the time, party all the time. Party all the time.