blues almighty

i have got the blues. i don't know why, and i have no interest whatsoever in finding out why.

it's much more comforting that way. i think. to be semi-depressed and not knowing how you got yourself in this predicament. all i know is: (1) my thoughts are so scattered right now that it looked like i blew my fucking brains out with a glock and (2) i'm in the mood for questions. yep. questions. roll with me for a while:

:: why the hell did you have to permit the existence of vanilla ice and paris hilton? if everyone has a purpose in this world, what's their excuse?

:: are my fingers too fat for the guitar? honestly.

:: speaking of fat, why can't fat be the new thin? can it be the new thin? then gluttony wouldn't be a sin and we can all go pig out at don henrico's.

:: why the fuck should there be a nucleus nacho in every serving of nachos?

:: why do people find drew carey and jay leno funny? i think patrick star can kick those bitches' asses even with his mouth taped to a lawn mower.

:: is it true that the answer to 99 of every 100 questions is money?

:: why didn't you do a better job on martha stuart? is she in any way related to stuart little?

:: why is globalization such a bitch?

:: why did you let john lennon die? he could've been a better governor for california.

:: and where the hell is chuckie dreyfus? seriously. where is he?

now it's your turn. if you could ask god only one question, and guarantee that it would be answered, what would you ask?

i'm out.