Monday, September 23, 2013

Kick Ass Two Kicks Ass!

Kick Ass Two Kicks Ass!
By: David McGhee

So the day started like any other day of mine. Frank woke me in the morning and told my sleepy self some important things to remember. Then I went back to sleep and promptly forgot everything. All I know is that there was a cigarette on my book case when I woke up, and that made me happy.
Smiley face.
El, oh, el.
So after the first cigarette of the day I realized that I was all alone in the apartment. I think at that point I was remembering that Drew had a doctor's appointment. So I wasn't freaking out too bad. I took it upon myself to watch the original Naked Gun on Netflix. I forgot how much I love old Zucker Bros comedies. It sucks that they suck now. I mean... Have you seen Scary Movie Five? The only thing good about it is the opening scene with Charlie Sheen and I'm not even sure if that counts because the man probably doesn't even remember filming it. Geesh!
All the old jokes and one liners came back to me during the movie. “Nice beaver!” “Thanks, I just had it stuffed.” Pure comedy gold! Not as comedic as say a knock to the crotch but the movie has taste and style. It's the only movie series to get better with every sequel. One day I shall sit down and watch the other two. But for now I'm happy knowing that I gave the Zucker Bros a royalty check from watching Naked Gun on Netflix.
Weird Al Yankovic appears in every movie. Did you know that? The first movie he's coming off the plane. The second one has him being the bad guy in the corner near the door telling the copper that they've had it, coppers. And the third one he is with Vanna White I think at the Oscars. I could look it up but then that wouldn't make me a lazy bastard. And I don't want to disappoint my audience, do I? The only logical solution is to just make shit up.
We ran into this bearded guy at the Further lot at Red Rocks and apparently he made nice with Frank and Drew because they hung out with him a little before coming home. Hell. Who wouldn't wanna hang out with this guy?

Upon their arrival home I was told that I better get my good shoes on because I was going miniature golfing. Woo hoo! Now for the pregame breakdown. I paced the house about fifty times building myself up to it. I counted my steps and washed my hands six times in an hour. Man I needed a cigarette. So I got one. And then it was gone. And I was sad.
When we got to the miniature golf place we noticed the closed sign on the window. Not to be deterred from having a good time we all yelled “FUCK YOU MINIATURE GOLD ESTABLISHMENT!” and looked up some movie times.
Kick Ass 2 seemed like the best option. So we went to Dickies BBQ to eat and kill some time. Let me tell you their brisket and chicken are soooooo moist. It was like eating into jelly almost. Or Jell-O. You may have heard from various sources that there is always room for Jell-O. Let me let you in on a little secret... Depending on how big your container is, there is not always room for Jell-O. It's complete bullshit! That is unless they mean that there is always room in your stomach for Jell-O. In which case I'd also like to call shenanigans. What horse cock! If I'm full the last fucking thing I'm going to do is eat some Jell-O. What do they think I am? Fucking David the Jell-O eating machine who eats Jell-O after eating an already big meal? Fuck you. And the horse you rode in on.
We got to the Elvis Cinema (dollar theater) and bought our tickets for Kick Ass Two. It was slow getting started but when it went into full swing, oh man did it get gory! That girl, Hit Girl (I will not be bothered by IMDB right now. I have my reasons.) was so fucking awesome! And that geeky guy who plays Kick Ass went from scrawny geek to muscular hot sex man! I bet he gets tons of blow jobs for his body on top of the fact that he's starring in two major motion pictures. I'm sure he rides around in a limo in downtown LA snorting coke off of a hookers ass.
I've done that before. Not the limo thing but the snorting drugs off of a hookers ass. No one said the hooker had to be male though. Or even female. From what I remember I just saw it's ass. It could have been Betty White for all I care. I mean... Really. Cocaine!
Damn shit will numb your jaw and take all of your money as if you had married it and it's now seeking custody of the children. Fucking bitch. She can have them! What retard would put me in charge of a kid's life? I mean... I can barely figure out which shoe to put on first let alone feed, shelter, teach, and guide a youngster into prosperity would be the last thing that I would be qualified for.
But then again many people come into parenting without any prior knowledge and extensive criminal records and they have children just fine. Problem is that gay men don't get no love when it comes to adoption. Rosie O’Donnell went through hell in a malfunctioning golf cart to get her kid. And Dan Savage... Well he got his kid because all in all he's a pretty stable human being.
I swear when I was younger I used to wait by the pool table where my father sharked and he'd have me go to and from the bar giving him drinks. And my mom drinks. And their friends drinks. I was always wanting to help out regardless of the situation. But I've learned over the course of my life that if you protect shit your going to have it smudged all over your eyeballs in a big old handful of shit to the face. I'm serious. I used to be a heavy drug user and it totally fucked over eight or so years of my life. I mean it helped me fuck it up further. I was doing plenty of fucking up before I found heroin but damn... Fuck. Man that shit will become your whole life if you let it.
I remember before I got heavy into it I tried coke. Off a hookers ass. And I was telling the man who was in a band who owned the apartment that I had tried it once, loved it, and promptly cut ties with the guy who supplied it. It was just too scary. I knew I loved pain pills so smoking heroin seemed like the right thing to do. Why did I do it for so long? Imagine living under a cloud of self doubt and pure hatred for everything that is yourself. So much so that it physically hurts to move because your so depressed. I mean knot city and puking every time I went out in public. Heroin... Heroin made me, for the first time, feel like the world was a good place where people loved me.
Of course I know now that people love me but I didn't have the mind at the time to see it. I had the whole scene in front of me. The whole Denver oyster at my doorstep and I first fuck it up by being a creepy weird guy then I solidify my reputation as bad news when I started smoking dope in the bathroom at the Hi Dive. I know they knew. That's why they always kicked me out whenever I went to a show there. I don't blame them... I just hope they can forgive me for all the stupid stuff I did both sober and on drugs. It was sort of embarrassing being that weird guy. Persona non grata. I used to burn bridges so unwittingly that I was totally dumbfounded as to why my best friend Mike broke off our relationship only to find out later that, well to be truthful, I was sort of a dick.
I mean... The guy has a life. I should of known that. But I was seeing the world through the eyes of an undiagnosed autistic. I didn't know that what I feel and how I work were normal things for people like me to do. Most kids get diagnosed with Asperger's at age four to six. I wasn't diagnosed until 2009. Giving me plenty of time to fuck my life over before trying to pick up the pieces and rebuild my Emerald City beyond the hills. If only someone would of caught it sooner...
The funny thing is that I believe the Denver Police and the Denver Justice system saved my life. I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for their tireless efforts to rehabilitate me. It took damn near five years and a stay at the state mental facility in Pueblo Colorado... It was there that a psychologist took me aside and told me to look into Asperger's syndrome. I learned more about it and I was shocked to find out that people like me exist everywhere. People like me who can calculate the dimensions of a three dimensional sphere the size of Jupiter just using our minds and a little technology, but we don't look both ways before crossing the street.
I swear I can remember almost every fact I hear about science or something but when it came to remembering what my friends look like in a crowd... Or names. It usually takes me a while to learn names. I've developed a system of nudges and pulls to test the weather of a person before unleashing certain aspects of my personality. It's hit or miss and I miss more often than not. But on the times when I'm on, it's the greatest feeling in the world.
Smiley face.
El, oh, el.
Hrmm... Also today I designed a new button. Here is the new button.

It was supposed to be funny but it turned out more like modern street art with it's slang and cartooning. Definitely modern. I wanted it to come out cute and funny but instead some poor asshole is going to believe that it has some hidden deep meaning just below the kitten's eyes. Well let me tell you what you'll see if you look closely. Vectors and pixels. That's it my friends.
I've decided to go to the Art Institute in Denver in the Spring. I'm good at art and it's going to be nothing but art projects so... I think I'll at least do better than I did at CCD. Oh man the drugs I've bought from that campus... I swear everyday it was like walking into velociraptor refuge wearing nothing but lamb chops to cover my groin area.
The old junkies would curse at me when I didn't give them money. Then they'd curse me for getting back into the junk. Then they'd curse me when I told them that I was done with the Denver drug scene. I'd like to tell you that this decision was based more on my moral resolve instead of how shitty the quality of the coke downtown was getting... But it is what it is.
I now live in a wonderful apartment with my love and my roommate love. I love them because they are made of candy kisses smothered in caramel hugs! I know. Pretty deep huh?
All in all I think I had a pretty good day. Maybe tomorrow I can write some more and do a little running. I've started the foundation of my running career already. I've started walking ten blocks a day down hill and up. And I've started running little bits of it. I've found the secret to not getting that stitch in your side. The secret is to use meditation like breathing while you are being constantly active. You breath in real slow and exhale equally slowly. You'll get the urge to take in one quick deep breath but that will put you on the road to stitch town. You have to resist that overwhelming feeling and just keep your breathing paced. You'll be fine. I promise you.
Speaking of which, I was taught something called “Heart Math” in the state looney bin. You see you find a nice quiet place to sit or lay down. Then you imagine yourself in a calming setting. Then you choose your animal that will be by your side / on your lap. And you just concentrate on the touch of the animal's skin / fur on your hands.
Me personally, I pretend I'm in a library with a kitten on my lap. It's purring and kneading on my lap. It's so into me petting it that sometimes I drop it. But then I pick it up and resume loving it. While doing this I concentrate on my breathing. Timing my petting of the kitty with the breaths I take. I get so in the zone that I can get my heart rate down to like fifty or sixty beats per minute. One time I hit fifty five and they had to have me stop doing it. It was funny because everyone was certain that I wasn't paying attention during the lectures. But the joke was on them because when they first brought out the heart monitor I was the only one who could do it. But then I taught the other ones who wanted to learn how to do it. Soon whenever something got out of hand in the ward we'd just go sit down and pet our animal while breathing in and out slowly.
I suppose you could try it too.
Go ahead. I'll wait.
Probably do a little writing while you are doing so.
What are you waiting for?

*does a little dance, makes a little love*

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