Free Zine! Get your Free 5-0 Zine, here!

Have you ever wanted the mail to move quicker?
Have you ever thought, 'Hey, I wish my stuff from UPS would get here already'?

I'll bet you haven't--but I have.

I, for one, plan on not tipping either of them when my goods arrive. I'm waiting on two highly anticipated mega-awesome things. Sneakers and a phone. Yea, two of the biggies.





Sneaks:
-Nike Free 5.0

















Boom.


Feast your eyes on these bad boys. It's like running barefoot.... but in shoes! It's some new hyper space-age technology that apparently sweatshops in Vietnam are privvy to to help strengthen and correct the natural gait of the foot when running etc, etc. They weigh like 0.006 ounces and have microfiber mesh. Sounds dee-lish. And they look, I believe the review said 'badass as shit', so that can't be bad.

Apparently Men's 9.5 is the hot size in Montgomery Mall, as it was the floor model for the shoe and they only had one (what did they do with the other Nike shoe? What can anyone do with just 1 size 9.5 Nike Free 5.0 left sneaker?.) It happens alot. I think I have what's called 'perfect foot size' in the biz. No big deal, they'll mail me two new ones right to my door no shipping.

Sign me up. I can feel those 9-year olds finishing up the ultra light polymers and mangling their Vietnamese fingers as we speak -- they better get here soon.




Phone:
Motorolla Zine



















Check that action.

Is that a lead pipe in your pocket or do you just have a boner? Both.

This puppy is packed with enough 5.0 mega-pixel who-dads and ultra wi-fi whats-its to turn Mine That Bird into Glue That Shelf.

I'm talking a list of things I don't need and will never learn to operate on a phone I'm guaranteed to break within 5 hours of drunk (3 weekdays or one weekend morning). I'm literally drooling to load it up with heavy metal songs, take pictures of my own crotch, and twitter update like a maniac with this baby. It's the sports car of phones. Only it's like a V-6 2005 Mustang. There are faster and crazier phones-- but I'm a cheap bastard. And let's be serious here -- the women can't tell the difference between the V-6's and the V-8's. They just know it's pretty. And they just can't wait to drool all over my johnson. (Hey Meghan!) And that's getting mailed to my ass from T-Mobile.


Yea, I'll pretty much be the talk of the town. Running at uber-speeds and uber-texting while wearing my Rite-Aid sunglasses I bought yesterday (they say Nascar on the side but it's really really small print and only on one side so I don't think anyone will notice). I'll be a big deal.

So here I am, coming home from work everyday, just waiting for my fill of 'package' if you catch my drift--and nothing. It's a damned shame. The best part is: I've already been charged for both on my credit card.

Really? Since when is it that we live in a world where you have to pay for something before you get it? Certainly not since I've been using prostitution.

Fly you bastards, fly!

A Cold Kind of Freedom

Between these palms the cold steel of freedom.
These four walls, the calcium rust of release is
Dripping, drying, dripping.
-I never wanted this-

Insulated away from the hard edge of facts.
In the subtle tastes, in the stagnant air,
Growing in me, letting go.
-I hear it scratching-

Time passes here in scrawled etchings.
Numbers lose their form and drip out into
Things, words, meanings, nothings
-I go numb within it-

Ghosts pass by, they can not reach here,
These bars keep them at bay, keep them
Drifting, fading, clouded.
-I am safe in here-

Sounds are under water here.
Uniforms walk by, the sound of their steps
Filling, cov'ring, drowning me in sleep.
-I was never guilty-

Murder can not find this place.
Nothing can find this place, memories
keep going, slipping, gone.
-I can't feel the pain-

This slab takes a piece of me every night.
The tick of time, the cold steel, take
More and more and more.
-I am these walls-

The face is a distant foggy memory.
It never happened, and I am calcium rust,
Dripping, drying, dripping.
-I am home-

the desert

I want to party hardy in the desert.

Like I'm talking all sorts of twisted drugs and booze. I'm talking fear and loathing (which, I coincidentally happen to be reading right now) kinda tweaked.

Fucked up, from the nuts up.

Think about it. During the day you'd see all sorts of crazy wavy lines on the distance called 'mirages'. And then at night you'd hear things like 'coyotes' howling at an obviously full moon. And this is all before the drugs even kick in.

Imagine it-- chewing on tiny-hair pointy cactus (cacti), laughing at rock formations in 120º heat (look up that fancy º shit. I'm talking ALT + 167), drooling on miles and miles of sand, and passing out over a nest of rattlesnakes!

Why would we want to do that, right?
Cause it's
Bad. Ass.









Josh Homme (Queens of the Stone Age, Kyuss, Eagles of Death Metal, etc) took some of his fellow musicians out into the desert, tripped balls, and recorded "The Desert Sessions". When asked what the compilation was they only answered "it can not be defined". Woa, my badass alert is going off.


Also badass, and maybe not as 'desert' related so much as 'scorpion' related, was my 'ultimate conundrum (which could happen to you while wandering the desert in a drugged-up stupor.)







Remember the 'boo-box' from Hook? Where they throw the guy into the treasure chest and drop scorpions on him? Well what if in some weird twist of fate the choice is yours? As I asked people on twitter (yes, it's a disorder that is very serious and you shouldn't make fun of anyone who has it. If you have this disorder you can reach me at nickapozzi and I will follow the 'ever-loving-shit' out of you) : Would you rather eat hundreds of little scorpions alive? or have hundreds of little scorpions eat YOU alive?


Start thinking about it now, cause tomorrow you could have to answer the 'ultimate' question. Anyhow, if you're ever wandering around the desert, strung out on coke, mescaline, whatever, do NOT accept a ride from this man.














“We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers…Also a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether and two dozen amyls. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge.” –Raoul Duke



So there you have it. It doesn't sound like much of an argument for the desert. Some might even claim this blog is more of an argument against the desert. But is it?

Think about it.

Get a LOOK at THESE prices!

http://www.noir-medical.com/uv_red.htm#Dark

Are you blind?

Do you read my blog daily and think "Gee, I'd rather look cooler and be reading this badass blog with sunglasses. Ones just like all the other famous blind people I emulate wear."


You're in luck!


I've recently discovered a web site where you can log on, check out some cool specs, and order to your front door some very reasonably priced hot 'legally blind' commodities!

Go ahead, live it up! Act now and buy the UV Dark 4% with the slide-shield. Hurry up! The next time you're driving around you'll be the envy of all your blind friends in these babies. Oh wait a minute -- it says here:
Not recommended for driving.
100% UV Protection.
100% Blue Light Protection


Damnit. Well at least you can still look cool around the yard. Well browse away my blind brethren and keep this in mind while you're deciding which style looks like it fits you best-- you only live once.








So go ahead, spend big $! You don't want to be the only one of your blind friends that got the 'lower end model.' I mean, it's only $65! Wowzers!

NOIR Technologies claims that if you see their for-blind products for a lower price somewhere else they'll match you and give an extra 10% off.

Eye guarantee!

Lava Ocean

So I'm falling asleep on the ride home in the car and listening to my new All That Remains discography. You know, standard metal MO -- pretty repetitive song structure w/ heavy everything followed by badass breakdowns and some hot double bass fun and blazing-nonsense twin guitar solo's.

Well I'm listening to what should otherwise be bruising my eardrums with brutality and I'm falling asleep. No big deal, I figure it's like when an alcoholic drinks half a bottle of Jack and gets bored hanging out and drives home. Well as you're falling asleep there's this I'd say 1-2 minute window where anything you listen to gets really god damned big and epic. Any more time than that and you're... fully asleep. And then you're only getting vague, fuzzy half-nightmares about whatever the lead singer is growling on about. In that 2 minute span it's like you're on nature's drugs.

It just so happened I timed this one perfect. I was (nature's) high as shit.

All That Remains - Regret Not
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zv2R37gfcxg

So I shuffle my All That Remains playlist and I'm starting to drift off looking out the car window and acoustic guitar picks into my brain and I'm like "All That Remains own acoustic guitars?" I figure it's one of those 2 minute acoustic segue ways between songs. So I'm drifting off, half in some magical land where trees are telling olden tales and my eyes are closed and I'm about to go off and the guitar is closing in around me like the branches of all these trees so big and then-- Metal kicks me in the fucking mouth.

But that's it-- it didn't really wake me all the way. Just brought me to one of those "I hear the alarm clock but I'm refusing to actually 'wake up' and turn it off" deals.

Awesome.
Epic.
Old In Flames-esque.

I don't even know what I was fighting in that half-sleep. But I sure was fighting something. And I was winning. I was flying along at 35 MPH over Morris Rd on some mighty steed vanquishing traffic, and then I was cutting through red lights at 45 MPH, slicing in and around cars at 65, spiraling through vortex of blurry car tail lights and headlights at 100, diving headlong over a cliff, the wind rushing through my face, hurtling into an ocean filled with lava, bracing for impact--
nothing.

And it slides right back into the woods, and I'm walking along real slow and the trees are deep on either side closing in until everything goes black. And somewhere in here I fell back asleep. So I'm not sure how fast my mom was driving home to tell you the truth but I know for a fact there aren't any seas of lava near my house--just some Molten Funk (Lol jkjkj BFFaeae!!.) So yea, somewhere before that.

And yea, I woke up and listened to it 3 more times and it was (luckily) still awesome. And I've listened to it two more times since. Definitely a good one. Definitely fell asleep at the right time.

And when I looked it up on youtube it even had the video synched up with a scene from the movie 300. How can you go wrong with that?

You can't.
Enjoy.



















PS - Check out All That Remains - We Stand for a hot 'regular' one of their songs. And I'm downloading the new Tortoise album right now. Oh boy.

Bleu Cheese Good

It is the gift from the gods.
It is the choice meat of yours truly.
It is mouth-watering deliciousness.
And only two animals have to die for it.



The Buffalo Chicken Cheesesteak.














Chicken--that oh so man-made beast of the rarest and least easily duplicated taste
Buffalo--the right breed of buffalo yields the tastiest spice that one can add to any meal.
Roll-- Amarosso does it right baby.
Cheese--what doesn't this ecoutremont taste like gold on? Well, gold for one. But not many foods.



If you combine them at the right temperature, and add the seasonings at the exact right moment, all while killing the chicken in the right way (under the full moon), and blending them semi-circular in motion you have the end result of lucious, healthy unmistakable man-made joy.

And to boot a few healthy fun facts about Buff Chix Chs:
-fat-free
-cholestoral-free
-low-sodium
-high in vitamins
-enhances hand-eye
-zero calories
-purifies your liver

Boom.

That's what's up. You add just a little bleu cheese (I get mine on the side so those fascists don't drench mine) and you're talking serious awesome. There are such things as mediocre Buffalo Chicken Cheesesteaks but never 'bad' ones.

Live it up America. The land of the free. The land of the brave. The land of the Buffalo Chicken Cheese.

KaPow.

X to the A through the G

How much time do we spend 'working'?

No, not that conversation (about 20 minutes a day) -- the other one. The opposite one. Like 100 hours a week.



Think about it.














You have to be there from X toY. You got to wake up at W. You have to spend time driving home till Z. You have to go to bed early -- at U-- just so you won't be tired. You totally didn't E-mail that packet your boss specifically asked you to E-mail yesterday and you spend all of R worrying about how fired you are when you go in the next day. And you can't unwind from work until Q. Not to mention dealing with coworkers outside of work (that's J), working overtime (alot of V), and time spent complaining about work outside of work--or T. That's a load of B. S.

It's bullshit.

Meghan has it probably worst of all right now. She goes right from gay-day work to gay-Phillies work and doesn't get back until wayyy late. Props for earning that money babe to support my drinking habits. And I do understand that is a total stress inducer and non-fun-inizer. So I bear with you and accept your 'fists' of fury once in a while. (We need to start working out together, you punch like a girl)

It just ain't my cup of tea. In fact, instead of taking a second job I've decided to cut out my one job. Namely A & E. It's just getting in the way of my life. It's like, c'mon, I need to catch a beer at 9 am on a Tuesday and play video games but I'm...working?

Bullshit.

Or let's try this one on for size -- an all-night binge fest spills over into the next day and we want to drive to Tiajuana and buy hookers and cheap Mexican guns on a Thursday morning (1 pm)? Can't do it guys. I'll be at work.

Gay.

Yo dude, we were walking by Wendy's and a half pound of pot and an all-new never-before-scene season of Planet Earth HD just fell off the back of this truck and we're gonna spend 14 straight hours and journey through it....

Uh-oh, A & Fucking E.

I quit A & E. It's really cramping my social life. I need a life. I need to live. I need to breathe. I can't be shackled up in this nothing but work bullshit. I'm a man. I'm an American. I refuse to waste away. I will fight the powers to be. Slavery has been abolished by my ancestors and by Christ, I'm going to do something about this modern-day slavery.

I'm going to live.