Before You Go

Thank you Sarah Jaffe, that song title is oddly appropos to this particular post. If you wish to continue reading my inane rantings, complete with horrid profanity, you'll have to follow the link below:
The Motherfucking Zed (on tumblr!)

I've decided to move to tumblr because the interface here on blogger is retarded, and everything is ugly. Also, tumblr lets me blog from my phone. Which is good if you're into reading the most ill-advised drunk posts ever. Which of course you are.

Holy Shit

This particular blag, the one you are reading, titled "The Mother Fucking Zed" makes quite liberal use of profanity. If you're the type of person who is offended by grown-folk language I suggest that you kindly but immediately fuck right off and read something else. That's just something that occurred to me while I was making various design and formatting changes. I thought I'd mention it.

That's all for now though! I'll throw some more verbage at you later. And you'll fuckin like it. You dirty slut.

Mozart Made Sick Shit, Called It "Lake Buttfuck"

Rachel Getting Married is quite possibly the most depressing film, and easily one of the best films, I have seen in a very long time. Everything about it is absolutely splendid. I cried like a bitch at at least two points in the movie. It's sooooo gooooood. It is not about what the title would suggest it is about at all. It's about Rachel's sister Kim, and her shaky assimilation back into "polite society" including the awkward reabsorption into her own familial interactions, after her release from rehab. Awkward does not even begin to describe it. Shit gets fuckin crazy. Like, beat up your mom and then drive your car into the woods at 50 miles an hour crazy. Fucking. Crazy. Also, you will cry like a bitch, it's unavoidable, just accept it and move on.

In other news, I'm not wearing any pants. And I'm fine with that. Pants are overrated. No Pants Day is coming up, and I am excited about it. The first friday in May is always No Pants Day. Remember that. Take your pants off. "Girl take your socks off, I wanna see where dem legs goes, bare feet bare toes."What was I talking about? Check out this album: NA$TYJAM$ - CRUDBUMP. Drew is more or less my hero. Bald, awkward nerd, old with a silly looking beard but ROCKIN HARDER THAN MOST MORTAL MEN CAN SURVIVE EVEN HEARING ABOUT. "Hit # and dialed NPR, because it's paid for, by viewers like me. (that's PBS) Oh... I'M MAKING BIG BALLS PHONE CALLS." Seriously, shit is off the cheezy. If that's a thing. Oh, it isn't? Are you sure? Hm. Well, it's off whatever something is off of when it's totally fucking baller. Baller's still a thing right?

shit.

-The Zed.

I formed a blag, i formed a blag. Look at me! i formed a blag

That's about all I've got to say to you fuckers until I put some real, original thought into the idea of writing about myself. And not making it so goddamned self-absorbed. Also, if you're not familiar, the title of this particular blag is a reference to an Art Brut song called "Formed a Band." I hope you're happy now.

Cause I formed a blag.

I guess I should mention, at least in passing, that I don't know what is going on in my life. And i'm basically fine with that. I'm about 3 bad things from packing my shit and moving 200 miles north of here with absolutely no support structure. I'm ok living off credit cards if that means I can get the fuck out of houston. I just don't want to feel suffocated anymore. I'll choke your neck. Don't make me do it.

Love you!
-the motherfucking zed