MySpacea place for friends

i bet you saw my picture and was like who the fuck does this dude think he is, a fucking trucker? and then you were all like, wait a minute, i wish i was as cool as him, or maybe i should just be his friend, because being friends with cool people makes me cool by definition. except for the fact that you can't be as cool as me because by the very attempt you make to try to be cool will automatically render you uncool and therefore inferior to me. but then again, everyone is less cool than me, except john cusack, but he's so fucking cool that cool needs to be redefined exclusively for him, i mean, fuck, like that is cool. ubercool (withOUT umlauts...how's that for cool). so yeah, you know who else is cooler than me? eliza dushku. because i want to bang her because she's so fucking sexy. but anyways, by now, you're probably no longer reading, but if you are, here's something i know you're thinking....why is this guy so fucking awesome? well, i play the banjo, write screenplays about myself exclusively, and have recorded an album solely of ashlee simpson covers. but it's so cool you'll never get to hear it. i'm also really fucking famous. not now, but in the future, because i'm so fucking awesome that i can travel through time as if i were a vonnegut character. i'm going to be the king of this fucking world. because i am that cool. why else am i cool? well, when i'm not studying the inner workings of cinema in school, my job is to guard the stanley cup. don't believe me? come to the hockey hall of fame and i'll be standing right beside it (only on saturdays). so there, that's how fucking cool i am. any questions? i thought not.

and in case you don't know me, i'm currently working on my masters in awesomeness at wottsamatta u. and in order to understand coolness you have to be really fucking awesome and cool. and see there's a fallacy here: most people believe that awesomeness and coolness are the same thing. and some even stupider people believe that coolness and coolicity are even remotely related; the latter is in fact a temperature gauge. how dumb do you have to be to not understand that! it's not rocket surgery or anything. but anyways, to properly understand ways in which someone has the potential to be awesome, one must step into the shoes of someone less awesome. now if these shoes are too small, one must poke holes in the end in order to get the foot in. because if not, one will get serious foot problems. i once had a problem like that. and my feet aren't that big. the problem was that i tried putting my foot into the shoe of a particularly uncool short person. and i'm pretty sure randy newman hit the nail on the ear when he said 'short people should be rounded up on a boat and nuked' or something along those lines. anyways, i'm getting off topic. you know who else got off topic? tristram shandy. he wasn't even born yet, but then that brings up the issue of how exactly one can write his memoirs without actually existing...because existing is the first step into awesomeness. and were i not born, i wouldn't exist, and therefore would not be awesome. do you see how this works? again, this isn't brain science. it might be for someone less awesome than me. perhaps someone who does not know how to play the banjo. or someone that wished they knew how to play the banjo. i'll tell you one thing, it's much harder than you think...still, steve martin is a fucking good banjo player. i saw him do it once. which reminds me, my ultimate life goal is to play both parts in dueling banjos - the guitar and banjo - simultaneously. i'm pretty sure i can do it as long as i can get my feet to strum. maybe if my nose grew like pinnochio's, i could use it as an extra strumming extremity. you know what i wouldn't use? well, wait, that's off topic. i haven't yet got to my birth. oh wait, this has nothing to do with my birth, yet everything to do with me being born. because coolness and awesomeness exist by extension of me. even if they exist outside of my realm, they are not the same level to which i have achieved. additionally, i've just realized that in my previous paragraph, i was rather crass, and in this one i've been so unbelievably polite. but i'm not going to just randomly swear. my mother taught me better than that. you know else taught me a lesson? the care bears. they taught me that if you protrude your stomach enough, magical rainbows will shoot out and always kill bad guys. i mean, they never didn't win. they should have killed off a couple just for shits and giggles. how else are children supposed to learn about death? even in ninja turtles, nobody ever died, they would just be either tied up or knocked temporarily unconscious. and the only time leonardo would ever chop someone with his swords, it would have to be a robot or a limb of a killer plant. and isn't that vegicide? i'm sure the vegetable rights people were all up in arms over that. they got to get a fucking life. shit, i just swore. i ruined everything. but that doesn't mean i'm not totally awesome. i would like to conclude with a poem i wrote several years ago that proves my awesomeness and usually infuriates most people. but that's what poetry is supposed to do. i think. or maybe i'm a bit of a lyrical sadist. and just to spite the reader, there will be no markings between stanzas or anything. mainly because i'm really not sure how to do it. if you know, please don't tell me because i know you'll think you're belittling me, but in truth you're just being a fucking douchebag and being ever so pretentious. and that's my field. as well as awesomeness. so without that much further ado. or not. because i don't want people stealing my poem, those poem stealers. so it isn't here anymore.