Thursday, July 26, 2012

The Olympics!

For the record, I would like it to be known that I am very excited about the upcoming Olympics. This has never happened before! I think it is because this is the first Olympics that has taken place since I have been trying to lead a non-sedentary lifestyle. I finally have a relatable and physical understanding of what it must feel like to run a five minute mile (I’m lucky to do 11 on a good day) and so I am excited to watch real athletes run and jump and kayak and hop and dance and swim and shoot and pole vault and javelin and do all of the other things that they train for. May the lord bless and keep those athletic sons of bitches. For my part, I will skip my own running and eat some cheddar and sour cream ruffles and watch them perform their hearts out!

The only other television events I’ve ever found this exciting:
11)      The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show
22)      The Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show
33)      Any season premiere of The West Wing (which is no longer on TV)


Facebook is a strange, strange thing, especially after you have had a little wine and you start backtracking through your own biography and if you’re single and ultimately you stumble upon people you have personally spent time with and you look at their profiles and wonder to yourself, “THAT motherfucking guy is in a relationship?! Fucking seriously?”

Like, how much of an asshole must I be if that dude who used to lick toads and pull the wings off flies has found someone who loves him?

There is a song by the Mister T Experience called “Even Hitler had a girlfriend” and that kind of sums up the way that I feel. 


Wednesday, July 18, 2012

The Same Picture of Dave Coulier Every Day.

If you enjoy looking at picture of Dave Coulier – and who doesn’t? – then you might enjoy this blog: 

Thanks to Captain David Morck for bringing this to the attention of the editors here at Standardkink.



Because I sometimes find myself to be simply hilarious, below is the text of an actual email I recently sent to an actual person:

What?! You can totally eat haunted ham. But then the ghost will just live and grow inside your body. It works the same way as trichinosis.


Nyan Cat.

My roommate snapped this picture of a conversation I was having with one of my cats about how she should try to be more like the Nyan Cat. This is one of the best pictures I have ever been involved in.

If you’re unfamiliar with the Nyan Cat, it is kind of awesome. Here you go:


Anti-Ham Gods Cause Personal Suffering for Their Followers.

Anti-Ham Gods Cause Personal Suffering for Their Followers
By james bezerra

If by the decree
of your almighty deity,
you are not allowed to eat ham,
well that’s no tragedy
because it means there’s more for me!


Famous Historical Figures and Ham.

Famous historical figures who I know for a fact were crazy about ham:

Abraham Lincoln
Søren Kierkegaard
Michael Jackson
Gary Oldman
John Wayne
Greg Brady
The Hamburgler
Thomas Kinkaid
Lewis and Clarke
Martha Washington
The third emperor of the Ming dynasty
John Hodgeman
Paul Bunyan
Orville Redenbacher
Nancy Drew



By james bezerra

Next time you eat a ham sandwich
you should not wonder which
part of the dear departed piggy
is in your mouth and so tasty!



So I had a massively humbling and totally human moment recently and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
Oh, the editors here at Standardkink have asked me to tell you that due to my ongoing nervous breakdown, this will be less of a “writing” blog for a little while and more of a “holy shit this guy needs some serious therapy” kind of blog.

Anyway, back to that profoundly human moment … I recently got some news that shook me to the very core of my person. In order to better protect the innocent, I’m not really at liberty to tell you much about what happened (it isn’t really my business to share) but suffice to say it will affect me in some way for the rest of my life.

The point here though is that all the fuses in my head melted and I couldn’t remember how to breathe or sit. I’ve done some googling and it appears I had an honest to god panic attack (I’ve only really ever had one once before, but it was nothing like this). I ended up spending the better part of ten hours just walking aimlessly around town. I probably walked twenty-five or thirty miles that day. By the end I had these fat disgusting blisters and my legs felt like jelly. At one point I went home to drink some water and I ended up – no kidding – praying.

I am not a religious person and it isn’t that I’m profoundly opposed to religion and I don’t call myself an atheist (though others might, and they’re free to if it makes them feel better) I’m simply not a religious person. I have trouble not seeing religion as myth; it’s the writer in me.

Yet all that notwithstanding, there I was, on my knees in my little bedroom, hands clasped together, deeply apologetic that I’m in my thirties and had never really prayed before. If God was paying attention he at least didn’t make fun of me. 

So I asked for what I asked for, apologized a lot, made some halfhearted jokes that were probably inappropriate and then said my amen, crossed myself all Catholic-like, felt strange about it, apologized again and then left the apartment quickly, as though leaving an awkward first date.

Clearly there’s something disingenuous about me praying, but I swear, the asking for help part was entirely genuine. Probably as genuine as I have ever been. So what does that mean? Or does it mean anything? Or does it just make me an opportunist and a hypocrite?

Probably those last two, huh?

I guess it goes back to the old adage about how there are no atheists in fox holes. Well, I was in my fox hole dammit and I reached out. Though in my defense, I would have prayed to Voldemort too if I thought it would have helped. I can say though, I appreciate now more than ever how soothing it must be to possess religious faith; to believe that someone supremely powerful is out there and cares about you and your happiness. It was a calming experience and deeply humbling, and I need a little humbling from time to time.

Now the postscript, of course, is that nothing has changed and my prayers have decidedly not been answered (surely God knows how impatient I am!), but that’s not the point of this post. I just felt it was a strange enough experience that it should be remarked upon. So there you have it, I guess, it has been remarked upon.