raising glasses to these faintly falling ashes

It's been a short year. It's been quiet, uneventful and pretty much similar to every other year since I was shot out of a womb approximately 20-some years ago. But that doesn't change the complacency i've felt since then. I don't really care what happens throughout the course of my life, because sometimes it's just enough to be alive. There's billions who can't say that right now. Because they're dead. And while they may have been better men than me, I've got one up on them right now. I can watch snow fall, multicolored lights shine on trees and credit card bills pile up endlessly. What do they get? They get to rot. For eternity. What up, success?

And that's how I see it. I'm just a normal, random guy chillin in the 'burbs of the 'burbs. I play video games and drink beer and smoke cigarettes. It happens. But everyone always said do what you love. It's their fault I play video games, brink beer and smoke cigarettes. I'm a simple man with simple pleasures. Fuckin' sue me.

And I've got another few months to do that. Then I get to move to the city, learn shit about movies, and play video games, drink beer and smoke cigarettes. And creep on insecure artsy-types. I think I've got my life planned out right there in a nutshell.

Life is good.

dairy products

I'm gonna be in Wisconsin for a few days. Vacation 2 of 3 for the summer. I can't say I'm not happy about it.

Beer. Steak. Tattoos.

See ya soon.

Blogging holds absolutely no interest in my life right now. I don't know how people do this for a living. I mean, true, I'd probably have a lot easier time if I was being paid for this nonsense. But I'm not.

In other news:

So I got back from Florida last week. I was there like 5 days, right? I went with my family and some friends of the family. And I honestly cannot believe that it happened at all. I can't remember quite a bit. But here's what I do remember.

Firstly, the hotel we stayed at was on da gulf a mexico, right? It had like fucking epic greek statues and a life-size chess set that I kicked ass at. There was an ice cream parlor AND PIZZA HUT in our hotel. It was very convenient because it was better than regular room service. And one of the skanks working there gave me free shit. I slept on the worst pull-out couch bed in the history of man. The huge metal bar running down the middle bruised my tailbone somehow, and it hurt to sit upright. But that's pretty irrelevent, because I was not about to let some nonsense injury put me on the fun DL.

So the first night we got there was already hilarious. We went to this place called Crabby Bill's. And apparently everyone there is a douchebag. My entire family was wasted from their first day at the Swigwam. Is that not the coolest name for a seaside bar? Anyway, i ate some pretty awful crab cakes and talked shit to the funny looking tourists and college dropouts in TapouT shirts while insisting that my mom buy me pina coladas. She did. It was awesome. Then I slept like a baby. With a fork in its ass. Gagged and bound. Held upside down by its toes. I can't sleep outside my own house. I just cant. So needless to say, sleep was scarce on this magical seaside adventure.

The next day I sat on the beach drinking Landsharks (shitty Jimmy Buffet beer that's a mix of corona and bud light, but worse) and getting my tan on. I got really tan by the end of the trip. Free of the fabled farmer's tan too. Either way. I got bored after my extended family thought it was a grand idea to sit on wooden chairs for 5 hours, so I walked around for a couple hours and a few miles. I got a sweet straw hat. Some beer coozies. (I started collecting beer coozies for some reason. I have like 20 now. I don't even use them because I don't like my beer freezing cold. Just another of life's paradoxes I imagine. But that is another tale for another time.) So anyway, I was of course rocking a muscle shirt to show off my newly-sculpted, newly-tanned guns, and the register girl went through the common human interactions that go with buying stupid shit in a stupid store. When I was getting out my money, she saw my tattoo and said "that's such a cool tat. I see so many stupid tattoos working in a beach resort town." She asked me what it meant and I explained it and she must have been completely awe-struck by my deep thoughts and beautiful ink, because she was smiling like jesus just sucked her dick. It was fun. I sat and talked to her for a while. Her dad was in real estate down there (every real estate building [there was seriousy dozens] had at least 2 mercedes and a jaguar parked in the front, btw) but she's from some Chicago suburb that i can't remember because I was kinda drunk and only half-interested in what she had to say. But she was cute. Like, vacation-in-florida-babe cute. In retrospect, I don't even remember her name. God damn. Bad person of the year I guess. I ended up seeing her on the beach the next day too. We went to the swigwam and they didn't card me because they knew her. Totally cool. I learned to do waterfall shots. What's a waterfall shot, you say?

Ppsh. Take two shots, hold them in one hand, and let the upper shot pour into the bottom shot while you're drinking both simultaneously. I did a double waterfall, and everyone was super impressed. And that's when I met Sally. Sally was like 46. Her tits, on the other hand, were still toddlers. She bought me a lot of drinks. Total cougar. She moved down there with her old as dirt husband, and figured if you're going to live on the beach you need to get a tit job. So she did. I don't understand why girls get tit jobs. Totally not the same. No one is impressed by your spending half a dozen grand on boobs. Either way. It was hilarious. I got a rum runner, a pina colada with strawberry liquor or something and a handful of beers and margeritas. This was at 11 Am. I was trashed by 3, and I felt like a real man for the first time in my life. Sally and unknown beach girl were good company, and took my $100 bar tab down significantly. I'll never see or know you again, but I love you anyway.

After saying farewell to girl, I went back to my room and watched American Gladiator episodes from 1990. We went to the dog track in Tampa. It was so rad. I bet on 10 races and won $100. I won really big at the start, and it was all downhill from there. I bought some big cigars and put all my betting slips in my straw hat. I felt like Charles Bukowski. Or more like Matt Dillon in that movie about Bukowski. Factotum maybe? Yeah. Afterwards we played beer pong. So weird. I've never played beer pong with my family before.

Anyway. I'm bored with this. And I hurt my back and i've been sitting too long to be comfortable.

Until next time.

Fuck it

It's summer. I don't give a shit about politics or socieconomic issues.

Go out there. Get paid. Get laid. Get 50 beers in. Make bad decisions.

You gotta do what you gotta do.

For God and country!

I've got a problem here. What's new, man? Like that's any different than any other moment in life, right? But whatever. I'm sick of making myself out to be a martyr for liberal causes when I myself disagree with a lot of liberal ideals. But I'd have to say, conservatives and Republicans make Democrats and liberals all look like Einstein. The sad part about that? The majority of America has been Republican since before the world wars. That means the majority of America is stupid. You know how that makes me feel?

Like shit. Complete and utter shit.

People who say Obama is a bad president because he's spread too thin and talks too much. How Obama is still not a proper noun according to spell check. People who believe that abortion is actually murder. And that "murder" is used for stem cell research.

I watch FOX News at the gym. I get to listen to Sean Hannity and Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh. I have the privilege to feel like a complete moron for two hours every day. They are rich from slinging propaganda aimed at the numbskulls that inhabit this great nation. It's scary. There's people who actually think Obama is a muslim, and the Anti-Christ. Seriously. What the fuck? But anyway, these people. These ignorant fucks. Exploitation of the little-brained America. People like the aforementioned are the reason the rest of the world despises us. And that irritates me. America was revered. Loved around the world. And now it's reduced to millions of neanderthals with clubs who can only drink Busch Light and have kids they cannot support. And it's all thanks to these tiny-dick, ass-backwards neocons.

Fuck you Fox News. You are turning this country into a lake too many kids pissed in. And the drainage system runs straight into the gene pool. If you're stupid, your kids are going to be stupid. I'd like to think it is almost exactly like the beginning of the movie Idiocracy. The ones who get knocked up at 17 are the ones whose kids will get knocked up at 17 (sup Sarah Palin?) and then go on to become Vice President, or even better, President (aka Fuhrer of the Free World).

I can't wait to run for mayor. It'll be a blast. I can't wait to campaign to old people who don't trust handsome young men in shabby clothes. I can't wait to say I'm going to mandate abortions to all teenage girls who get knocked up. I can't wait to drink beer in Springfield or something.

Either way, fuck it. America is a shithole now. It's like one big Wal-mart. Low payout for a lot of work.

My metaphors are weak tonight, so I'm gonna leave it there.

Fuck the system!

Foot-in-mouth disease

That's a play on words. Because it's actually foot-and-mouth disease. And it kills cows and buffalo and shit. But more of what I'm getting at is how full of shit everyone is. Not necessarily in a bad way. Human beings, as a species, are made to bullshit and lie and cheat and steal. Anyone who says they don't partake in said activities is probably more full of shit than the rest of us mother fuckers. Which is the reason I don't understand everyone's so up in arms about everything happening in the economy right now. Sure, it only took about a dozen people to completely tear this nation down to what it always was in the first place. But Anyone who had that much power would do the same thing. As the Boss would say: "Poor man wanna be rich, rich man wanna be king and a king's not satisfied til he rules everything". I think America isn't as pissed as everyone tries to make it sound. These corporations DESTROYED America, single-handedly. Frankly, I'm actually jealous. That's an achievement. We lived through a Revolutionary War, Civil War, and two World Wars, and came out stronger each time. Then, a few guys in expensive suits and bad haircuts decide they want more money, and BAM!, America looks like Escape from New York. Teachers and firefighters lose their security pensions, and these assholes make millions more than anyone would need in a single year. We lose all our money, they get private jets, yachts and mansions. Welcome to capitalism folks. You want it, you got it.

As I said, I would have loved to be one of those guys. I would have been ecstatic to destroy America's infrastructure. I could be a mega-millionaire without ever buying lotto tickets again. And A.) an entire nation would be shaking on its knees while B.) wanting me dead. No matter how you spin it, that is win-win.

America had it coming. Every other nation in the world could see it. With our gays and abortions and letting women outside without their entire bodies covered in rags, it was only a matter of time before god struck us down for our hedonism and equal rights. Hah. God. Don't get me started.

Either way, America, the time is now to get into corporate business. Soon, these guys will all be in jail, and their positions will need filling! So hopefully in 30 years, I can be part of the next generation to destroy American idealism and get rich doing so.

Which brings me to my next point. Sometimes I say things I shouldn't. But there's no book of unacceptable idioms, at least that I've seen. There's no law that says some jokes are beyond the realm of decency. Whether it's about dead people or boners or Jews, it's my right to say whatever I want to whoever I want. So, dearest America, suck a dick.

Things I hate

Today, I'm compiling a list of things I hate. It won't be as long as some might think. Check it out.

I hate...

-Pictures with way too much contrast, especially if ithey're of skanks making dumb faces
-Roller Hockey's aftereffects on your body
-Fat girls who wear sweatpants in public (ok, any girl or guy that wears sweatpants)
-Sweatpants
-Credit card statements
-Sluts
-Big blue dicks
-When bands skip Chicago on a tour (what kind of band doesn't want to play chicago?)
-The spins
-Not having money for tattoos
-Guys named Duane. (or dwayne, or D'wayne, or even just Wayne)
-College
-Next-Morning beer breath
-Christian rock, or rap, or metal
-Blisters
-School pictures
-Dane Cook
-Jim Beam
-The Dallas Cowboys
-Shirts from Spencers
-People who own shirts from Spencers
-Last cigarettes
-My dogs

I'm sure everyone hates these things. I'm glad now I can feel like I relate to you, internet friends.

Maybe someday I'll make a "things I like list". Like, for my next post, perhaps. Until then, I smell like shit, and must say farewell.

Dear Non-smokers of America,

Listen. I smoke. I don't care if you do or don't. I know lots of people who do regularly, and just as many who would never touch one. But I have a problem with some of you self-righteous non-smoking assholes. I am an American. I was born here. My mother and father were born here. I have certain unalienable rights which the founding fathers instilled in me over 200 years before I was even alive. I understand smoking is not a right guaranteed by the Constitution, but I do have the right to freedom, liberty and personal happiness. And I feel this is being intruded upon by cock-smoking pieces of shit who can't stand walking by people smoking a 1/16th of a mile from a door.

Don't tread on me, mother fuckers.

I am no less of a person than you because one of my habits happens to kill people. People die. If they die of lung cancer, then it's a sad story. But no more sad than being killed in a car crash, heart failure or murdered brutally. When you tell me to walk away from the door, I nod and peacefully go about my way. Then you ask me to walk 15 feet from an entrance. I may snarl or object, but once again, I go on my way. Suddenly, us smokers are pushed back hundreds of feet from any other people. We obliged, whether or not we felt it necessary. But when I follow all your bullshit stipulations just so I can calm down between feminist rants, teachers preaching the pros of LSD and other shit I disagree with or just don't care about in class, you still insist that isn't good enough. How long will it be before smoking is banned outdoors completely? Before we as a nation are completely controlled by government "looking out for us" as if they know what's best for everyone?

Of course, this isn't the first time a government has taken a large step to stomp out smoking. In the 1930's and 40's, a brilliant man attempted to ban smoking from his nation. That man was named Adolf Hitler. Congrats non-smokers, you're in good company. Some piss poor decision makers who smoked? Roosevelt, Churchill and Stalin. Wow. 1. Hitler believed smoking would have killed out his perfect race known as the Third Reich. If only we could have been so lucky. Also, tobacco was a devilish gift from the Red Man (American Indians) as revenge for giving them whiskey. God damn.

Furthermore, here's a comparison of the anti-smoking campaigns by Nazi Germany, and the current campaigns by America.
-- Hitler attempted to price out smoking for Germans, levying huge taxes on cigarettes.
- The Nazis banned tobacco advertising and financed huge public relations campaigns to propagandize people into giving up smoking.
For more, go here.

This all came about after a year of dealing with this. Being herded like sheep into bus shelters because the covered canopies are reserved for smoke-free citizens (who aren't even outside unless going to or from class). I've been warned with $250 tickets, referrals from the Dean of the college and more. I've been told by people who I've never met I'm disgusting and a bad person. I've been yelled at by over-zealous cunts who couldn't even walk the distance we have to just to smoke without stopping for a breather.

But in all honesty, why is this such a big deal? It smells? It will kill you? I'm sorry to say that walking through a cloud of smoke outside for half a second will not give you cancer, no matter how many times in your life you do it. According to studies, 50% of people who don't smoke don't even mind second-hand smoke. Some people actually enjoy it (why I can't say). Am I the only one who feels almost oppressed by this? I feel shunned, out-casted and down-trodden. I refuse to be governed by this overly liberal bullshit. I want to be the first man to go to jail for disobeying smoking laws. I'll gladly martyr myself for the 76,000,000 smokers in America. If women can have abortions, then I can fucking smoke where ever I please. The government can force its smoking bans on businesses who disagree with it, with hundreds of patrons who disagree with it. Am I the only one who finds this whole idea fucked?

But the next time you see someone smoking, and it irritates you, suck a dick. I don't give a fuck what you think or feel about what over 20 percent of the population does for relaxation and leisure. This is America, you mother fucker. Land of the free. Home of the smokers who have to walk a thousand feet at Joliet Junior College to smoke.

Get real, America. Propaganda shouldn't so easily convince you of what you're now using to wreak havoc upon a large minority in the population. I'm not Rod Blagojevich, so I won't compare my plight to that of Gandhi or blacks around the turn of the century and before, but it feels like this is some what like what they went through. Their literal hangings being traded for our figurative crucifixion.

a lack of anything interesting to say

Tonight I decided I'm going to start going to work out every night for 2 hours. So far, I've made it one day, and it's miserable. But, my new years resolution was to better myself in any and every way, so this is the start. I'm going to stick with it until at least summer, and if it's working well, I'll, of course, continue on for the rest of my natural life.

I realized now that that valentine's day post made me seem like a bitter old man. Well shit. I guess it was kinda tongue in cheek. I mean, i said Valentine's day was a tool for mass brainwashing. Who could take that shit seriously? Not me. I'm all for love if it makes you feel more complete, but I completely disagree with the idea everyone needs love to survive. And that's enough of that. In other news...

I've been trying to be more open lately. I've been told too often I'm impossible to figure out. I just want to be a consistent, boring person for once. I think life would be easier if I let myself be more normal. On the other hand, I don't really care. As a few hundred thousand wise men once said: "You only live once".

I only have 1 year and 2 months till I can legally frequent local bars. I'm so pumped. I want to be the biggest fucking bar fly ever. I want to go straight from my shitty job (or classes, depending on what my life is like in that time frame) and drink for 6 hours straight, and pick up the dirtiest skanks on the face of the planet. I wanna be like a less-ugly Bukowski with more sass. And without the news papers and novels. What it boils down to: I want to be a major drunk. Deal with it.

Valentines

Sup blogworld? I'm pretty hung over right now. I have a fake mustache on my face and on my pillow. I have "10 cans 4 AM Friends" proudly scribed on my arm.

It was a good night.

But either way, I didn't even know today was Valentine's Day. Valentine's Day always gets a little depressing. Especially from an anti-capitalist point of view. Free enterprise has created a holiday where 50% of the world has to deal with the fact they are alone on a day when they're supposed to share all their love with another similarly-opinionated, equally uninteresting person. But life's funny. I'm always happier alone. I have more money. I have more time. And I have no one to answer to but myself. (aside: I have no money right now anyway)

I don't see why kids these days feel the need to drag themselves down with these sad, borderline-sickening relationships when they're young, strong and wide-eyed. It seems like for the most part, the shit fails miserably or ends in pregnancy. Really, what is the point?

This Valentines is made even more upsetting this year because so many people I grew up with are getting married, thinking about getting married or are already married. It's cute, ya know? It's exciting to stroll over flower pedals in a big white dress. Plus your parents got married right out of high school! So why shouldn't you? But as a free spirited young man, I have to run against the wind. Marriage is (get ready for this) another institution for government to keep its populous in control. It ensures people have babies. It ensures people have to get better jobs to support their families, meaning more goes to the man in the curtain. Not to mention it keeps people from getting venereal diseases. For about two years. While they're still faithful.

Do I believe all that? Hah. Maybe. But it makes sense. Maybe I'm just bitter and that's my justification. Who knows.

Really. I haven't had a valentine in about two years. And that's completely alright when you have friends who are just as useless as you. I do miss being able to buy flowers and go to a nice restaurant (Olive Garden is nice when you work a part-time job and go to school!)

But after my nice little diatribe, I've decided I'll just end it with some infinite wisdom. No body needs anyone else for any reason. Don't simply conform to American standards and go steady with someone only because you're afraid of being alone or not being able to find someone. There's 7 billion people in the world. One million in Chicago.If you can't find one, it's because you're trying to hard.

Take care. And Happy Valentine's day.

Alex "I Love you baby but I don't have time" Simotes

uh huh

A lot has happened lately. I can't say much of it was good in any way. My brand new, beautiful fucking guitar got stolen from the last place I would've imagined. A guitar I searched for for years, finally found, and now, apparently, lost it. It's a conflicted feeling, knowing that someone is blatantly lying to your face while probably laughing at you behind your back. Fuck that. Have some decency you piece of shit.

I also came down with strep throat and a 104 fever for a few days. Talk about insult to injury. I missed two exams at school, had a very good chance I could've been permanently damaged, and still can't smoke or eat right. Fuck my life.

I don't see a lot of people anymore. I guess sometimes I take a backseat to everything else. Which is cool. It's just a rough patch in my overly long life. Shit happens.

My mood, bank account, health and guitar owning is piss poor at the moment. The only slight consolation right now is the fact that it's almost 60 degrees out in February.

This post is terrible, but I haven't been able to really do anything well for the past few weeks. Deal with it.

Drug dealing in parking lots

This weekend, I've felt more alive than I have in months. I can't say why. These things would be a lot easier to understand if I knew exactly what I was feeling, and how to describe it.

Essentially, I had way too much to drink, shit-talked a lot of dumb broads, and got into a lot of fights. ISU is magical in that sense. Knowing I'm NEVER going to see any of those people again gives me an excuse to do a lot of stuff I wouldn't normally do. Like pissing over a balcony hoping to get it on people. And stealing alcohol for everyone. And losing to fat, ugly girls at beer pong. But you can't win em all, I guess.

But there's a trend here. I get drunk a lot. And I never regret it. It's always one of the best times of my life. Which brings me to my next point. Life is what you make of it. People seem to like to whine and bitch about everything like it matters. It doesn't. The only things that matter in this life are your friends, your family and your music. You can interchange that last part with whatever might be important to you. but I digress...

Whether the beer fuels the party or not, the constant is that you can only live as well as you allow yourself. This bullshit introspection is ill founded on some pretenses, but what I'm saying is don't let anything get in the way of living your life to the fullest extent.

I'm a few steps away from making one of the biggest decisions of my life. And I'm scared shitless. I'm a 19 year old kid, and I have to decide now what to do for the rest of my life. It seems ridiculous. Some people are born knowing what they want to do. I was definitely not. I've always wanted to make a living playing punk rock music. But let's face it. I can't sing. I can't play guitar. And I'm not good looking enough for that shit. But I will not work a 9 to 5. I'll find something that I love, and follow that if it kills me. I won't let anything get in the way of living a life I can be proud of. If and when I have kids and grandkids, I want them to remember me for being a good man. A man they can tell stories about to their friends, wives, kids, or whatever, and not say "that guy was a dick. I can't believe I sprang from those loins." I want them to say "fuck yeah. there's a part of him in me."

I've always had a fighter's spirit. Since I was a kid, I was stubborn as shit. Being told I couldn't do something was nothing but a challenge. No one was or is going to tell me what I can or can't do. I'm not going down into adulthood without a glorious battle. A personal 30 Years War. A destruction of all expectations and hold backs.

I hope I can read this 15 years from now, when I'm settled on my little perch of maturity. This pretty time capsule will serve as either a "I told you so" or a "what went wrong?". With my 20th birthday quickly approaching, I'm closer and closer to the end of personal freedom. At least as far as society's reach can tell. I have a feeling I'll never really grow up properly. I'll always laugh a little too loud and talk a little too much. I'll never know when's the wrong time to say the wrong thing. It's hard to say now, but why would I want to change? Why would anyone want to escape this feeling?

All in all, do yourselves all a favor and live a life filled to the brim with love, laughter, happiness and whatever else you've ever wanted. At least then if I fail, someone will still be happy where they're at.

Til next time.

Old Style

There's nights when you don't really know where you're going. You hop around from place to place, scene to scene, and you don't really feel like you fit in anywhere. You're comfortable and you're ok with being there, but something along the lines just feels off. Then you wake up in the morning, forget what you even did, and life goes on.

It all passes pretty quick. There are moments I wish would last a lifetime. Party's in your mom's basement, singing along to Gaslight and the Lawrence Arms after downing half a case of old style by yourself playing some shitty game thought up by guys who wear turtle neck sweaters and popped collars. Essentially, that would lead to a dead-end future. But, in rebuttal, who needs a future when you have friends like that?

School is a joke. Pretty soon here, I'll be done with community college, and move on to "most excellent, radical" party universities. Being older and wiser, I probably won't make any friends, won't get laid and won't even care about how many beers I can drink in an hour. I just want my education and job, and to get a move on. I can't wait for real life to start. When 2 days a week, I can go on benders at local bars or in basements or in parking lots. And get paid money to do something I enjoy. Life would be sweet.

We'll see.

new years

This is apparently the time.

This thing is so pointless. I'm just indulging myself in some strange thought that somebody out there reads this and gives a shit. Which is obviously not the case. Why would anyone care about anyone else's opinions these days? It's a sea of people whom have no idea what they're talking about. I'm not gonna act like I'm different than any other wave.

I guess it is frustrating for me sometimes. I have to say "I told you so" so many times every week that it becomes disheartening. Yet it never appears to anyone that maybe I might be right about anything before it happens. I don't know where I got this tag around my neck that says I'm some kind of idiot, but I don't believe I ever earned it.

I decided this summer, if I don't end up going on tour, I want to do something awesome. Like riding freight trains across the USA. With a guitar, video camera and some clothes. I want some sort of personal discovery. I want an epiphany. I don't really don't want anything at all, to be honest. I just want to get the fuck out of here for a long while.

Art degrees. What a joke.

This seems like the age where people grow up past the point of friends. Have fun while you can, in a year no one will care about you.