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Stinky Palms, Peaceful Protest

I am writing this in response to the absolute hatred that is going on in our country today, regarding the presidential elections. With the Republican National Convention coming soon, everybody has their panties in an uproar about our current president. People absolutely spit venom at this guy. Now, I'm no G-Dub fan myself, but I can't really say I hate him. Nonetheless, there are many people out there who do. That's fine. But the way they go about showing it, is just WAY too filled with anger and hatred. LET IT GO. Let go of your anger. It will serve you no good. This is why I am starting a peaceful movement of "silent, but deadly" protest. Here's my idea... During elections, presidential candidates spend much of their time, mindlessly shaking the hands of complete and utter strangers. Thousands of them. Now, if you happen to be one of those people who do not support Bush, then don't take to the streets bothering police, don't hang up ridiculous banners, that's lame. Instead, I encourage everyone out there who has beef with the G-Unit (Bush, Cheney, Powell) to simply stick your hand right up into the inner depth of your little brown balloon knot (that's yer butthole, in case ya didn't know) and calmly and quietly show your disapproval of our current policy by stinkpalming the president. This way, nobody gets hurt or arrested, and you can breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that you did your part in The Great Silent But Deadly Protest of 2004. Now here's the best part... as you breathe your sigh of relief, the President will be breathing millions upon bazillions of your butt molecules, as they fly from your hand, to his, and then right up his nose. If enough people do this, he may not realize that his shit stinks, but he'll sure as hell know that ours does. Try it out, then come back here and post up your results.

It's a Doggy Poo World...

Folks, take it from me. Doggy Poo is one of the greatest and most uplifting foreign films that I have ever seen! It is a South Korean claymation film about a pile of poo that is dropped on the side of the road and befriends an older, wiser pile of poo that guides him on his way. This whole movie is about finding your importance in life, no matter who you are. What a lovely idea! Where the fuck was this movie when my life was going down the toilet a couple months ago? Whatever. As long as it's here now, and as far as I'm concerned, Doggy Poo is here to stay! When you get the chance, be sure to check out this inspiring piece of shit! Lumpy Malone is down with the Doggy Poo for life!

A Big Shout Out To My Friends

I definitely need to take some time to give a big shout out to a couple of my good friends that stood by me this summer and prevented me from going on a murderous rampage that would have kept the police pulling prostitutes out of the Chicago River for months. These people saw me utterly lose my mind and still (and I'm not sure why) were amazing friends. So the shout outs go as follows, in no paticular order.

Howard Shayne
aka Pooh Bear
aka King Solomon
Howie is a great friend who, even though I owed him $300, STILL let me live at his house, rent free, until I got my shit together. He's listened to me bitch and whine about all the dumbshit that went on this summer. All this time, he would not judge me at all, but just keep on rolling blunts and listening to me. A very good friend (not to mention, as King Solomon, he happens to be the first Jewish pimp) Howie is a world class blunt roller.

Bryan Shimkos
aka
Bryan Shimkos
Another great friend and former roommate. I have no clue at all why he is still my friend, but I am happy that he is. When things got completely out of control for me, he always offered to let me stay at his place. Unfortunately, pride, and lots of tequila and jaegermeister kept me from taking him up on his offer, but nonetheless, he is truly an honest and trustworthy friend. Everyone in our circle of friends thinks I am a complete madman, but Bryan kept on patting me on the head like a dog, and encouraging me when I would do good things. This has meant alot to me.

Andrew Myers
Andrew, I have known since we were in second grade. I used to pick on him horribly and masturbate on his face in front of everyone when he was asleep at summer camp. It's crazy to think that, not only do I hang out with him, but I owe him a great deal of gratitude for helping me get the job that I have now, and for being patient with me during those times that I would clench my fist and have conversations with myself and the devil.

Adam Lipitz
If I did manage to go off the deep end and decide to try out that murderous hooker rampage, I know that Adam Lipitz would have been down to try it out with me. He's a great guy, who, along with Howie, let me stay at his place when I had nowhere to go. Plus, he's really fun to play "pretend gay" with. It rocks. Eventually, we'll be all wasted and it won't be pretend anymore (tee-hee!)

Lamar Dupree
This guy is great. All he wants to do is chill the fuck out, and smoke weed, and have intense conversations about weed. When I suffered through my summer long nervous breakdown, Lamar would get me stoned and tell me that I'm just going through life and that weed is great and blah, blah, blah... Lamar is awesome. If I ever have a child with a black woman (which is very possible) I will surely name that child, Lamar. Even if it's a girl. Fuck it. Lamar is a good name for anybody. He's crazy. I'm telling you. He loves weed so much, that someday he'll go militant and start up a branch of the Green Panthers. That fool will defend his crop with his life.

There you have it. These are the friends who really came to my rescue this summer, and by keeping me somewhat sane, have saved the lives of numerous Chicago prostitutes. But more important than saving the lives of all those filthy HIV warehouses, they probably saved my life too.

So to my good friends...

...this blog's for you!!!!!!





(damn, that was gay)

Lumpy Malone vs The Lemont Police Department

The day started off as any other Monday morning would. I woke up, masturbated myself out of bed, and got ready for work. I passed the normal crackhead begger on my way to the train. As usual, he didn't want to lend me fifty cents. Fuck him. After I got off the train, I made my way to my friend's house and smoked a couple bowls before the drive to work. Pretty nothing day so far. The drive from downtown Chicago to Lemont, where we work, usually takes about 45 minutes. We had gotten off the expressway and stopped at a gas station to grab some food, before making our way to the office. At this point, we are about less than a mile down the road from work. Suddenly, there is a cop racing down the road with his lights flashing and sirens blaring. Our first thought is to pull over and let him race down the road... until we realize he is actually pulling US over. Now, this didn't freak me out at all, because of my vast treasure trove of experience dealing with police. I really wasn't worried at all. Then I looked behind me. To my surprise, I see one of Lemont's finest with his gun drawn and pointed right at us. Before this even has time to register in the two brain cells I have left, about seven or eight other cop cars pull up and surround us completely. These fucking bastards all fly out of their cars, guns out, all screaming at once for us to put our hands on the dashboard. I do this. Guns tend to make you pay WAY more attention to people barking orders at you. Then, these assholes focus on me. OF COURSE. They yell, "Passenger, put both hands outside the window" Again, guns get your attention quickly, so I do as I'm told, which I fucking HATE doing. They scream at me to open the door from the outside. I do it. They tell me to exit the vehicle with my hands on my head. I do this. I am then ordered to turn around with my back facing them and walk backwards towards their voices. This all happened so quickly that I still had the empty wrapper from the danish I got at the gas station in my hand. Of course, to a bunch of dick chewing, tough guy moustached, suburb, shitheads, this a potentially dangerous weapon. They start screaming something that I couldn't quite understand, but it was definately about the wrapper. So, not knowing what the fuck is going on... I attempt to put it in my pocket. BIG MISTAKE. This brings about a barrage of screams such as, "Ted, he's reaching for something!!" "Don't go for it, kid!!!" and other classic pig cliches. I dropped the wrapper. They then order me to lay on the ground on my belly, with my hands over my head. As soon as I do this, I am pummeled by three of them as they lift my fat carcass off the ground and literally throw me into the backseat of a cop car. Meanwhile, they are getting my friend out of the driver's side. As I am waiting, fully handcuffed in the back of the car, my mind is racing to think of what the hell I did wrong. I was going through all the nights over the summer that I got crocked out of my mind and blacked out (which is useless, because I blacked out and don't remember shit. I'm a dummy) I keep thinking... "Oh my God, did I get so drunk one night that I finally murdered some stupid cunt with a brick to the head?" Finally, after much deliberation, I had concluded that I really was innocent. I was pretty confident that I hadn't comitted murder over the summer, even though it was a possibility. Finally after answering a bunch of lame questions, they finally come up with the brilliant idea of checking the driver's license and registration! WOW. What a concept. Once this is done and these dumbfucks realize that we had done nothing wrong, they instantly uncuff us and explain that the car showed up as a stolen vehicle, but that it was all just a paperwork mistake. A PAPERWORK MISTAKE!!! Oh my God. I had about ten guns pointed at me over a paperwork mistake. Sheeesh. And it's not like I haven't had a gun to my face before, I have... it's just I'm used to my guns coming at me one at a time, and not by a posse of trigger happy, pig fuckers. I can only imagine the cream dream that cop must have had when he first thought this was a stolen vehicle. I bet that was the only day out of the year when all the gooey white stains on his uniform actually weren't from a krispy kreme glazed donut rampage. Anyway. So by now, the whole police department is kissing our fucking ass. Making sure we are alright and whatever... I'm not fucking alright. I just had ten guns pointed at me. Screw that. I was shaking with anger. My friend was pretty calm. Not me. They all tried to calm me down, which actually pissed me off more. I just wanted to be let free and go to work. One pig actually compared it to an episode of Cops. I replied that it felt more like an episode of Reno 911 and proceeded to inform him that he is a shithead and his daughter is probably ditching school and sniffing coke off some kid's cock even as we speak. He didn't like this at all, but what can he do? I'm innocent. Soooo... after a shitload of paperwork (Ironic that it was fucked up paperwork that began this whole ordeal and it ended with paperwork?) They finally let us go. Crap like this only happens to me, as my friend was quick to point out. Fuck the police. I'm not trying to sound like NWA or anything like that, but really... fuck them. It's lame crap like this that really makes me hate our country and actually cheer for the terrorists. I hope some Ali Hassan mother fucker hijacks an airplane and jihads himself all over the Lemont Police Department. Oh well. I guess in the end, anger will get me nowhere. All I can do is learn from the experience. The lesson learned is that next time the police pull me over, I will actually give them a good reason to pull their guns out on me. Goddamn, I swear I hate people.

A Summer Of Mistakes And The Lessons Learned

This summer has completely pushed me to my limits and beyond. I can say in all honesty, that this summer has been a horrible blotch on my life. However, fall is looking to be much better. I have recently gotten an awesome promotion at work, my house is not a fucked up haven of cockroaches, cocaine, and vomit. I have survived the anti-semitic landlady and the beat down her thug nephews gave me. I survived the homelessness and lonely nights spent sleeping on trains. My drinking and snorting has calmed down drastically. I still drink, but only one or two beers when I go out. The only stuff in my nose right now are boogers and fingers. I have been staying away from the vile pit of doom known as Slow Down Life's Too Short. The source of all horrible stories and blackout nightmares. I've been writing for about three hours a day, and it has paid off significantly at the open mic comedy nights. This summer has been an absolute disaster. It started off with bad things happening to me that were out of control, and I managed to only make them worse through horrible decisions that I made. I have learned to trust my friends when things get rough. I have learned to handle problems without going on weeklong booze binges. I feel very bad and ashamed at how I treated some people this summer, and even though, they may never come to forgive me, I have moved on and learned important lessons from my mistakes. I am very much looking forward to ending the summer and beginning the fall.

Mushrooms and Comedy

This has been a fun week for me. My good friend Lamar, happened to help me get ahold of about an ounce and a half of REALLY great mushrooms. Just as I got ahold of this treasure, lo and behold, I have a week off of work. I spent this whole week eating mushrooms from the second I would wake up until the second I would... eat more mushrooms. The days following this delightful mushroom binge were fun and awesome. The end of the binge was even greater because I managed to get up on stage and do a couple of minutes of stand up comedy while tripping my balls off. I was scared shitless before, but once I was called up, things went pretty smoothly. I remembered all of my material, and managed to pull off a decent show. This was definately a drug binge, but not a bad one at all, in fact, quite delightfull, if I do say so meself.