keeping it fucking sexy. In 2003, Robert Downey Jr. was driving down PCH in California with a ton of "fucking dope" in the car when he suddenly decided to stop at Burger King for a meal. He said eating one of their burgers made him turn his life around.
He said, "I have to thank Burger King. It was such a disgusting burger I ordered. I had that, and this big soda, and I thought something really bad was going to happen."
He immediately dumped all his drugs into the ocean and decided to clean up his act.
Marjorie Cameron. I let john borrow sex and rockets. its a book about jack parsons, the guy who invented rocket fuel and jet propulsion. the guy who took america to space. there would be no neil armstrong, no apollo 13, no buzz lightyear, if it hadnt been for jack. no ones heard about him though because the man was an occultist. marjorie was jacks scarlet woman. he regarded her as "the fulfillment of magical rituals he had been performing as the beginning of the Babalon Working, roughly, an attempt to incarnate in a physical body a divine entity, a living Goddess, that would bring about great change for the Aeon of Horus and change the course of history." she starred in a kenneth anger film after jack blew himself up with jet fuel and explosives in his pasadena lodge. she was a painter as well. she later burned most of her paintings in the late 1950s in a symbolic suicide performed with her second husband Sherif Kimmil after they had been up for several days on speed and had formed what Cameron called a "suicide club". Kimmil slit his wrists in the bathroom at the same time as the burning. she didnt die till 1995.
just finished watching point break. i realized how much of a fucking bum-out its going to be if swayze succumbs to the cancer. but then roadhouse came on and i realized theres no fucking way that will happen. hes already survived a fucking plane crash. who was flying the plane? patrick and his dogs. and what did he do after the plane crashed? got out of the fucking plane and walked his dogs. get hard.
my dad told me today about the one and only chance he had to become famous. he was driving vincent price from the holiday inn to the airport here in chico when he was about 18. vincent told him that chico "sure had alot of almonds". my dad wasnt paying attention because he was imagining his name on the news the next day if he were to drive vincent price off the road and killed him. pops says wierd shit occasionally. (couldnt find a picture of the old man on the computer so heres what he would look like if he WAS famous.)
bianca has expressed to me that i am never kind to her. that i am the meanest and the worst to her out of all the boys. she told me yesterday that she is going to put me under the 3 strike rule and of course after the 3rd strike
she
will
never
talk
to
me
again.
I of course promptly swung twice and got 2 strikes within 30 minutes. Im going to call bullshit as I usually do when ever something trys to come out of her mouth. I want strike 3 right now. hard this hard
Give it to me you dumb little puerto rican. Struck out? Now bianca, if you can go a whole WEEK without saying ONE word to me, I will take you to candy tyme in the mall and you can get a whole bag on me. But if you lose, this will be the worst summer of your life. It will be filled with put downs, sarcastic remarks, mental abuse("mental" as in fucking crazy), constantly pushing you to the ground, abortions, tying your shoelaces together when your not looking etc etc etc..
other than that, i wish i was in LA with sean, gary and casey watching universal studios burn the fuck down. i hope it burnt peter falks office down. oldboy is fucking crazy and yells at everyone. if he wasnt famous im pretty sure/positive/convinced he would be just another crazy old man who talks to himself and screams at inatimate objects.
i feel bad about what i just wrote. i love peter falk and wish him no harm.