A New Blog Is Born. And It's A Pasty One.

Yes, folks, it's true. The moment you've been waiting for has arrived. It's time for some White Guy Jokes. Chapter H, Big J, ChinoMono, Red Dastard, and yours truly have channeled the routine and humdrum life of your typical white guy and have documented it in a blog for the world to see.


Taken from A Tasty Pint:

"With the recent success of white guy jokes, the Pint has given birth to its first child: WhiteGuyJokes.com It will be home for all of the intentionally awful white guy jokes. Some may be more racy than others, but the Pint does not judge, nor does it claim responsibility for the content of it's first child."


But the fun won't stop here, (white) guys. There are more goodies to come. Video? Audio? Nice pressed suits? The "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" painting hanging above your home-bar in the basement, where your father keeps his 25 year old scotch? You'll have to wait and see...until then, take a gander.

Astoria Livin' Tuesday

That's really all I need to say...

And this is how we (I) at While We Were Dreaming celebrate...by posting some music and stuff. C'mon, what else did you expect?




[classic]




[i know...i can't really stand them...but this is kinda awesome...kinda]




[new cursive]



[why the hell not]



[dancing...againz]



[thx, em]



[well, ecstasy]



[obviously]



[if you don't think this is one of the catchiest tunes, you have problems]

stupid 'sters, but GAH!

science v. democracy v. the doodles in my 3 subject notebook

it's 3am. i'm not sleeping. really no surprise here. except that i should be because i have to wake up in t-minus...5 hours to catch a bus...to the city...for an interview...and the rest of my life.

so, like the loser that i am, i'll shmloggy blog instead (i'm not the only one...)

warning: the following text may be delirious nonsense.

restoring simplicity one complication at a time...

social echelons built by powerful white men...alright, you already know where this is going. ranting ranting ranting. but it's the truth. i did learn one thing in college, and that was to hate men. i'm kidding. I'M KIDDING. but i did learn that the family is the natural state of nature, and within that institution there is the authority -- the male. fuck you, rousseau. clear cut prejudices were voices through these political theories, and through these disparages, individuality was lost. BUT I WANT TO BE AN INDIVIDUAL. too bad. i'm a subordinate specie (well...i was). gah. shouldn't this be where good ol' darwanist ideals come into play. imma kill and fight and whore my way to the top. screw the legality of whatever. but i can't. because the "able individual" is based on privileged articulation. and today i only made $45 at work that went to the rent i gotta pay my parents. i'm anything but able (minded?)

alright. i just re-read what i wrote and it makes absolutely no sense. but i'm not gonna delete because i (personally) feel that it'll be funny to read after i decide to get some sleep.

until then...i'm gonna continue to write nonsensical bullpoopie.

[if the world doesn't explode in 2012, here's what i believe is gonna happen]

my dystopia...maybe

it's 2190, and the world's energy source runs solely on human shit. the more dung you surrender to the government, the more solution x (a legal drug that is superior to cash money) you receive. a form of currency as well as comfort, solution x can buy food and laxative, which -- of course -- means more green flow. the more waste you produce, the more you are rewarded.

being a visitor, you probably know little about my world now called planet dredge. my name is individual #543. i will describe to you my world:

in the year 2169, plant dredge's energy was depleted. after five years of inertia, professor 69 discovered a source of energy that would power our entire society -- human feces. soon after, planet dredge was back up and running, but the population got greedy and wanted something in return for their energy enhancers. that is when solution x was developed. the small blue pill soon became more valuable than money, gold, silver and any other type of currency.

last night i was kidnapped by the drug lords. though i'm not one to boast, many of my peers claim that my defections serve as a better energy source. it is not because of a superior diet, but entirely because of my genetic makeup. because of this, the government reward me with higher doses of solution x. the higher the dose, the more valuable it is. i currently have over 6,000 pills of solution x -- all of which the drug lords want for their own use. they are currently holding me as their slave, feeding me laxatives to make me produce more excrement to give to the government for pills in return.

this is my story. a story based of lies, deception and scandal. a story where there is no good or evil, funny or sad, but just the cold hard facts. a story where the main characters sometimes die and the villains sometimes get away with murder. my story. my world. my shit.



oh my god. i'm going insane. goodnight. maybe.

since i'm already dancing...

[wo]man in the mirror

The Faint...sometimes I laugh at their dancy-cheese fest tunes. And sometimes I dance to them.

This is one of those times...

Nature and the Stanky Leg

I'm going to clean this up a bit.

But first...


I'm no "go-green" freak, and I've shared with many people my (completely obvious and justifiable) opinion on "sustainability," but today, nature made me cry. And it felt great.

I'm choosing to not explain my blubbery breakdown because my words will not elucidate (similar to my attempt to vitalize my writing with that word) the absolute beauty that I saw this morning [and I'm sure a lot of you are already aware of my whole "words murder thoughts" spiel.]

So I'll leave it at this: It's amazing how the sun can, so simply, ignite beauty and life and magic to...everything. Anything. Even a garbage-infested street in Chinatown at 6:41 am.

The sanctity of nature. The one thing that binds humanity. The one thing that provides eternal rhythm and compassion and elegance, and our only responsibility is to embrace it. Instead, we run from it.

Typical.

I may have lied a few paragraphs up. Only your own words murder your thoughts. That's why I let other people's words do the thinking for me...like these words:

"All things in this creation exist within you, and all things in you exist in creation; there is no border between you and the closest things, and there is no distance between you and the farthest things, and all things, from the lowest to the loftiest, from the smallest to the greatest, are within you as equal things. In one atom are found all the elements of the earth; in one motion of the mind are found the motions of all the laws of existence; in one drop of water are found the secrets of all the endless oceans; in one aspect of you are found all the aspects of existence." KG

Oh, integral ecology. How you complete me...

With all that said, I feel that it's appropriate to now take the "let's post something completely irrelevant and silly to end Jackie's attempt at faux-adoration for something she disrepects on a daily basis" route.

So, ladies and worms, I present to you...The Stanky Leg[g] (a dance I did not perfect at a posh club in NYC last night...after taking a limo there...and drinkin' free dranks...and watching my friend get her ass slapped by random Asian dudes...and previously, the night before, attempting to poll dance...and, well, that's a completly different story...)

You know what really grinds my gears?

When people try to be witty right after someone dies (in this case, Patrick Swayze).


"Well, now he can make a Ghost 2"

or

"Now he really is a GHOST"

or

"I bet he's gonna be dirty dancing with Jesus now!"


Alright you fucktards, it's been said about 4 billion times already. And none of it is funny. It's really not. At all. I hope you all get cat AIDS.

With that said, I leave you with this...ahem...




Also, shut up about Kanye. Did his dickhole-ness really suprise you that much? If you're that retarded baby with spina bifida I was bloggin' about earlier, then maybe it did...


Listen, jeez, I'm sorry. I had a rough day. My car broke down. I only made $20 in tips at work because the only people that decided to eat at a Jewish deli were senior citizens and foreigners who don't tip. So, please, cut me some slack. I'll post something about bunny wabbits and equal opportunity tomorrow.

Cudi, MGMT, Ratatat? So help me Zeus...

I still haven't decided how I feel about this one...I mean, Cudi is cool. MGMT has been getting on my nerves for quite some time now...as for Ratatat? Lex is where it's at.

Well, I'm no expert. So, all 1.5 people that may or may not follow this blog (the 1 being me), you tell me what you think...[share your thoughts on the album art as well. I personally think it's pretty dope...kinda.]

New Norah

Yep. She's still alive, apparently. The song is...eh, but she's looking pretty fly, so I figured I'd post it. Also, I've never heard a more lamer crowd in my life. I'm assuming most of the people in the audience are senior citizens or dead. Maybe she was performing in St. Augustine? Or maybe all of her songs just put people to sleep. ToAtZ kidding. She has a pretty gnarly voice.

Alright...enough about me...

Loud and delicious

HEALTH - DIE SLOW