cow_hat

I abandoned you again. I said I was back, for good this time, but I have this unhealthy repulsion towards sharing. I'm sorry, Livejournal, let's be friends again. Forgive me?

I'm terrified of people. There are so few people who I really feel I can be myself around... it takes so long to get to that point. I'm afraid that so few people know the real me, how do I know that new people will accept him? Do I just throw it out there? I feel like I have to explain myself first. Oh, don't worry, that's just my weird sense of humour. I'm not actually some deranged pervert. The biggest problem with this is that, while I try to be someone else, I have no idea who else to be, so I end up being nobody. I busy myself with my phone so that nobody notices I'm just sitting there imagining what they're thinking of me. Assuming that they ARE thinking about me.

"You'd care a lot less about what people thought of you, if you realized how rarely they did."

Maybe I am just a pervert. That would be a lot easier. An asshole, and a pervert. Life seems easier when you don't give a shit about anybody but yourself. And your penis.

Except that I don't have that in me. That instinct never developed, like so many others. I could perhaps blame my father, but I know he did the best he could with what he had. Can you blame people for something that's not their fault? Therapists will tell you that you can, but something seems so wrong about it. Man up, boy, take the blame yourself!

And yet, somehow, I'm so incredibly self absorbed. I am so narcissistic that I have trouble believing that other people are going through the same things I am. I just assume that everybody's got it all figured out, and I'm the only one who's grasping to learn as I go along. Like there was some big book on how to be alive, and I'm the only one who didn't get a copy. And even though I know it's ridiculous, I can't shake it. Like the world is some big movie, and I'm the protagonist. Nothing happens while I'm not around, and if it does, it's only so that it can effect me later on.

How come wikipedia won't tell me how to be an adult?

Women have this great ability to pose open questions, and be comforted by them. Just the idea of airing your grievance is enough. Men, however, need to solve. This is not universally true, of course, but sexual generalizations are some of the easiest to make. The fact is, I'm not satisfied just knowing the question. It's why men and women console differently. You're just supposed to listen, be a part of the sharing process, and then console. I don't know, there there, it'll all be all right. You're not supposed to give an answer. Because it's not the right answer. Or maybe it is A right answer, but it's not THE right answer. I don't think there is a right answer. Actually, I'm sure that there isn't, and that doesn't sit well with me.

It's why I deal with math so well. There is an answer. Or perhaps there's several answers, or even an infinite number of answers, but using proven theories I can tell you EXACTLY what those answers are.

So, what's the equation for growing up?

Terrance Fraser is a liar.

Terrance Fraser is an idiot.

Terrance Fraser doesn't regret things that he obviously ought to.

Terrance Fraser is selfless for selfish reasons.

Terrance Fraser would take it all back if he could.

Terrance Fraser is living for the moment while everyone else is living for the future.

Terrance Fraser wants his passion back.

Terrance Fraser wants a god damned cigarette.




Terrance Fraser would make an excellent gay, if he didn't love pussy so much. Expect him to play many comedically gay characters.

This fellow lucidpseudogod posed an interesting question, and I really had to share with you.



Shitty Thinkers,

We all know that there are mountains of Gold sitting in banks all around the world that aren't doing anyone any good, because gold is a great conductor of electricity.
This gold is gathered by Jews who run the economy and print fake money in its place and force gentiles to demean themselves while getting poisoned by Jewish medicine.
So, how do we save the world from total Judaism?

Jewish is a synonym for 'broken' or 'useless' or 'diseased' as in the sentence
-my computer is being jewish again-

So, there are mountains of electrical conductors set aside and you know that thoughts are electric, so, Judaism or Satanism as it is otherwise known has turned people into cancer causing money grubbing aids viruses that have taken the electrical conductivity of the planet and grouped it into little gold cancers around the globe.

In the meantime we are reduced to using money made out of retarded nerds masturbation jizz dried, mixed with hemp and printed into 'Currency'.

How do we prevent this totally embarrassing Obituary for the Planet Earth?

-So, how did your planet go extinct?-

'Well, the Jews claimed they were God, took all the gold and made gold cancers, and everyone was jacking off all the time, and then the atmosphere left'

-Morons-

How can we rid the planet of this stupid cult once and for all?



Unfortunately, he does not go on to answer his own question, which is disappointing. But I recommend checking out his journal, as he does solve many of the worlds other (largely jew-related) woes.

So this is the main text to a Facebook group I just made and probably invited you to join, but seeing as I never feel inspired to post here I might as well share this with the LJ world as well.

The Myths:
Andy Kaufman was the king of performance art, the practical joke, and hoaxes. Most notably his wrestling hoax in 1982, in which Andy claimed to be the "Inter-Gender Wrestling Champion of the World", saying that any woman who could pin him would get $1000. This enraged Jerry "The King" Lawler, who challenged Andy to a fight. This led to a broken neck for Andy, a fight on Late Night with David Letterman, and much more feuding (This was not revealed to be a hoax until 1995). In December of 1983, Andy was diagnosed with a rare form of lung cancer. He fought long and hard, but the cancer spread rapidly, and on May 16th, 1984, he died of kidney failure due to metastasized large cell carcinoma. His body was laid to rest in Beth David Cemetery on Long Island, and his spirit rose to heaven, to goof on Elvis.

Joaquin Phoenix was born in Puerto Rico. He started as a child actor in such films as Space Camp and Parenthood, under the name Leaf Phoenix, as he wanted an Earthy name like his siblings, River, Rain, Liberty, and Summer. He withdrew from acting and travelled to Mexico and South America with his father, but was dragged back into the spotlight when his brother River overdosed in front of Johnny Depp's 'The Viper Room' club. After about a year, on prompting of his friends, Joaquin returned to acting, and appeared in films such as Gladiator and Walk The Line. Recently, Joaquin revealed to the world that he was quitting acting to pursue a hip-hop career. He made his rap debut in mid-january this year.

The Truth:
I suppose you expect me to say something like Andy Kaufman faked his own death, skinned Joaquin Phoenix, and is now wearing him as a suit. That's disgusting, and I'm appalled that you would even mention it. It's true that Andy's friends have revealed that he often talked about faking his own death. His popular character Tony Clifton has resurfaced many times over the years. However, Andy had said that if he were to fake death, he would make his triumphant return 20 years later, and when that date came in 2004, Andy was nowhere to be found. The myth part of that section is that Andy's spirit left this earth. In fact, it wandered around, looking for somewhere to place it's great influence. Andy tried whispering in several ears. In 2002 he tried it with Jamie Kennedy, who created the television show The Jamie Kennedy Experiment. In 2003, Ashton Kutcher heard the voice, and created Punk'd. And then last year, Howie Mandel was prompted to create "Howie Do It". This was the final nail in the coffin. Andy realized that no one could truely understand the genius of a prank, and drastic measures had to be taken. He would have to do a full scale possession. So he scoured Hollywood, to find the perfect patron. One who could create a believable hoax; one who had a troubled upbringing, proved his incredible talent, become quite famous, and was not currently in any real spotlight. Joaquin was the ideal candidate. Directly after filming of Two Lovers wrapped, Andy stepped in. "Joaquin" announced that he was retiring from film, and none of us knew what to say. The hoax had begun, and believe me friends, it will continue for some time.

How I know it is a Hoax:
So, I don't know the man. I'm just a Joe Public, and I go by what I see on TV. I don't follow gossip rags, so I don't really know what he's doing in general life. What I do know, is that Joaquin knows how to play the game. Over his acting career, he's done talk shows at least fifteen or twenty times, and he knows the formula. His now-famous appearance on Letterman was a clear indicator that this is all a big set up. He comes out grim faced, doesn't acknowledge the audience. He spends the entire interview making short answers, and refuses to talk about even the most basic details of the film that he's there to promote. He pretends to have forgotten things like who was in the movie with him, or what the film was based off of. He claims to have not seen the movie at all in fact, when the premier would have been at least a few nights before the show, as it opened the Friday following. David tries all the Talk Show Host tricks to get him to open up, and nothing will work; even when he pushes the subject towards Joaquin's music, which he is supposedly passionate about, Joaquin is still reluctant to talk. But the thing that convinces me most is his face. He doesn't come out with any enthusiasm, he starts low, and stays that way, the polar opposite of what he must know about talk show appearances. His face stays stone, excepting for a couple of slight sneers. I understand this reaction to jokes at his own expense, but even when Joaquin jokes about the audience, and David responds, the safe still goes uncracked. There is one telltale sign, however: a genuine smile when David says, "I'm sorry Joaquin couldn't be with us today". You're damn right he couldn't, but Andy Kaufman was there in his place, and I think he did brilliantly.

So, let me get this straight. You'd rather waste gas driving to a different gas station, where you will pay several cents more per litre, simply because if you use your credit card out at the pump, the pump-gnome who lives in there will steal your identity. That about sum it up? You, miss, are a certifiably moron.

The only offense worse than this idiocy is blaming me for making Express Pay necessary. I've thought it over repeatedly, and here's the response the next offender gets.

You know what miss, you are absolutely right! We shouldn't stand for this anymore. Hold on, let me call Exxon-Mobile's CEO for you.

Terrance picks up the phone, "dials", "let's it ring"

Hey babydoll, it's Terrance. Put me through to Charles, will you sweetie? I know you do, but I can't make it out until June. Keep it shaved for me, you know how daddy likes it. All right, put me through.

Terrance waits again

Chuck you old cocksucker, how the fuck are you? Well send the private jet and I'll be right there, douchebag. Yeah, yeah, you're fuckin full of shit. Hey listen, I got some broad here says the whole Express Pay thing is ridiculous, and I'm inclined to agree. I don't care what the accountants say, get rid of it by tomorrow or I'm comin out there and cutting your legs off with a hacksaw. Fuck you, you couldn't beat your dick if Jenna Jameson was giving you a private show. Haha, too true. Well I better let you go, this call is costing you a fortune, and the government isn't going to give you any more handouts. Fuck your wife in the ass for me. Yeah I know you will, just don't picture my face on her this time ya fuckin faerie. Hah, all right, peace out faggot.



Elaborate sarcasm is the greatest form of humour.

Oh yeah, so I post in here all the time. This is where I constantly keep you all updated on the exciting blockbuster that is my life.

I start at Wild Earth Foods on monday, so... that's cool.

Thank god I'm always so motivated to do exciting things, or my life would be terribly, terribly boring.

Seriously, somebody save me from my life.


Edit: I did get a really good blowjob yesterday, so that's exciting. But other than my incredibly few and incredibly far between sexual encounters, I'm so terribly bored with life. I need something to do. Maybe this new job will help.

So, I've come to the conclusion that I'm not alive. I'm pretty sure I died some time last year, around April or May. However, due to some sort of existential bookkeeping error, my body has been allowed to continue working. I'm no longer any form of sentient entity, simply carbon matter functioning through electrical impulses.

Either take me out of here, or give me my soul back.

I wish I could grow a mustache.

My life feels so terribly boring, every day. I'm not living, I'm just letting life pass me by.

I'm going to the bar to drink my troubles away. Maybe it will make me into a famous writer.

Hey so, I said I was going to update more, did so like a fiend for about a week, and then promptly stopped. I don't really know why, maybe this shit just comes in waves. Or maybe I'm just as boring as a coma patient on vicodin.

I have a new LJ friend, who said she doesn't like strangers. So, I guess I'll do a quick run through my details.

-I was born Terrance Donald Broughton at Vic General Hospital in Victoria, BC. For most of my life I went as Terry Broughton, but recently I've been trying to be known as Terrance Fraser.
-The next exciting thing to happen in my life was in grade 11, when I was elected president and supreme ruler of my high school, Putin style.
-I am a budding comedian/actor. Well, not quite a bud. More of, a seed. Still in the packet.
-My favorite role I've done was Looseleaf Harper in Kurt Vonnegut jr's 'Happy Birthday Wanda June', because I got to drink and act neurotic.
-Dinosaurs are cool (not really one of MY details, but important to note)
-I'm 6'2", white, have a pierced eyebrow, a goatee, and work at an Esso station.
-I'm 7', black, shaved, and have starred in such genius cinematic adventures as "Shazaam" and the Icy/Hot commercials.
-One of the previous two statements is false.
-In recent years, I have apparently changed from a friendly, outgoing guy, to a shy, self-conscious shut in. I'm trying my best to fix it, but I'm unsure where to start.
-Contrary to what the few gay men I've known seemed to believe, I am not among their ranks. I sometimes have vaguely gay emotions, but unfortunately I just love pussy too much. Penis' ain't my thing.
-I'm an anglodictophile.
-Anglodictophile means "person who likes to make words up".
-I made that word up.
-Deep deep down, I'm a terribly, horrendously filthy person.
-I like knowledge, but I don't like schools.
-Clitoris.


That is all.

Edit: The first one is the false one. Shaq out.

Craig Ferguson got married over the Christmas break. Now all my dreams are truly crushed.

Money is truly the root of all evil. I've been burned, relatively majorly. A burn I can't escape from, because the only option that doesn't involve simply paying for the burn, involves prosecution. I'm so fucking mad, and distressed... I don't even know what to say. I'm destroyed. I'm losing faith, and I don't even know in what. I wasn't even aware I had faith to lose. Fuck you life.

I'm hesitant to post from Mexico, because it feels a little like gloating, but... here I am. We're in a resort called the Grand Bahai Principe, Akumal. It's located just about an hour south of Playa del Carmen, near Acapulco, along the eastern coast of the Yucatan peninsula. The weather of course is very nice here, and the resort is top notch. plenty of good restaraunts, bars everywhere you turn, several nice pools and a whole lot of oceanfront. Yesterday, we went to Chichen Itza ("'Chicken Pizza', because that's easier to remember.) It's apparently the largest Mayan ruins site, 7 square miles. According to the tour guide, in order to see the whole site would take three 8-9 hour days, and I believe it. It was really cool, I've got lots of pictures but the internet connection here is shit so I'll upload them all when I get home. Other than that it's been a lot of lying down in the sun... on Friday we're going to another pyramid, Coba, which you can actually climb on. The tour also involves ziplines and other cool adventurous stuff like that, so hopefully I'll have lots of cool pictures there.

I really have no more to say. So pretend I had a funny closing line, and laugh heartily at it.

Don't [I] want somebody to love?
Don't [I] need somebody to love?
Wouldn't [I] love somebody to love?
[I] better find somebody to love.

This story has been in the entertainment news for a while now I think, but I thought I'd add just one little note. Taken from the Metro:

"Nicole Kidman has been warned she may not have any more children -- because she tried to play the didgeridoo, according to ananova.com.
The Oscar winner blew into the traditional instrument while promoting her latest film Australia on a German television show. Co-star Hugh Jackman laughed and danced on one leg while she played during their appearance on 'Wetten, Dass ...?'.
But Kidman's performance upset members of the Aboriginal community, who say she should know that the didgeridoo is taboo for women.
'People are going to see Nicole playing it and think it's alright,' actor, screenwriter and Aboriginal language teacher Richard Green told the Sydney Morning Herald.
'It bastardises our culture. I will guarantee she has no more children,' he said. 'It is not meant to be played by women as it will make them barren.'"

This whole thing is basically just your a-typical wacky entertainment news story. Here's what startles me: In the last paragraph, "I will GUARANTEE she has no more children". Mrs. Kidman, hire extra security! The sanctity and fertility of your girly bits appear to be at high risk.

Speaking of girly bits, from now on, the combination of both the inner and outer labia lips will be referred to as "Ackmen". This is because every time I heard the name Hugh Jackman, I wished ackman meant something dirty, as it would make that name a whole lot funnier. NOW IT DOES.

I feel... restless, out of place. There are so many things that I want to just up and do, but can't for whatever reason.

I want to get rid of all this SHIT that I own. I don't need it, and I don't want most of it. It's just holding me down.
I want a car.
I want to take said car and go on a road trip.
To mexico.
Through many, many states.
I want to visit comedy clubs, I want to PERFORM at open mic nights.
I want to meet new people, on my own.
I want to have a voice again.

I want confidence.

I want clarity.

I want understanding on a grand scale.

I want to be twenty years in the future, looking back on adventures, not silly jobs that do nothing more than pay the bills.

Someday soon. Someday I will fit my life into two brand new suitcases, sell/trash/give away/burn the rest, and I'll leave. Leave the nowhere that I currently inhabit, and make out for a different nowhere.

An exciting nowhere.

Somewhere.

Samuel L. Jackson is on the Late Late Show. They spent a good amount of time talking about weed, specifically weed in Italy, and tried to get some dude with a goatee in the audience to tell them how much it cost nowadays. Also, Sam is turning 60 on Sunday. SIXTY! That's intense.

From Overheard In New York I highly recommend signing up for the mailing list, they just send one thing every Wednesday, and it's always hilarious.

Stand Clear Of the Closing Gryffindors, Please.

Conductor: Hello, and welcome to the Hogwarts Express. This is platform 9 3/4, and we will be leaving shortly for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Preteen holding Harry Potter book, to suit holding Harry Potter book: Oh my god! I knew they would come for me!
Suit holding Harry Potter book, to himself: I did too.

--C Train

I just found this on www.engrish.com, and I thought I'd share.


Also, I really think this Christmas Carol ought to be an international standard.


Over and out.

I simply had to share this. This is a spoiler if you're planning on watching A Colbert Christmas: The Greatest Gift Of All. Which you should be, because it's awesome.

( Lyrics to Willie Nelson's Christmas Carol )

My sleep cycle has become royally messed up. The problem stems from the fact that I don't like to work at the end of my day, but I work from 3-11pm. So I go to work, drink lots of coffee, come home, get stoned and watch TV until 3 or 4 in the morning, go to bed, and sleep until I have to wake up for work the next day. Or like today when I don't have to work, I stay up until 5, and then sleep 12 hours. It sucks because I'm going to have to try and change this sometime before home, but starting on Friday I work every night until I leave.

On a totally unrelated note, Teletoon Retro, especially late, late night Teletoon Retro, is God's gift to Canadian stoners. Particularly, at 3:30 in the morning the 1972 show "Wait 'Till Your Father Gets Home" comes on. I think IMDB summarizes it rather nicely: "Harry Boyle, a conservative businessman, has a son, Chet, and a daughter Alice. Chet is a hippie and Alice is sexually liberated. Harry's youngest son Jamie is an ally but Harry's wife Irma is a neutral in the ongoing war. The neighbor, Ralph, prepares them for the oncoming takeover by the Communists." It is also filled with hilariously sexist undertones; although it might just be the episode I watched, in which Jamie wants to keep his new trained mouse, but Mom and Sis are scared of it, and are portrayed as the villains. This cartoon is quite obviously geared towards adults. Apparently it aired during Prime Time, much like The Flinstones did in it's day. This is another thing that's aiding my awkward sleep cycle. Especially because Reboot comes on right after.

I'm gonna go hit the diner for some food.