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17 February 2005"What up funny?"Call somebody up and just ask them that question. One can illicit toxic amounts of insanity just by calling people up and forming an oddly composed juxtopose. In the aformentioned pairing I choose to place emphasis on the last word. You come off like your confused but you know what your talking about at the same time. Weird you say? Well yess. That's what I like. I cannot stand the repetition of the daily inananites unless- unless of course, I'm going for some type of repetition record. This I do just for kicks. Okay. If you're reading this you're even more bored than I am so to amuse yourself- and this is really easy if you have firefox or simple old mozilla because you've got google spaced up in the right hand corner of your toolbar and you can just cut and past without actually having to type the word google in, but if you're really bored and want to laugh instead of jackoff (finger yourself, baby- I love a woman who knows her body so well, by the way) because you're going through lent or something (I'm going through my ramadan period right now- early, not muslim nor any religion- I AM my own religion)... back on point... cut and past these names for seconds, perhaps minutes of amusing laughter (lasts longer than an ejaculation, I swear!!): Steven Wright Mitch Hedberg Lewis Black Eddie Izzard ... Robin Williams doing standup is untouchable but I don't think he's done it (officially) for a looooonng time. If you can find some stuff on williams you'll laugh your ass off. My favorite poet might be William Carlos Williams coincidentally, perhaps because he's somewhat funny to me too. Not too serious. Saw an interview with him and I adore great people who never seem to take themselves too seriously (you can't really tell-ever) 14 February 2005(Some Observations from Saturday afternoon, Lake Worth, solo)funny how the cycle of manhood is represented so readily along the sidewalk here in lake worth. there's a somewhat beat up corolla or maxima or something, then my A4 then a mercedes clk then a porsche 911 that had a little muscular early 40sish dude get out of it with a woman who was clearly 6 inches taller than him, trim, and with gorgeous implants. go figure. the analysis: college (beat up maxima). after collegE (audi). marriage and family (mercedes). divorce and the hot stripper that comes after (porsche). see how observant I am. 9 February 2005If you were a man I would punch you. (This means nothing and is another line from Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy)I've been thinking short and easy about inventing a new language. In fact, I haven't been thinking about it all because I've been using it for, gosh, I don't know how long, but it's fun and it it works if you can make "guttural" noises. The kind of noises Rocky used to make when he was "Rock". Sort of. For instance I was speaking with a friend this evening and I was driving at the same time (with my earpiece, mind you) and he said, "Hey, hold on." I had just phoned him but it didn't matter so I gave him my "I don't care, hurry if you can, but who really cares because I'm driving and I'm not really going anywhere (at least in my very immediate area) guttural noise" which went something like: "uhhhyeahweeeDo" with a hard emphasis on the last syllable. When he came back, he said, "I gotta go, I'll call you back" and I responded with my "sure whatever dude guttural noise" which goes something like: "da ya hmm yaah oh" then click. No "Late" no "bye bye", just "da ya hmm yaah oh". And you know what? It sounded really GOOD. I enjoyed it because it allowed me to clear some of the phlegm I had been choking on as I played basketball today for the first time in a long sequence eerily sane moons. He knew what I meant and I felt at one with the metal on the outside of my car and the asphalt rolling carefree under my vulcanized man-made mechanical marvels otherwise known as continental tires. 3 February 2005Stay Classy San Diego. By the beard of Zeus! Fer fuck's sake. I think the only more depressing month of the year, more depressing than January would have to most definitely be February. I sense no life at all among the Frotifyers. I sense the time-elapse sensation of flowers wilting, snow falling, sludge and mud accumulating in the soul. This is all reason enough to make February into the most uplifting month of the year. We should rise up everyday and look in the mirror and say, "You Stay Classy Motherfucker!" and go out and bust ass to make life as enjoyable as it can be!! Let me use myself as an example. I've gone to the gym each night this week from 9-10 and then after that wondrous burning of the calories and profligate sweat that rolls from every tiny fucking orifice and seeping postule that emasculates this bacteria or virus that I am that wages war on the galaxy, I've engaged in drinking till my heart's content from 10ish until whenever. It makes mornings a real bitch and it goes from 6 to 6:46 with several smacks of the snooze, that long misshapen nozul of a button that is probably the emblem of the procrastinator- 6 to 6:46 in the matter of a blink and I re-evaluate my life every morning telling myself its terrible and its horrible and I don't know how I'll make a single penny today and somehow I get myself together and make it. By the time I've come home I feel like I've lived a a successful enough life that I'm ready to die again and wake up again and be born again but not until my brilliant fucking February has given me its best and I to it. I'm kicking February's ass up the stairs. Only 200 or so days until September and another glorious college football season. 1 February 2005Son of a Bitch! The year is just flying by. It's already 1/12th over. That pisses me off. I would've been a lot happier if I didn't know how to divide shit. There are two effects of division that make me crazy. One, like when I'm at the gym and on the life cycle for 50 minutes or something, I get 10 minutes in and I'm thinking, "Oh, shit. This sucks, I'm only one 5th through... Only 5 fucking times longer of this bullshit." And then. There's the other side of that golden coin: "Hey, I'm 30! Great! I'm about 2/3rds done living. I'm scared as shit of dying. That's gonna suck! Those last ten years or so look like a bitch!" 28 January 2005Ever wake up in the middle of a coke binge and ask yourself how the hell you ever got there in the first place? I have. Not funny. Nor has it happened to me within the last 7 or 8 years but the music I listen to takes me right back there sometimes, ie. "River of Deceit" by Mad Season. The alcohol is enough. Several months back I had an episode where I was sitting here at my computer listening to that ver song and imbibing way too much alcohol and creating a CD and I ended up calling up friends on the telephone. I told them that the ghost of one of our friends had come and was visiting me. He died while partying at a buddy's house in Akron doing something completely stupid (as he was) and I had the drunken audacity to call up a few buddies and say that his ghost was sitting over on the day bed beside me while I made a CD laughing at me while I cried, literally cried, in frustration and anxiety and stupidity and laughter while I made a CD that was recorded specifically for him. I called a friend in San Fran and another in Akron and then for the next 2 weeks I felt horrible. They both got word back to me that they didn't care and thought the songs were great and that it was just me being me in so many words but I felt like a real shit.. The night my buddy died, he had coke on him, and he owed me some, but I told him that I was only interested in a line and he could get me later because it was Wednesday and I wanted to watch cartoons (Southpark.... when it was semi-new) and be ready for Kent State the next day. Ouch. Howard Stern made fun of him the day after he died. I thought I was going to end up in the slammer for some reason even though he did it to himself. His mom was amazing. She soothed me. So did my ex-girlfriend's mom. My god, I wanted to die too. My good friends were all there. I still can't stand it but it changed my whole life forever. Gentner. PS. The thing I didn't realize until about 20 minutes after I wrote this is that a) for those reading this, I was not even there and there were a good number of good people there who tried to save him and who are so scarred that I cannot even know and that b) it was probably 7 years ago to this very day that this happened to Mr. G. and this makes me feel c) ultra-horrible, but I will go on remembering him every year, accidentally, like a David Bowie Hit like "Let's Dance" and yeah... Jesus, I'm sorry... Repub..lish. 20 January 2005Okay
today I feel a little bit better. As I drove by a church today (see
below if you are unfamiliar with this train of thought) there was a
mini marquee out front that read: IT'S NEVER TOO LATE TO LIVE HAPPILY
EVER AFTER. That was a relief. It's
funny how these churches have these messages out front that you know
are not direct quotes from the Bible, but even if they did they'd be
taken out of context anyway. So far,
keeping the 2 churches in mind, I'd pick the latter over the former.
"DON'T MAKE ME COME OUT THERE" sort of inspires me to stop taking drugs
and fear God while the latter makes me think that this 7th marriage
just might work out and that God wants me to get along with my gold
digging spouse. 18 January 2005I saw something tonight, driving home from the gym at 10:30, that really tweaked my melon and it was a chuch with its lights on outside and one of those cheesey marquees that anybody can buy (that are really fun to switch the letters around on but that's many other stories ago) and it read: "Don't make me come down there" God And I'm just thinking, Holy Shit! Did that sign just threaten me? I thought it was my parents up in their room smoking joints while my brothers, friends and I made tremendous booming noises all over the house doing our best Marcus Allen impersonations up and over the arm of the couch- onto the couch for touchdowns- every now and then form tackling someone all the way down to the floor- did I just read that? My mind flashed to a whole documentary (starring me as your frotifiable reporter of course) about how stifling religion can be in the hands of people who would incite the wrath of God OR ELSE! What fools! They quote God out of a 200th rendition of an interpretation of a person who wrote it down who was "touched by God" after it has undergone countless revisions, additions and subtractions and out of context after all of that. Religion is good if it helps people, but if it's people from a church just trying to make money, or in some cases trying to take over the world and undermine the evolution of humankind, then I have a sincere sense of rage that bubbles my brain into an odd monkish frenzy. Enough. But do you ever get the feeling that you were reincarnated? Sometimes I wonder if I've lived every other person's life in existence and I'm on my last one. Sometimes I think I have it pretty easy, especially compared to most, and most of the time I feel like it's probably pretty average. Just a thought I can meditate on for a lifetime sometimes. 12 January 2005See. (refer to today's news item) All you have to do is be rich and more importantly, famous, and you too get get a playboy model that is dumb (probably) and aggressive. Jeff Garcia clearly resembles an alien life form in an insane brown suit. 11 January 2005Maybe we should start a website... and call it www.bfd.com which stands for Big Fuckin Deal. Let's go down the list and see how you really feel about these items. I'll begin with the thing that triggered this thought:
that's nice and all, but so have many other "mere mortals". this is news?
I guess this all sort of falls into my recurring theme of whipping the dead horse until it disintigrates theory but there are many, many, many more news items that nobody really gives 2 shits about. that's why we should start BFD.com (Big Fuckin Deal. In conjuntion with gofuckyourself.com productions directed by thatsofuckingstupid.com studios) 10 January 2005 I have no idea what I'm babbling about below (8 Jan 05). Sorry
about the Gunter Chronicles if they are a little too self serving. My
ego is completely out of control. Most of the time it's normal. But
many times I feel a bit too self serving with all the shite, but people
seem to like it so what do I know? I think less may be more in this
instance. 8 January 2005 It should really matter what the hell is going on this world. As the weekend approaches there is really nothing quite like the absolute stupidity that accompanies tha American Weekend. From coast to coast there is that momentary gasp of relaxation. It's false, of course. Especially, if you have one of those jobs where people call you on the weekend- like me- where they call with a fake little pig that makes pig noises to make the pig noise-. It's fun. It's awesome. And we can't wait until Monday sometimes for these weekends to be over. But whatever. This is OpEd insanity and I'm not paid, and not paid to make sense for that matter, but for that matter in itself just remember... if you are reading this...we know... you are probably giving a charity worker in South America fits. (now stop it). 4 January 2005 To see my penis go to google.com and type in "penis" and hit images. Just kidding. That's somebody else's penises. 1 January 2005 I can't help but wonder how many people will watch "The Life and Death of Peter Sellers" and actually think of me. He was a sick, twisted egotistical person who was in love with every hot woman who walked by. He acted bizarre and his emotions weren't always well-coordinated. And imagine this: Today I don't even have a headache. Usually it's splitting on this day. 31 December 2004 This
is going to be it for this year. I don't know what next year is going
to be like. I just hope that I survive another year. My wife is prego.
She's due in April with a wee man. Cannot believe that my mother had me
when she was 18. She seemed so grown up back then. In kindergarten I
remember coming home upset as all the kids' parents seemed to be so
much older than mine. I was distraught by this and voiced my concern
with the parental units who were only 24 and 26 or so and my dad
totally jinxed himself because he said, "that's okay. Their parents are
going to die first." And. Like me, he had some black humor, but he "up
and died" on me when I was only 17. A week before my senior season of
football. Speaking of that. I remember
playing our rivals that year and getting sacked and the guys twisting
the hair on my legs and my skin on the bottom of the pile and saying,
"Ganja... we're going to send you to be with your dad." I
remember flying up out of that pile and shoving every single one of
those fuckers and my team having to restrain me (which actually
happened almost every play that game and many others as my o-line was
no great shakes- and I had a horrible temper-still do actually- and
alway have). Yeah. I remember that. 30 December 2004 A
friend of mine and I always spoke to one another following a major
disaster to come up with a tasteless joke. We thought it was cutting
edge and that we had to be the first. We usually just told it to each
other and a select other few. We used to have a knack for it. For
instance, following Princess Di's death we made up the golfing joke
about her fucked up driver. It was stupid but it made us laugh and feel
really guilty every time we told it to each other.... something to the
effect that her driver was wasted. My brain, useless as it is, couldn't help but want to come up with an awful joke: Least popular baby names in 2005.... Sue Na Mae... I know. I'm going to hell. It's ticky tack, but definitely foul. I'm
definitely sensitive to the reality. In fact I may post an email I sent
and one that I received from a client of mine who survived and who
lives in Thailand just to illustrate my more mature, serious side. It's
the other side of me that perpetuates this website anyway. Sorry
for no update yesterday. I had my foot cleanly outside of my shoe and
my toe was pointed a little off to the side. I wasn't "toe up" but
certainly "toe". Recipe for disaster: 4 J&B Rocks (1st half) Keep
in mind that I don't drink anymore, nor smoke- unless I'm drinking and
last night I couldn't find the two packs of smokes that I purchased
last friday night when I sat on my back porch with my uncle, his
girlfriend and 2 packs of parliaments. So. Last night I ended up diving
into a snack-pack size of cheese nips and ate half of the mini-bag
until my mouth was so dry that I had to slam a half glass of milk. Brushed my teeth. Went to bed. Woke
up and felt a little dry and coffee wasn't going to be helping me at
all after I hit snooze for the past half hour and it was five past
seven so I dove into the fruit bowl. The pineapple chunks completely
cured what was ailing me. Happy Drunk Eve. 22 December 2004 As
Christmas gets here you begin to realize more and more what a scam the
whole thing is but there is absolutely nothing that you can do about
it. The best part is you get to get wasted and when your mom gives you
that look like "you're too old to be acting like such a dumb shit" you
can shoot back that look as you raise your arms in the "I dunno" form
of expression, tilt your head to the side and with glazed over
bloodshot eyes just look back and say "Ma!?!? What!?!? It's Christmas
and I ain't drivin!" In my case I have to also indicate who to locate to find the frotuss because I typically "ain't holdin'". 21 December 2004 As the Holiday season reaches us and the longest day of darkness descends its long shadow I get taken to another world with the greatest of ease. 10 years ago to the minute I can remember Pearl Jam and "Spin the Black Circle" along with some ya-yo and some solid friends (who are still friends, solid, to this day) in Benny's basement. Those were heady times but there is no doubt that I was in touch with the spirit realm much as I am in touch with it today. But today it's different. It's more of a friend attitude. In those days I let it get the best of me and take all of me and if it were to land me in whatever kind of trouble that the good Lord or the Law had for me then that was fine. Today, I can feel that urge kicking me but there is more of a symbiosis and it knows that it can exist once again and evermore under the right circumstances. Not whenever the white bliss gets blown wherever or that tenstrip finds my tongue. These days are different now. I can reach into that box of yesterday and pull out that emotion that truly must be dusted off to belong to a human being. It cannot be described. I derived it from my own akwardness and looking into someone else's soul and seeing that uncomfortable familiarity. It haunts me most when I remember the seemingly intellectually deficient souls that I encountered along their journeys who weren't quite aware of the pins and needles that they were awakening within reticent consciousnesses. What a joy it was for me to see them walk away that night or early in the morning and realize a giant piece of their very own potential. That was always my way of witnessing shamanism. I was one of the "camp counselors" who brought together the corporate team with a hit of acid or an eightball of coke. In the morning they were going to make a go of it and become millionaires or at least enjoy a nice sympathetic jacuzzi together. I've been always happy to help show that the dirty child you were is your biggest component. I feel clean. Like I never even existed. 13 December 2004 Life
Is about to become a lot more boring as we know it. In fact it already
has. Football season is over for all practical purposes. College
football season anyway and all those people have to talk about is
recruiting which is for super-geeks and I'm only a part-time everything
so that goes for part time super-geek. My penchant for laziness does
that to me. What's worse is that they're fucking
talking about baseball constantly- not that there's anything wrong with
that but there are oh... what? One Hundred and Sixty-Two Games? So that
equates to being about 10 times more watered down than pro-football and
basketball? Well. You've got LeBron. Kobe's wife accusing Karl Malone
of asking for a little sex on the side, Shaq and Dwayne Wade and more
blah blah because you only ever have to watch the last 2 minutes of a
game and the games don't even count until April. Blah blah. So
what do we do? We keep ourselves as pre-occupied with absolute bullshit
like reading news on my cell-phone about recruiting and my worthless
overpaid sorry excuses for offensive linemen otherwise known as the
Cleveland Browns. Don't ask me what the hell a Brown is. Apparently
they've decided it's something like a Leprachaun which they used to
have a little symbol sometime a long time ago. Before 1980, because
I've been suffering since then to my recollection. And if it is
something like a Leprechau, let's change to colors to Green and Gold
and pick some kind of Leprachaun on Brown Acid freaking out and smoking
clover. The Buccannears changed their deal from that pussy salmon
orange to that badass look and then there are the Browns and while the
Orange isn't all that bad it's just not doing anything for me. I don't
know, maybe I'm wrong, maybe they can switch back to the Penn State
looking helmets from back in the day with Marion Motley. Okay, Okay.
This is boring. 7 December 2004 You'd never believe how many people have emailed me today and told me that I was going to hell. Just due to my Superstition thing. It's amazing how they all echoed the same sentiments: "Man, after you said that, you're definitely not going to heaven." At least I confront the issues here people. Maybe I'll never dream again. Who knows. 24 November 2004 Why is frotuss illegal and alcohol legal? Which will cause you to do the worst? Discuss. 23 November 2004 Ricky Williams is coming back to the NFL. Are you really surprised? He was just trying to get out of paying a $400k fine in the first place. These are pro athletes you're talking about and if you think that they train their entire lives like crazy just for "fun" you're kidding yourself. All the training that goes into the finished product on the field or on the court or wherever is no fun at all. The only fun occurs in the fleeting moments of the actual game, but 98% of the time it is not very much fun. It's like a see-saw and you eventually have to way the stack of money versus all the fun.. and blah blah blah.. I'm done with that topic. Here: Newsflash: I've got every news story that's on TV, Print or Radio right here: Summarized: 1. Pistons/Pacers Fight. (Frotuss.com broke it first because we published the story as it was happening. True story.) 1b. College Football Game Fight between South Carolina and Clemson marring Lou Holtz's final game. Here's a twist: Holtz, a Woody Hayes disciple (coached under Woody Hayes, notably in 1968) ends his career in fisticuffs against Clemson. The same team that ended Woody's career effectively. (Only if JoePa would just punch a fucking Ref... that would be hilarious.) 2. Dollar is going down (ahhhh ahhh ahh). Greenspan says there are negatives to the dollar going down... ahhhhhhhh.. ahhhh. bloody Murder!!! 3. Iraq and the international situation is desparate as usual. 4. Dan Rather hangs it up (Sadly this is bigger news that every homicide in America taking place right now. 9 people have been murdered in a very narrow area in West Palm Beach in the last 22 days. Anybody care?) 5. Sirius Stock is flying high and every idiot is lining up to by $500 bucks worth after it's already tripled in the last 3 weeks. (Come on down!) And you know what. That's all they're talking about. Just wait. A new wicked thing to get up in arms about is just about to happen. You'll be glad, too, because they'll leave that dead fucking horse alone that is the Pistons/Lakers horseshit that was pretty crazy, but I've witnessed it just as bad firsthand at an 8th grade basketball game where I was scoring like crazy and then the opposing team tried to hard foul me and I was making my technicals (while I looked at them like a real cocky little bastard-making faces) and the guys in their orange deer hunting suits started telling their kids to kill me and the players on the team actually tried to do it. Boy was that funny. That game got called in the second quarter and its a good thing for them because I'd already hit my 18 points which was my average. They were supposed to be good. 22 November 2004 The strangest thing happened to me one week ago, Tuesday. I woke up in my bed and had no idea how I arrived there. If you know me, you think that this is nothing unusual. I vaguely recollect my wife yelling at me. Things came to me in flashes. My head hurt. I looked out of the window to see if my car had been mangled by crashing into road hazards or various vagrants that like to pollute the streets, but it was not there. In fact I had just awakened from a delirium at 8:20am to bright sunny-ness. I checked my bank account to see where I had been and there were 2 enormous sums with the nondescript title, Southern Entertainment- but that was only after the strip club flashed for a very vague second upon my dimly lit memory banks. The scotch had erased all memory. I was an innocent in the scenario. I was with Tarbo. We had told my wife we'd be home in ten minutes but it was naught. She called the cops. The hospitals. The fire department. It was after 2 hours we arrived home. It was tuesday. And I've been really hating myself for a week. I've been thinking of writing a nice 3rd person Gunter Chronicle on this but the details aren't even sketchy. They're very blank, other than the beginning which was hilarious to me, because I was there, but just imagine very Grande Hotel. The Breakers in Palm Beach. It gets very ugly after that. 12 November 2004 Just so you know my trunk wasn't fucktified. I never realized there was a keyhole there that had to be unlocked. I'm really not a car person. Just a maniac who likes to drive fast. Like tonight. I went and picked up food from a restaurant and on the way back I came up to an intersection that has a left turn lane, two middle lanes and a right lane that crosses a street before it turns south on I-95 toward Miami (right) and the middle lanes were backed up and I downshifted into third and into the right lane at the on-ramp AS I saw the light was turning and bypassed about 30 cars and hopped up in front of them, back into the left-middle lane------ eeewww--- that was fun--- I felt like some steroid-freak badass for about 1/10th of a second---- I almost reached my hand up through the moonroof and flipped them all off but I wouldn't want to get stopped at the stoplight in front of them and... you know... awkward.... stupid... but... yeah. Fun. 11 November 2004 It is really funny how Lee Corso and Kirk Herstreit can sit there and commentate a football game and discuss how Florida State needs to pull their starter-pull their starter-pull their starter- in favor of the inconsistent former starter who has 1 touchdown and 6 interceptions because he senses pressure better and is more mobile and then the starter hits one outstanding pass and they're so troubled to compliment him because it means that they're real assholes who want to over analyze 19/20/21/22 year olds and pump themselves up as though they are some sort of fucking geniuses. I'm not angry. But I think you should have your own broadcasting team alternative. You should get a ghetto station, a redneck station, the typical jackasesses (Corso/Herbstreit/Tirico, et al) and the different teams can concentrate their own best efforts.
Quick cut...Shot from above... fade in slow through a ceiling fan from a high sweaty, dark, mexican hotel ceiling. Samuel L's lying on his back smoking joint with giant jerry curl, talking on the phone, "Yeah. That's right. I'm done walking the earth. I'm back. And I want my Bad Motherfucker Wallet back." As the shot widens, so do his eyes as the gorgeous spanish girl switches positions from facing him, to facing away. Quick cut... Shot from the front of the girl (fading in quickly)... showing everything... grainy black line quickly flashes across the screen with that grainy record noise in the background filling the scene with white noise. Then she gets stabbed or something. Maybe the world's not ready yet. 9 November 2004 I found something interesting while surfing the web. An article and a story about a princess from Transylvania who had moved to the states in the early 1900s and settled not too far from where I'm from. In fact I always remember going out to party at this giant boulder in the middle of all this farmland along some dirt road. This Princess moved there but kept her royalty a secret all her life because she feared that she'd be assassinated like her father and uncle. 
One of the things that always freaked me out about the place we partied
at called "The Rock"- drinking our Nattie Lights and Busch Lights, and
Busches and Malt Liquors- was the name of the road- NICODEMUS.... which happened to have been where Amelia Pamer, the princess lived.9 November 2004 For fuck's sake. College football season is almost over. So today I joined a gym because people are telling me that I'm fat. I joined so that I could play racquetball mainly and deal with the fact that I'm 30 pounds heavier than I was 10 years ago. Son of a Bitch! At least I'm glad that thanks to Sheff's inspiration Frotuss is full of freshness. The rest of the internet was really bullshitty today. I would never tell anybody that they're fat. For my wife's birthday she received a necklace and a vacuum cleaner that vacuum's the floor by itself. The Roomba is sweet because its like a little friend for my dog. She's a little jealous of Roomba but I have the feeling they're going to be the best of friends. 5 November 2004 How cool. My car is back from 3 plus weeks of being in the shop due to Hurricane Frances. Goddamnit anyway. I don't care what you think about the Germans as a species of Humans, I enjoy their AUTOS disproportionally. Just the thought of my black leather interior makes my want to jump into it at 5:33 in the morning and crank up some muscle-song by the Black Keys or a likewise romantic song by U2 or Neil Young and drive out alone down Okeechobee Boulevard between the reeds and the swamp with a dead body in the trunk/or not. Nevermind that they didn't actually fix the trunk to a "T" where I could actually press the trunk button and it actually open. I wish I could drive around drunk as I am and smell that fucking leather. 1 November 2004 Good day. This past weekend as you might've known by participating was Halloween. Many people dress up in costumes and I took part in this as well. In no way shape or form was I the same as I was last year when I dressed up like a pirate with a giant whig, of black curly hair, while I was wasted. I tried to become wasted but the service of our waitress was non-existent once we moved to a table in the window so we could look out onto Chlamydia Street in West Palm. Lame-ass beer was in a bin next to me so I did what I was dead set against doing and ordered one. The reason for my lament was because I wanted to merely drink Tanqueray X (TX) with tonic and limes but not for the reason that you might think: I didn't want to have to take a piss every 5 minutes as I so often and compelled (I was in a Monk Get-up) to do. You know. People everywhere and all over the place and in your way kind of shit really bugs me. So I decided the solution to my ever increasing bladder and its ever-increasing production of liquid (not the sticky kind) was to suck down the citrusy wonder that is TX. It also helps me manage my anger- which is a whole other television show. So I drank 1 BEER. One. And within 6 minutes (I swear it had nothing to do with my rapid consumption of the 5 TX's) and walking around and looking for a place to plant ourselves that was different I was in need of drainage. Fortunately, my wife decided it was time to go and I utilized my favorite old trick from my days of pretending I was a rugby player who had gotten drunk and took a discreet knee in the shrubs next to the parking lot and felt much better. The one knee is a great device because you can make like you're checking the air in your tires or act like you're doing something important in a low area, and as long as you have your back turned to those most prying eyes you can create a rainbow and no one is the wiser. When you're drunk it can be pretty fun, too. 21 Octoberfest 2004 Sorry I've been away. But my Buckeyes have me off my plate of late and there is no solid excuse for the way they're playing. I say nothing. In other news there is a national election which is sure to give several an erection and reminds me of the first time I got into the website thing with voteinternational.com with Mr. S. Those were heady times and Mr. S sure wrote some hilarity back then. That was some funny shit. 7 Octoberfest 2004 Hello. A funny thing happened on my way from the couch to remote last Saturday. A friend. A client of mine phoned and notified of the mysterious death of her beau. It sounds mysterious indeed but the client who called is 67 and the boyfriend was 69 and rather large. He died because he went to bingo one night about a month ago. Being the genius that he was "Natural Selection" ravaged him when he sat down upon two of those crazy plastic chairs that you can find at bingo halls in Delray Beach, Florida. At 5'9, 350 or so sitting on two of those fuckers was not such a good idea as his obvious momentum carried him forward, pinching him all up and surely carving out a meteor-sized crator on the floor. The pinching part had to do with a cut on his leg that required a visit to the hospital, stitches and eventual return to the hospital to heal. His girlfriend (they're both clients) needed to have cancer removed from a lung. She went in for surgery. Spent 2 weeks, while 2 floors below he was in oblivion being treated for a cut leg. She escaped the hospital, but my other friend that I've known for the better part of 4 years was not so lucky. While in there we spoke on the phone often and I made him money and his account reached levels never before seen. Naked puts- but nevermind that- loading up on undervalued high yielding tobacco and oil tankers- but nevermind that- his account made him cheerful. Weeks passed. He received a new surgery. He was dismissed to a rehab facility for treatment on his leg and eventual release. It was not meant to be. My journey from the couch to the remote, which incidentally required me not to even lift my legs, was interrupted by the daughter of client "A" who said, "GANJA, it's important. Call me back at my house." I did. "Ganja, _____ died." "What?" "He died." "You've got to be kidding me (people from Akron, OH overuse this phrase, but in a fit of disquiet I couldn't control my contempt for my own genetic landscape)." "We think they killed him." "Well, of course they did. Those fuckers will pay. I'm calling my attorney immediately." "Ganja. Don't worry. It happens all the time." "I can't just stand down and do nothing. I hate the healthcare industry. We're all just faceless masses of flesh deserving nothing more than death..." I stopped. "Ganja. He didn't want his kids to get anything anyway. You know how rotten they are. They steal. Did they ever once call and ask how he was doing? They knew he had his hip replaced 6 months ago, but did they even call to see how he was doing." "Of course not. They only called whenever they wanted to rob him." "That's right." "Fuckem. Can't bring him back right?" "I'm sad. But you're right." "It is sad. It's horrible. I'm still going to call the cops." "They won't care." "We'll see." On Monday. I phoned the police's elder care division of Boca Raton, received a voice mail and never was called back. We'll see. 2 Octoberfest 2004 Last night I drank from 4 until 8thirtyish and ordered some awesome Shephard's Pie at Brogues ("what do you do with a drunken sailor, what do you do with a drunken sailor- early in the morning") Irish Pub. Before that we were at Bru's and the talent was outta sight. I guess the way to jinx yourself is to say you don't do it anymore and voila- it happens! (see below post). It's Saturday and I've been up since 5:30. Strange how drinking causes me to go to bed really early and then I roll out of the rack way easy and earlier than I do during the week. I woke up and said, "Shit man, I got to get to work." Then I thought for a second and said, "No. Fuck. Wait. It's Saturday." Then I said, "No. It's Thursday." I don't know why I thought it was Thursday, but I did for a sec. "No. It's Saturday. Go back to bed." I laid down and decided to get right back up and watch TV. Then shat and drank coffee, all after thinking, "Fuck. I have a meeting at the office at 10:45 with clients on Saturday anyways! Might as well get out of bed." Sorry about all the profanity, but my brain doesn't filter out such foul nast things. It's just the straightline wide-wide-wide broadband slugging it out in my Gulliver. Last night I only drank beer. And that was smart because I feel fine today and I didn't piss my wife off by coming home and urinating on the bushes outside the door with my wank out for the 81 year old neighborlady to see. That would not be good. No more frotuss for me though. No real desire for it. Frotussfans must be disappointed in me, but I haven't been a hardcore frotifyer for a couple years now due to the fact that if I get frotified, I crawl up in my gulliver and think about work and I don't like to do that. The sad part is that I love to write frotified and i haven't felt like writing nearly as much since my frotification has ceased. With Mrs. Ganja expecting a child it hardly seems like much of a practicality anymore whatsoever- so there are my excuses. In other news, I'd like some of my friends to tell me all about the DJ, and the restaurant and all the happy, success stories they run into at our 10 year class reunion that I'm not even close to considering attending. Did we have one of the ugliest, in terms of girls, graduating class or what!?!? (To anyone reading this painfully- I apoligize.) We had a few that were alright. But man. I can't even imagine what it must be like for these lucky, lucky little wigger bastards that let their shorts hang below their fucking boxers down here. These chicks down here in Florida outnumber the guys, are everywhere, and are little horny hussies. For instance, just yesterday, I'm with Jackson and Tarbo and we are riding through Lake Worth after lunch and these White Mustang chicks pull up next to us. I notice them. A train comes so we are stuck sitting next to them and they are blonde, endowed, beautiful, wearing bikinis on their way to PBCC (Palm Beach Community College), I can see right down their shirts because I'm in the backseat of Jackson's SUV. It's 93 degrees outside and they have their windows rolled down and the hottest one in the passenger seat (think Brittany Spears times 3 and skinnier) keeps sticking her head out the window as though she's trying to look some place far away- but she's not- she wants Jackson, or Tarbo or I to tell her to come back to our offices and make passionate love- or something- there's no way she's looking real far away unless she's got x-ray vision and can see through a greenish Ford Explorer being driven by Jackson himself. I'm sorry that I had to deny her the verbal attention that she was seeking but I just couldn't. I should've for Tarbo's single ass, but I guess after a meal I'm not too into making love connections. Drink and watch football. 30 September 2004 In other news I haven't been drinking that often. Not as much as I used to but for some reason I felt really drunk this evening. It must've been some sort of insane flashback. I called people on the phone and started harrassing them and giving them all sorts of hell. There was no reason for it other than momentary insanity. I'd have to recommend it to everyone I know. 29 September 2004 Just got back from Ohio. It was a wedding in my wife's home town. I forgot a tie and had to buy one from the local boutique. I walked right in and past the sale right at the entrance where it said "Sale 50% off ties". My mind said "this shit is fucking ridiculous, I can't believe my mother-in-law said they don't have any namebrand ties. No Polo. No Pierre Cardin. Not even a gimpy Tommy. Van Heusen? What the fuck is Van Heusen?" (It's a very pretentious mind I have- try living with it- virtually impossible.) I searched and found some off brand silver tie with square dotted pattern that looked clean. It was the most expensive tie. $25.00. After a Thursday night- getting in late after missing our plane on the way there and finding out Hurrican Jean was coming right for my house while standing in line at the airport- feeling helpless about my shutterless home we woke up Friday to flitting around the small town, visiting with folks. We wound up at the local Elks' club for prime rib after the rehearsal for the rehearsal dinner. Saturday was similar. Visiting my father-in-law's church again (no it wasn't the church of frotuss, but I've been giving strong consideration to my own religious order and how that would all work- I'll be fleshing that idea out as it comes to me-definitely not today, because I'm feeling lazy right now). Saturday evening: wedding. My wife read and did a good job. Reception. Back to watch Hurricane all night long and slept for a total of about 1.5 hours. I kept calling my house waiting to hear my answering machine pick up. It didn't and I assumed my power was out. Sunday I requested to get taken home the next day, Monday so we could avoid any power outages. Columbus was fun. We met friends and had dinner at the Ocean Club in Easton. The Grey Goose martini was so good that I could've drunk 6 or 7 but I switched after 1 to sparkling water then bought a bottle of Rabbit Ridge Merlot, California 2001 to have with my Brother Rasta who trekked down to visit with us. My Wasabi Grilled Tuna was excellent. Monday we tried to get home and not long before hitting the runway our plane pulled up and we were diverted to Huntsville, Alabama where we sat on the runway for 3 or 4 hours waiting and when offered to get off the plane we did and got another rental car and yet another hotel room. Our 3rd hotel. Our 3rd rental car. I guess people on our plane sat there for 5 more hours, finally had food ordered for them (pizza) and made it to Atlanta around 1ish. We were glad we escaped that noise and made it home yesterday at around 5:30ish to traffic lights once again not working but this time there was power in our home. Last time we had to go 6 days and I wasn't about to deal with that again. It turned out that the reason my answering machine wasn't picking up was because the same problem that had happened before, happened all over again- and that is you can call and I can pick up and I can talk to you but the ringers won't work on any of the phones. ciao, Ganj 22 September 2004 It's my opinion that we are bottled up by the languages here on planet earth. It may be a cause for much of our strife. Pretty arrogant of us to think that we have discovered every elemental aspect of the human condition. Maybe its part of the reason for all these wars, religions, different languages. Perhaps as the spectrum of the human condition goes we haven't gotten much further than one diode of color on the spectrum wheel. There's so much more to language that is unsaid or unspoken. For example, those prolonged animalistic staredowns between a man and a women in the marketplace or even as friends across the room at a party. There's probably 2 things being thought: a) she's thinking "what a creep. why's he staring at me like that ? this is really wierd. Fuck it. I'm staring back until he stops staring. b)he's thinking "look at that hot chick. all she wants to do is fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I know it. She's staring at me because she's so goddamm horny I can see the horns coming out of her head. Look in her eyes. She's a closet whore. I could swear she's inviting me to some secret place to do naughty naughty things to me. ... nahhh" See. Grotesque differences of very subtle quality. But there are even more base, animalistic qualities of language that surpass all hinderances of voice, data and whathaveyou- for instance, the way an erect penis almost calms itself like a ship's mast that has harried itself through rough waters aboard that oceangoing vessel to get through the storm to that calm sunny front of a woman's open, inviting particulars. The penis, brash and intolerant has finally met his match and he knows it and begins to think "oh, goodness. what have I gotten myself into? I'm actually going to have to back up all that talk." It is the calm before her storm, but there is a conversation going on there between the two areas of flesh whether or not the bodies that own those parts want to own up and say anything or not. The penis is like a braying ass- all the time. Trust me. It brays and brays and a man can tell it to shut the fuck up but that's not really doing it any good. Every solution only seems to make it worse. The ship sails on. 21 September 2004 I've cooled a little since my bad day last week and I'm no longer planning too much revenge. Tarbo may simply have to live down one of his many foibles that I have a very telling record of, perhaps my video of him frotussing and singing and dancing to the Pointer Sisters' "Jump". Yes, it's quite hilarious and I have it in an MPEG4 file. I'm more mad about being robbed. I had 4 cases of CDs stolen out of my car and my wife had her teacher's ID stolen along with some other small items. I was more mad about that than anything- so- along with my rear end of my car being smashed by a hit and run artist I have to burn any CD that I want to listen to that wasn't in my CD player. The officer who took our report, which I was reluctant to do, said he knew he it was and it was some crackheads and this was their usual "MO" which is police talk for "that's how they like to do it" which means that they break into things that aren't locked and take stuff like change and rifle through your stuff. Typically stuff that's not nailed down, like our neighbor's bicycle that was sitting up against their front door. I'm going to have to get revenge on them now too. 16 September 2004 Frances has come and passed. My power is back. I'm not drinking like I had been. In fact I rarely find myself drinking at all these days. It reminds me a song by a local musician from Lake Worth named Bob McCall and his song called "A Few More Beers". The chorus is real fun. It goes: "A few more beers, a few more beers, a few more beers and a shot." The part of the song that reminds me of my current state, which as of today has been one of extreme depression and frustration with what, I don't know- but the part where the music stops and he goes: "Now, I stopped drinkin' 'bout a week ago. Haven't had fun ever since. Haven't had fun for about a week. {Music fires back up} Guess I'll start drinkin' again." Now, I know that's not why I'm depressed. I just believe that the stars have me betwixt summer and fall and my druidic celtic origins have got me all bent. Football season's got me preoccupied. And my wife is pregnant, ergo the no drinky too muchy no more-y and I'm now going through a case of Perrier and a case of Peligrino every week as I drink the stuff like it's beer now. I'm a carbonated water-aholic. Oh. And to you fuckers at work. Revenge will be mine. ganja 25 July 2004 Did not get too drunk at all this weekend. Call fucking Ripley's! I'm definitely on a Corona Kick. Corona and limes. Corona and Limes. Football season is 41 days away (college). UHHHHH.... Just work, work, work. The weekend comes and I've been a serious vedge because of my new video game. I'm hoping for my wife's sake that it wears off soon. Just got off the phone with a Mary Kate Olsen(sp?) lookalike. Very cute on the phone. 5 July 2004 Returned from San Francisco, and Frotussfest on consecutive weekends. Last night as I drank more I thought my brain was going to explode. I received a shot of pain that almost forced me to fall out of my chair. I started taking deep breaths. We skipped fireworks due to fatigue and crashed somewhat early. I layed there all night thinking I might not wake up if I fell asleep as the lightning shot through my cranium. Oh. It was fun. I remember most of it and all of those who came. I won't be publishing pictures on this website but there will be some on my non-profit site as frotuss is a very private club. Thanks to everyone. I think I owe some people money because I woke up with money in my shorts. I'll be in touch. Ganja 22 June 2004 This weekend I go to San Francisco for the first time in my known existence. I know it's ridiculous, but, hey, you gotta live sometime. There have been no alien spottings lately, but I've been practicing my drinking all week long so that I can stay alive out there on the left coast where they actually have HILLS! We have none of those things around here in Florida. If you drive east off of the coast of Florida for a minute or two there's about a 3 mile hill or so straight down and under water. That's all I know of any hills around here. (See you gotta think outside the box.. or in this instance, outside the continent.) 30 May 2004 Last night I was abducted by aliens. Other than talking to old pals on the phone for hours and my mother in a mildly murderous stupor the way I know that I was abducted by aliens is that I have giant blisters: one on my left hand between thumb and index finger, left knee on the left outside area, and a monster on my left achilles tendon. Aliens did this to me. I am sure of it. I also looked like a real jackass on television. 29 May 2004 This afternoon I was at the Shell Gas Station and the camera guy was there in the parking lot filming dumbasses just like me who were there buying gas. For some reason, the number 89 gas was covered up and I knew, I knew why. There was something wrong with SOME gas stations which happened to be Shell Stations in South Florida. I happened to go to one and there was sulphur in the gas or something or other. So I'm going to be on the 6 o'clock news because unbeknownst to me the camera guy was there filming me for about 5 minutes. I looked up and he was like a scared voyeur who was caught with dick in hand only his dick was a television camera. I said, "Hey. If you want a real hot story go across the street and check out those two blondes the sherriff just busted of talked to or whatever." He said, "Yeah, I saw. If I was a cop I would've pulled them over, too." 29 May 2004 Last night, I took the foot cleanly out of the shoe and pointed my big toe straight up into the air (I got toe up). It's okay though because I woke at 6:56 this morning to no ill-effects!! I went to my cafe shops and ordered a Frotuss.com shirt for baby brother's june 1st birthday. He's going to be the first kid on the block to have a frotuss shirt. I was able to order him a nice ugly green one, too! And for some stupid fucking reason I'm not able to sell the lime green one, I'm only able to buy it myself. I did order it a size too small because the youngster likes things to be tight (pronounced: toight; as in Mishta Powers, I see you have a very toight body... If you get what I'm alluding to then you are cool and belong on this website... if you don't, well, there's still time for you to become cool because you are not dead yet.) (Ganja has: A Lewis Black Moment) Anybody like baseball? If you do... you're in luck because there seems to be a whole shitload of baseball going on all over the place. In my case, I happen to be really fucking pissed off, because I fucking hate baseball! What other sport features a guy standing in dirt getting a buzz from a piece of tobacco stuck under his lip. Last time I checked Shaquille O'Neal wasn't slam dunking with a cigarette hanging out of his face. Fuck it. There's only 98 days until my Buckeyes take the field I don't even want you to explain to me what is so great about baseball. I've heard it all before. Save your breath. 27 May 2004 For most of the untied states it is just about summertime. Where I (ganja) reside, Florida, our thermostat is stuck on Summer all year long. That means fewer snow birds and super-cheap golf. So, I have decided to take it upon myself to break a sweat every single day. After this past weekends debauchment, which consisted of a quiet friday, a loud Saturday where we played music really loud and Mrs. Ganja busted out her Strobe Light. Sunday Mrs. G (or Wine Mistresss, for anybody keeping score) couldn't escape her ragged feelings while Mr. Tarbo and I persisted to imbibe all day. I had too much vodka and came to work on mondy thinking I just had to turn over a new leaf. I have. I bought tennis rackets and played yesterday for an hour. I have a tennis court 200 feet away, I figured I should take advantage instead of becoming the ragged fat slunk down mean faced drunk that I so often become. Remind me to get the T-Shirt thing going. Ganj. 25 May 2004 Thus
another month comes to an end. Frotuss.com is sorting out its commerce
department. They say that cooler heads will prevail, but if ours' get
any cooler the light that burns within them will go completely out. We
sense the need for a ramp up in our efforts on the website. We have to
stop playing hide and go sneak with seals in offices like that
commercial that makes no sense. We have to stop spinning our wheels in
the sand at the beach and rise up above the waves of dispassion. ....wait.... Oh, forget all that happy horseshit. In the immortal words of Pope Pious the Vth, "come again?" In Frotuss.com News we have learned of various conspiricies.... developing.... 7 May 04office chatter: Subject: RE: LOST BINDING MACHINEG 5 May 04Today
I got "toe up". Take your foot out of your shoe and stick your big toe
UP in the air. Yeah, that's what happened to me today. Toe up. Cinco de
mayo. Hold the lettuce.
The
weary soul wakes to another day in the universe. He awaits his
unveiling; the instant when the birds and the butterflies become
acquainted with his being. Until then he bides his time and walks
briskly down the hall to another corridor not really wanting for much
of anything. Complication and education can be his enemies if he is not
wise enough to allow for them teach him what it is that is their true
meaning. Today has been a day in the revolving door of truth. The soul
caught small glimpses of wisdom in the photons and rays of sunlight. 28 April 2004And so it begins.
With haggard and bearded skepticism the archaeologist surveys land
where buried beneath lived and danced the sorrows and wonders of ages
past. He seeks not to be bound by laws of man or even nature. It is his
calling to unearth history and thus change the future. Welcome To Frotuss! (initial News Entry)4-20-04Here at Frotuss Enterprises we are proud to bring you an assortment of normal to abnormal writings as well as interesting pictures to make your day a frotifiable memory. We the brothers of Frotuss would like to thank all those who visit and recommend you check in from time to time for we will be updating the site on a regular basis. In the near future we plan to have a line of Frotuss attire for purchase as well. As we are a growing organization we encourage any feedback and look forward to keeping up with the Frotuss connections. Sincerely The Brothers of Frotuss.
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