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8.16.06
5:16 PM
In early 1997, the Coca-Cola Company released a new caffeine charged soft drink called Surge. It was the green of a cirrhosis patient’s piss and tasted like rotten fruit infused with ultrasugar.
I drank it like babies drink breast milk.
(For some reason or other) I stopped drinking it for a short period of time. After that period was over, I picked up a can, opened it and drank deep of the poison sweet within.
I never drank Surge again…until today.
Yesterday I picked up the 8th season of the Simpsons on DVD (my favorite season) and doing so spurred me to contact an old friend from high school, Sunir Joshi.
Hang on, that’s not fair.
Sunir and I were. It’s hard to describe and grasp. We just were. And now, like before, we just is. We just is SuPaul, we just is on this Web, still wondering who the Spider REALLY is (it might be Mr. Snow, but no one can really know for sure…), we just is not allowed to be in the same room as Phil and Will or everything will just not be.
He is about to become a doctor (Infant rape counselor, transsexual anal gynecologist, something along those lines) and that is more frightening than the idea of me babysitting visually impaired, pre-adolescent albino Negroes…..wait…
So we spoke for a bit yesterday and he told me that there is a new Coca-Cola “energy drink” out called Vault and that it reminded him of me as soon as he tried it. He told me to find some and find some I did. Ladies and gentlemen, Surge has returned Granted it is now called Vault and being marketed as an energy drink, but it’s Surge. It even comes in the same green bottle with the same black cap it used to. Those bastards. Filthy dog-fucking whoresons. I have promised not to play their game, but as I type this manifesto of rebellion, I am searching for a vein in which to stick the IV.
Hm.
Just kidding, this shit tastes worse than Surge. I don’t know if they altered the formula a bit or if it’s just what Surge tasted like all along. Yeech.
Changing the subject.
The plans for this weekend have been altered. I am joining Will, Will’s Ladyfriend Megan (maybe there’s an “h” in there, I don’t know but she strongly resembles Jessica Alba so does it really matter?) and Will’s brother, Dr. Drew, in New Haven, Connecticut for the best pizza in the galaxy (this is what Will has actually been working on since he graduated Harvard), something called a “double-fried donut” (which, if it’s anything like chicken-fried steak, I will have lots of and then experience chest pains and osmotic diarrhea) and a documentary about the increased number of reptiles in the field of aviation. It’s a think piece.
True, I won’t be able to see it with Bob Franklin, but maybe he and I can just hit a titty bar next time I go to D.C.
I bet he abuses strippers. It probably all starts out with him using his fame to get the best looking ones and then he jokingly grabs their throat, putting them on guard, but then he smiles his disarming, I-tamed-Madonna-with-this-smile smile and all is forgiven…until he pins their arms behind their head and then finishes the job. He’s probably got dozens of people to clean up his trail of dead prostitutes…
What price, fame?
Also caught the new Scissor Sisters video today. Funky, scary and fagtastic like all their stuff even though the song is a bit of a letdown when compared to their other singles.
And I have been a bad little consumer recently but, fuck, if I’m going to be dead before I’m 32, I am going to use the money I’ve accumulated over my time here. Seriously, what’s eight DVD’s in the grand scheme of things? Carpe diem! Memento mori! Vichyssoise! VICHYSSOISE!!!
S E G U E
Beck has put out quite a lot of his new album by either putting up tracks on his website or putting the videos (the album comes with a DVD containing videos for each of the 15 tracks) on his myspace page. The overall sound is funk like skunk, baby. There is a lot of his other albums’ sound on this one and I am just fine with that. He also seems to have done a lot of “rapping”. I call it “rapping” because it isn’t as idiotic as a lot of rappers out there rapping today. I should probably call it “talking fast with a set meter”. Yeah, there is a lot of talking fast with a set meter and it is blistering. After listening to some of these bits (the talking fast in a set meter bits) I hearken back to something Beck said about his relationship with lyrics in his music. He said something along the lines of the lyrics being the most and least important thing in his music. From anyone else that would sound conceited or stoned, but Beck not only professes it, he proves it. In fact, he fucking LIVES it. I mean, Midnite Vultures makes hardly a lick of sense, but it fits together like Tetris.
Excuse me, could you tell me how to get to the Soviet embassy?
I saw “Capote” the other day.
Laughed my ass off.
I have a feeling that the length and…diffusion (?) of this entry might possibly in the slightest fashion be because of this foul green ichor I have introduced to my unsuspecting body.
Take thy beak from out my heart and take thy Vault from off my wang.
Like a chicken egg to the Gnome King…poison.

8:28 PM
Goodness gracious it has hit me!! Energy drink Xmax!!! Begin the procedure! Hit me with your rhythm stick and sew up the wounds will rain clouds.
I have the inside in my mouth and the dancers are all upstairs except for Joe who is renting the cabin on the third floor (beware the dripping faucet) and dodging the hair attacks when the loon coo coos at 6:35PM. Bad mojo, man. The baddest. Only you can prevent me from preventing forest fires and I ask politely that you don’t. Just let me be. Let me be.
Christ on horses my hands are shaking almost too much for me to communicate to you and the world just how FUCKED UP THIS DRINK IS!!!! IF WE FEED IT TO THE BABIES, THEY WILL DIE OF ANOREXIA AND OTHER DISEASES WITH "X"s IN THEM!!!!

THE
PHONE
IS
RING

It stopped.


IT FUCKING STOPPED!! GLORY BE THE PHONE IS RUNG OUT!

Leaping Jesus it’s like my brain is moving faster than my fingers. If only I had smarter fingers. They would know what to do. They would call someone in charge and report this heinous violation of finger policy. I could lose my finging license for this infraction. Back to the beginning!!! Cigarette smoke! This room smells like cigarette smoke and I can’t do a thing about it. Fire the cannons! YES! I sank your battleship and now I will sink your dream boat. Bam. Sweet, sweet candy. Bam. Touch it!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Chasing my thoughts down like Elmer Fudd.
Wow.
Okay.
Calm down.
I just took a few breaths of this nasty air (armpits…FOUL armpits) and it seems to have worked. I don’t know if this stuff it affecting me this way because I have only had a bowl of cereal today or because there is a lot of “energy” in the drink. Either way my tongue feels scummy. I plan not to drink this piddle again, even though this was a fun little waste of time. My food should be arriving soon and everything will stop blurring then…I hope.
Pray for my blood sugar.