this happened to me one time

everything is being stubborn and spitting fire and I don’t feel well enough or have the time to put up with it

It really does get hard to ungrit the ol’ teeth after awhile

girl at the Taco Bell drive-thru just called me “love.” Is there something I can do to my face or clothes to ensure nobody ever does that to me again that won’t also get me killed in the street

I wish I was still all-together inside. I’d follow through on the idea I had to always carry some dice around and grind every situation to a complete halt by suggesting we “consult the bones”

Oh fuck

That’s right, baby - If it says “EA TRAXX” you can basically just assume most of the music is awful

ME: Alright, is there anybody here didn’t get a turn that wants one? THE “WHAT ABOUT THAT WHICH IS MINE” GUY FROM HELLBOY II: Over here! Over here! I have something to say! ME (pretending I can’t hear him): Anyone? Anybody at all?

Daddy needs his pills and green tea and Gatorade and nicotine and repeating loop of “Scarface (Push It To The Limit)”

illness consumes me. I must eat an entire large Pizza Hut thin crust and then take Russian NyQuil as soon as possible

first day of the new year and I’m out buying $3 frozen creamed chipped beef so I can spend all of my free time like I’m living in a boiler room in the basement of a train station

If I was president the first thing I’d do is demand airlines pull about fifteen seats out of every single passenger airliner and completely rethink the bathroom situation. And the missing seats wouldn’t be a congestion problem because we’d be getting rid of Iowa

they better be ready for me at the car wash. they better bring the heat once that little camera scans my license plate and opens up the little gate in the members only lane

Sometimes I go back and read my tweets and it’s so evident that I get fixated on something at 11:45 PM, wake up still fixated on that thing and just start tweeting again. It’s a compulsion. It’s the posting equivalent of bailing water out of a sinking rowboat. I don’t have a choice here

If I was a stormtrooper or a TIE pilot or a guy that sits in a chair and pulls levers I would be SO pissed the first time I saw all the rebels with their cool ski jackets and hot rod space ships shaped like the coolest letter in the alphabet. I would know instantly I’d been duped

how many people are doing cartoons for the New Yorker? I reset my Instagram algorithm because it had gone to shit and now no matter how many identical slice-of-life gentle chuckle comic pages I block another one comes scuttling up out of the drain

I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do when we lose Harrison Ford

We are locked in on this. I counted down out loud while a cat tried to pull the meat and cheese platter off the table

… It won’t budge. … It’s locked. … I can’t go that way. … It won’t budge.

I don’t really fuck with new Star Wars but the originals constantly going back and forth between pasty British space nazis and a bunch of guys that look they’re smoking chinese cigarettes in between takes of a tax-break porno movie is good television

his name’s fuckin Kyle Katarn. He’s like if Han Solo was a Jedi. His name’s fuckin’ Corran Horn. He’s like if Han Solo was a Jedi. His name’s fuckin’ Dash Rendar. He’s like if Han Solo was getting over the flu

this text I got from my mechanic friend after I first brought him my barracuda immediately tattooed itself on my brain

always a good text to get from a number you don’t recognize when you elect to skip the NYE party

My brother is about to move a full twenty four hour drive away from where I live and I’ve found myself emotionally effected enough that I am giving him the first Gibson SG I ever bought. I gigged this thing a lot and my actual sweat and blood (and a lot of Cuervo) are sunk down into the wood.

I just discovered that my brother did a quick and dirty Frankenstrat job on his Trans-Am’s bell housing and though this is more indisputable proof that we’re related when I pressed him on which Van Halen singer he prefers he started trying to change the subject because he’s afraid to say Sammy Hagar

Ohhhhh today is completely fucked

So many classics of the form, RIP to a legend

UPGRADES STREET: Cold Air Intake PRO: Extremely Cold Air Intake

Bones McCoy go on Jackass

I know what I’m doing as soon as I get off work

Sit down, 007. 36 hours ago one of our code breakers intercepted a transmission out of Beijing. The Chinese have invented a way to make horses immortal

ran like a fuckin’ banshee all day long and now I’m just sitting here thinking about the fiendish puzzles of Myst, a game about a man with two vile sons

very focused on the transit of my battle-worn Nakayama Kanako signature SG, a famously sturdy style of guitar that holds up well to being dropped or looked at wrong

2025 was kind of a mixed bag but I spent a lot of time with a lot of people I love and got an interesting new job that necessitated a fast new car

One of the best to ever do it

I guess I will still take the “35 year old teenager soap opera” setting of Need for Speed over the “35 year old teenager music festival” angle of Forza Horizon

remember that stretch of Need for Speed games where they kept casting supermodels as like the love interest for the live action cutscenes and every time you booted the game up there was a smeary green screen video of them in a jacket and sports bra telling you not to street race in real life

You cannot stop The Lord’s favorite cowboy. You can only confuse him so much he has to sit down for awhile

every time my boss takes off work a bunch of external shit goes unexpectedly haywire and while I find that enormously stressful it also makes me look like a badass when I don’t massively fuck it up

I found a flash files that generates Tokyo Xtreme Racer B.A.D. names from the pools of different games and I’m proud to announce that on the expressway they now know me as Punishing Vagabond

finally found the perfect battered Greco SG copy deep in the heart of Tokyo and goddamn if I didn’t tell the gentleman to wrap it up and put it on an airplane

got metropolis street racer working

doing a gargantuan copy process between two external drives and it’s making me sweaty

In a roundabout way I think the nintendo Gamecube is either my firstborn son or a very distant uncle

I call this one “I Tried Dissolving Two Adderall In A Gas Station Dr. Pepper At 6:45 PM”

it’s not often that I really wish I’d been born in a different decade but sometimes I think about how I’ll never get to try the McLobster or the McPizza and it hurls a barstool through the plate glass window of my heart

I don’t think I will be following theprankzone for more content like this

throwing a punch at a guy and yelling ᴰᴵˢˢᴬᴾᴱᴬᴿ like Shadow the Hedgehog right before he hits me so hard I shit my pants

I gave scrambles a bunch of cat nip as a Christmas present but all it did was make her eyes really big and then she went and laid down like this next to my work laptop