I foun this pibe in a field an decided that after being straight edge sinse I was 14 that it was time 2 thro that away an hav a fuckin care free summer bro! This is me sugging on a cool bong I fownd it in a field did I alredy say that? I don even kno im way too high to rember lol summer (I chinhaled!)
Please listen to an AMAZING song by The Shins that I can almost guarantee you’ve never heard. I’m serious.
Anonymous asked: How'd you end up meeting Vincent?
I was on their DVD in the 10 seconds of fame thing in December 08. I did a little Tim and Eric style bit. Then, in April of 2010, they were doing a live-chat from the studio while they recorded Wormwood. I went in there and at some point I let them know who I was. Basically, they told me I was a “legend to the band” and they were all doing the arm motion I did in my 10 seconds. Long story short, I got Vincent to follow me on Twitter, and then I saw them in May 2010 in Manchester, NH. We ended up hanging out the whole day, and they asked me to intro them on stage. They dedicated Skynet to me (well, to “Ebenezer Porke” which was my old “real name” on Twitter) and we became friends. Also became friends with Jack (bassist) and he’s actually my comedy writing partner. I consider the rest of the band buddies too. I feel really honored and lucky to know them, they’re really good and sweet guys. Funny and fun to hang out with. It’s still a little surreal because they’d been tied for my favorite band since I was fucking 14. So it’s insane to be friends with them and writing with the bassist of my favorite band and all that shit. Sorry about how long that was!
If you wake up tomorrow morning, thinking that saying a few Latin words over your pancakes is gonna turn them into the body of Elvis Presley, you have lost your mind. But if you think more or less the same thing about a cracker and the body of Jesus, you’re just a Catholic.
If you’re going to complain on the internet, it had better be funny, profound or private.
Me on me. (LOOK AT THE WACKY FACE I MAKE AT THE END, BOY AM I SURE FUNNY.)
I don’t feel any pity or sympathy for the people who fell for Harold Camping’s doomsday predictions and sold all their belongings, maxed out their credit cards, and did other short sighted the-world-is-about-to-end stuff. I certainly feel bad for the children of those people and for the family members who didn’t believe that nonsense who were affected by it. That’s different of course. But I don’t feel an ounce of empathy for Camping’s followers because they weren’t humble, pious people with good intentions who were swindled by an ancient cynic like some people will make them out to be. (Camping is without a doubt very old and certainly cynical, though he seems to really believe his nonsense.) They aren’t victims who we should feel sorry for. They were people who were cheering what they believed to be the impending murder of nearly every living thing on the planet by a celestial tyrant. They were anxiously awaiting the violent killing of their fellow man. They were welcoming and excitedly anticipating the horrific annihilation of roughly 95% of the world with smiles on their faces. Why would I have any sympathy for the loud, bloodthirsty serfs of a (luckily fictional) cosmic dictator?
Hangtred is this cool new emotion: Hunger/anger/hatred.
The shittiness of my sociopath monster coworkers went to an absurd fever pitch tonight. Utter poison for my soul. So, I’m going to look for a new job tomorrow. I post this not to be a boring oversharing blogger dickhead, but because it reminded me once again how cathartic a band The Acacia Strain is. I mentioned something similar a few weeks ago, but it’s even worse this times, so I wanted to share this song with you guys. It’s cleaning the hate-wound on my brain-heart. Worth giving a listen to if you like/don’t mind heavy music. (video says it’s 7:18, but the song ends at 3:15.)