a lousy can

Upon posting my last blog entry, I received several comments from friends pointing out the apparent, shall we say, badness of my blog. One friend even went so far as to say I was running out of things to talk about. I found this rather amusing since it's assuming I had something to say to begin with, which obviously I did not.

My latest attempt to piss off P.E.T.A - I'm starting a club. It's called N.A.B.S.C.A (North American Baby Seal Clubbing Association). If anyone would like to join just let me know. No meetings or anything. In fact, I doubt we'll ever really accomplish anything. It's simply for people who hate baby seals but aren't in enough of a seal thriving location to do anything about it.

I saw a man the other day driving around in a rusted, clapped out Chevy Celebrity hauling what appeared to be a trunk full of trash being held shut with a bungie cord. The man was so huge he had to roll the window down just to fit in his car. He was also either wearing a coat with a fur neckliner or had a really hairy back. Hard to tell. The guy obviously molests children.

Speaking of child molesters. My friend (the one in the scary ass picture I posted) is going to play a child molesting priest (seems sort of redundant) in a play his college is putting on (I just assumed this, he didn't say, but I'm guessing it isn't for his church). I'm hoping it's a musical.

I watched Mystic River yesterday for the first time. I must say, it wasn't the uplifting, brighten your day, make you feel better about yourself sort of movie I was hoping it would be. Not nearly as cheerful as Million Dollar Baby. Clint Fucking Eastwood. A real ray of sunshine that man. I bet that guy laughed when Bambi's mom died. What a bastard... he's my hero.

Just so everyone knows, the title of this post means absolutely nothing. Though, I bet my philosophical post structuralist friend could come up with something for you. You know, something like, "A can has no top and that represents the inevitable void resulting from the existential pre-cursing despondency from the overlying humanity every person faces. In conclusion, Matt is an asshole for ditching me on New Years. Libertarians suck."


--Note--
I am not running out of things to talk about. It's just becoming more and more obvious that I never had anything to talk about from the start. The fact that I already said this but am saying it again in a slightly reworded way is evidence of it.


"Last night I held Aladdin's lamp
And so I wished that I could stay
Before the thing could answer me
Well, someone came and took the lamp away
I looked around, a lousy candle's all I found"