Matt Kelley is Great.com

Current mood: awake
Category: Blogging

I should really start blogging. Perhaps I will. 

Currently watching : Demolition Man Release date: By 01 October, 1997

Current mood: aggravated

I don’t give a fuck about the lion, the witch or the damn wardrobe.

Currently watching : The Trailer Park Boys Christmas Special

Sometimes all I want to do is drive.  I just want to kick back in my black Chrysler LeBaron, hit the cruise control and just sail away.  I’d just chill out for a few miles and enjoy the scenery.  I wouldn’t have a destination.  I wouldn’t have a curfew, just hours upon hours of driving.  Perhaps i would have a canine companion who would stick his head out of the window and drool on the side of my car.  We’d be rebels.  Nobody could tell us what to do or where to go.  We would just be fee to roam the open road.  When I finally got tired of driving, I’d pull over to the side of road and say to my canine buddy, “here we are, pal.  Here we are.”  Then I would take the chopped up dead hooker out of my trunk and bury her. 

Currently listening : Michael Bolton - Greatest Hits 1985-1995 By Michael Bolton Release date: By 19 September, 1995

Current mood: hungry

Oh, I am.  You better believe it.  You don’t believe me?  Well, I’ll show you.  I’m gonna get fat as fuck.  You just watch.  Know what I’m thinking about right now?  A sandwich.  Thats right.  I was thinking about a sandwich.  A sandwich with like 6 different types of meat, assorted cheeses, mayo, and hardboiled eggs.  Thats right.  Whole hardboiled eggs.  You’re probably thinking what kind of weirdo puts hardboiled eggs on a sandwich?  I’ll tell you.  A fatso weirdo.  That’s me.  I’m gonna be a fatso weirdo.  Fat as fuck with a whole salmon on my sandwich.  Yeah.  That’s right.  There’s a salmon on there too.  I can do whatever I want with my imaginary sandwich that’s gonna make me fat.  You can’t stop me.  You can’t stop me from getting fat.  Nobody can stop it.  It’s my destiny.  Oh, you can try to stop it, but I’ll just get fatter.  I will.  You know what’s on my sandwich now?  Huh?  Do you?  Chicken wings.  A dozen of them.  Yeah.  They got hot sauce on em.  And blue cheese.  Remember the hardboiled eggs and the salmon?  They’re still there.  They didn’t go anywhere.  I’m getting fat.  Fat as fuck.        

Currently watching : The Trials of Henry Kissinger Release date: By 19 August, 2003

Current mood: angry

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and I think there are a lot of people out there who should just suck it.  I mean really.  Who do these people think they are?  Thinking they can get away from not sucking it.  Shame on them.  Now, lots of people should suck it and i can’t name them all so I’ll just name a few.

1. David Blaine- Man this guy needs to suck it hard.  He’s always going up to people on the street and bothering them with his lame ass illusions.  He’s no better than any homeless people that approach me on the street for spare change or cigarettes.  If I ever see that cock burglar out on the streets and he bugs me, I’m gonna be pissed.  No David Blaine, I don’t have the time to watch you push a quarter through your hand.  I’m busy.  Suck it. 

2.Geraldo- Seriously?  You’re gonna have that shitty moustache for 20 years?  Buddy.  You just earned yourself a one way ticket to fuckhead town.  I’ve had to watch you on TV since I was like 5 years old, and you have always had that shitty thing right in the middle of your face.  It’s not just the moustache either, you really are a grade A quality douchebag.  You know what?  It’s not just you either.  I can’t stand most national newscasters: Nancy Grace, Rita Cosby, Bill O’Reilly, Larry King, Greta Van Sustren.  You can all suck it.  However, I gotta give it up for my boy, Oblerman.  He’s a solid bro.  

3.  People that still do Austin Powers impressions- Ok.  That movie came out in like 1998.  It wasn’t funny when you did it then, and it sure as fuck isn’t funny know.  Suck it baby, yeah!

4. Roman Emporer Nero-  Sure he’s been dead for over 1000 years, but this guy was a royal asshole.  He burnt down 30% of ancient Rome to build himself a pleasure palace.  Look dude, we all want a pleasure palace where we can have orgies or sacrifice goats or whatever but why you gotta burn down Rome?  Just expand dude.  Isn’t that what building an empire is all about?  Suck it. 

Obviously, there are plenty of other people out there who need to suck it but I just don’t have the time for it now.  Plus, it makes me too angry to think about.  I want to wait until I’m at least 25 before I have a heart attack.  If somebody reads this and can think of other people who should suck it, please feel free to post.  Or you also have the option to suck it yourself.   

Currently watching : Total Recall Release date: By 21 May, 2002

Current mood: bitchy

I wish tiger Woods lived closer to me. We would be the best of friends. We really would. If I needed to borrow a stick of butter or a chainsaw, I would walk over to my good buddy Tiger’s house and borrow said items. “No hurry to bring it back” he would say. Tiger Woods would trust me with his belongings and with good reason. I would always treat all items borrowed from Tiger Woods as if they were my own. In the summers, I would spend most weekends over at Tiger’s house. I would come over to swim in the pool and Tiger would grill steaks on the BBQ. I’d yell at him to watch me dive and he would say that he was even if he was really concentrating on the steaks. Tiger and i would never golf, partially because I can’t stand the sport but mostly because i’m sure he gets sick of it too. No, most of our days would be spent laughing and talking of memories past. Sometimes I would get really drunk and pass out on Tiger’s couch. He wouldn’t mind. He would carry me upstairs and tuck me into one of the beds in one of his many guest bedrooms. In the morning, I would wake up and wonder where the hell i was and whose clothes I was wearing, but then i would smell the sizzling bacon cooking on the stove. I was at Tiger’s house. I was safe.

Current mood: cheerful
Category: Blogging

Hooray!  Today is Valentines Day!  Personally, I’ve never been too big of a fan of the holiday.  I’m not very good at it.  I think the last time I actually had a Valentines Day Date, I showed up late and I was drunk.  That’s right, I’m a real ladies man. 

I don’t know why, but I have a feeling that the orgin of this holiday has something to do with snakes.  Let’s take a look. 

The Story behind St. Valentines Day is a fascinating one. Although February 14th is celebrated as a lovers’ holiday today, with the giving of candy, flowers, Valentine’s Day card and other gifts between couples in love, it originated as a tribute to St. Valentine, a Catholic bishop.

As early as the fourth century B.C., the Romans engaged in an annual young man’s rite of passage to the God Lupercus. It’s earliest orgin was the Roman festival Lupercalia, observed on Feb. 15. Lupercalia celebrated the coming of Spring on the Roman calendar. Lupercalia became a celebration intended to ensure the fertility of flocks, fields and people.

The names of the teenage women were placed in a box and drawn at random by adolescent men; thus, a man was assigned a woman companion (a sexual partner) for the duration of the year, after which another lottery was staged. After eight hundred years of this cruel practice, the early church fathers sought to end this practice.

In an effort to do away with the pagan festival, Pope Gelasius ordered a slight change in the lottery. Instead of the names of young women, the box would contain the names of saints. Both men and women were allowed to draw from the box, and the game was to emulate the ways of the saint they drew during the rest of the year. Needless to say, many of the young Roman men were not too pleased with the rule changes.

Blah blah blah. 

Nothing to do with snakes.  I was thinking of St. Patricks Day. 

http://www.floramex.com/li-stpatricks.htm 

That’s boring.  I’d rather make up my own orgin.

Pope Schwarzenegger the XXXVII was riding his harley through the desert.  His first name was jake.  Jake had been driving for hours under the hot African sun. He was weary from the heat but it was the army of robots he had just fought that really took it out of him.  There had to be water somewhere. 

Jakes eyes began to close.  Was this the end of his terrible reign as Pope?  He certainly thought so.  Suddenly, an alien spacecraft appeared over the horizon.  The aliens fired a missle directly at Jake’s harley.  Jake jumped.   He was blown back by the force of the explosion.  No time to die now.  It was time to fight. 

Jake pulled his bazzooka out from underneath wreckage.  He fired and all the aliens died.  Just as Jake thought the fight was over, a grizzly bear attacked him from behind.  His bazooka was knocked out of his hands.  All Jake had now was his knife.  It was rusty but trusty. 

Jake threw the knife into the bear’s heart.  Blood spurt from the wound and covered Jake’s face.  That was his first drink in 7 days.  He looked at the bear.  It was hurt but not ready to quit.  Jake began to reach for his bazooka but the bear had the drop on him.  The bear delivered a swift roundhouse kick to the left side of Jake’s head.  For a moment everything went black. Jake opened his eyes.  He could see the bear standing above him.  The only thing he could remember was his basic training in the Navy Seals.  Jake kicked the bear in the nutsack and rose to his feet.  The bear let out another roar and collapsed to the ground. 

“Happy Valentines Day, mother fucker,” Jake said. 

He then pulled his ninja sword out from its sheath and chopped off the bears head.  It was time to go home. 

Jake had enough bear meat and blood to get him through the rest of the desert.  He walked off into the sunset anxious to get back to his magical flying submarine (which also happened to be named Valentines Day)        

The End

Currently listening : Brokeback Mountain By Gustavo Santaolalla Release date: By 01 November, 2005

Current mood: tired
Category: Blogging

As this story begins, I am being punched in the stomach by a giant half-man, half koala bear type creature. I’m not quite sure how I got here, but thats not important right now. The important thing is getting out. Under normal circummstances, I’d opt for a healthy kick in the crotch but in this case, I’m not even sure where this things crotch is. I look to my left. A chainsaw. No. Too messy. To my right? A spoon. Not my first choice in arms, but desperate measures call for desperate actions. Besides I’ve used stranger weapons to slay stranger beasts. As the koala man winds up to sock me again, I reach for the spoon. He hits me again and I go limp. When the beast bends over to suck out my brain, I make my move. I slam the spoon right into the eye of what looks like a cuddly koala bear. After that, he doesn’t look so cuddly. The monster falls to the ground and twitches for awhile. He’s not dead, but he won’t be bothering me any longer. I gather my belongings and leave. I’m never eating at this restaurant again.