fair enough

Screw Jeff Owens Year One

2009-12-23T11:07:00.000-08:00

My brother, Jeff Owens writes a daily comic panel http://www.screwjeffowens.com/ which can be found at the link above. He has recently compiled the first year's worth of panels (he's about to start year four) into a book. Because I'm his brother and he apparently thinks I have something to say on the subject, he requested that I write the introduction. I was honored. Here it is. If you want to buy a copy of the book, go to his site (link above) and let him know. Leave him a comment or some shit, I don't know how it all works, I'm not that smart. It's worth it.

I am not yet sure whether reading Screw Jeff Owens reinforces some of my previously held beliefs or shits on their faces. Never having been too keen on the idea of others intruding on the intimate private details of my life, I feel as though I am guilty of doing what I despise every time I click the button on my toolbar that directs me to the intimate private details of my brother’s life. Yeah, I have a button on my toolbar for this demented asshole, right next to espn.com, imdb.com, and a porn search engine (not giving that one out, do the research yourselves). What does that say? I have put delving into others privacy right alongside the three greatest loves of my life (sports, movies, and fucking). I have somehow become what I despised. It’s HIS fault, that loudmouthed prick. HE invited us in, it’s not like we a started a phone tree to find out exactly what Jeff did everyday, the son of a bitch begged us to look. Not that HIM, the one that dipshits worldwide who will likely never read this book claim to be so devoted to. No, this HIM is the God of these pages, the one who decides who exists within and in what fashion. Jeffrey Leighton Owens, the Unholy Dark Lord of the world you are about to enter (or re-enter more likely because you’re one of the dumbasses who is paying to read something which is available for free that you have likely already read at least once, what a bunch of fucking suckers, it’s not Shakespeare, or Dickens; it’s actually kind of better than either of those turkeys, because while I’m pretty sure Shakespeare wrote words like ‘twat’ and ‘cunt,’ I am certain he never called Jesus a pussy or wrote about challenge pissing) has turned you and me into voyeuristic freaks who are apparently so goddamned bored at some point in the day that we turn on a machine just to read about him vomiting or going to a wedding or sleeping or having his bed pissed on (by a cat, not a person, though that may have happened as well, I’m not ruling anything out at this point. By the way, Nugget, hope you’re still R’ing in P.) What the fuck!? I don’t care about or remember eighty plus percent of the shit that happens in any given day in my life, why would I bother to go out of my way to see what he did? Because, because, because, because, because of the wonderful things he does! For me, it’s the fact that life is boring, and often that’s all I really think about, how boring and pointless and useless and meaningless life as a human being on this planet really is. And when I read (which more often than not is what one does with these “comics,” I mean BALLS!, how often does this guy think he can get away with writing a bunch of words, not drawing a fucking thing and then put a bold black line around it and call it a comic?) his panels I remember that pretty much everyone with a well-functioning brain thinks the same thing pretty regularly, and who gives a shit, it’s the stupid little things that matter, we have no GRAND PURPOSE as humans, we’re just animals like all the other weird things inhabiting this orb, and the only difference is the curse of thought. Monkeys and dolphins and condors and tigers and worms and snakes and raccoons and gophers and elephants and otters and cows and chickens and squirrels don’t waste their time thinking about this bullshit! Maybe the otters do, I love those cute little basterds but I can’t help thinking that when they float on their backs cracking those shellfish with a tiny rock in their tiny hands (paws?) that the whole time they’re thinking one of two things, is this all I’m meant for?, diving and grabbing clams and whacking them with a rock and floating and swimming and playing?, or, if I keep whacking these shells with this rock, then maybe I’ll keep growing bigger, and bigger, and bigger until I’m whacking the glass in this fucking cage I’m in until it shatters, then I can go out and get bigger rocks, and find bigger shells, and keep growing and growing until I’m even bigger than that Godzilla guy Larry and I saw on TV the other night at three in the morning with the guy from Perry Mason and the horrible dubbing into English and Larry and I were totally blazed out of our gourds and what was I talking about again?, oh yeah and then I’ll get bigger rocks and take over this whole place, and have sex with that Godzilla guy, slit his throat and then I’ll eat his remains and take a huge otter dump on this silly orb and fly into space, all the way into space, up to heaven, where I’ll bitch-slap God, and Jesus, and Buddha, and Mohammed, and L. Ron Hubbard, then I’ll find me a nice rock, some heaven clams, float on my back and die. Seriously, next time you’re at Sea World, go visit those smarmy little pricks and tell me you can’t see all those things being thought behind their adorable little eyes. Anyone else insane yet? Yes? Good. You're ready to start reading this book. That’s why I read Screw Jeff Owens, it keeps me thinking straight.

Lebowski Look-a-like Contest Winner

2009-01-20T16:54:00.000-08:00

The award goes to outgoing Vice President Dick Cheney. For those of you who didn't watch the inauguration this morning take a look at this photo and this one of Cheney at the event. He looks like a cross between the Big Lebowski (NOT the Dude), Brando in The Godfather movies, the spooks in A Beautiful Mind, every creepy old man you've ever seen, the villain in a 1940s film noir, and the one guy you would never, EVER allow your children to sit in his lap. It was as though he had heard all of the terrible things people have said/written about him over the past eight years, laughed uncomfortably, and decided that public opinion had been to lenient and him and thus he needed to underscore the fact that he's a devious, dangerous, evil mastermind who's only real joy in life comes from his decades old collection of Super 8 reels of dead puppies being sexually abused by reanimated aliens in the bowels of Area 51.

Sonrie

2008-11-11T17:59:00.000-08:00

Thing One that makes me smile and think it's all gonna be OK in spite of mounting evidence to the contrary. Colin Hay's music. I would like to see an MRI on that guy, fifty bucks says his heart is no less than seven times the size of the average man or woman. More to come as they reveal themselves to me. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

I'm Either Gonna Kill Myself Or A Whole Bunch Of Other Fuckers (Yes that implies my existence in fuckerdom)

2008-10-31T22:44:00.000-07:00

Seriously, when will people realize that fucking magic is not real. Believing in God is pretty much the same thing as believing that David Copperfield can make a tiger disappear.

Also, I loved The Running Man; however, I vow to never vote for anyone endorsed by The Last Action Hero ( I also loved that movie). Seriously, I wish that all my nation's athletes take an absurd amount of performance enhancing drugs. I mean enough to to produce eleven foot tall sluggers who can hit 3800 yard home runs. But for a guy to accept an endorsement from an Austrian with a family history including Nazi sympathizers and an admitted long term steroid user? FFFFFFFFFFFFFucking REALLY?!

Oh yeah, one last thing... Joe the plumber? Last time I followed the advice of a plumber I ended up with too much of my crack exposed and a snake in my hole.

FFFFFFFFuck.

Go Easy On Yourselves

2008-10-28T02:07:00.000-07:00

Ryan Adams saved my life... again. More to come.

A Band of Hypocrites Bigger Than The One In My Head

2008-10-23T16:16:00.000-07:00

The National Football League recently refused to air an advertisment for the upcoming Kevin Smith movie "Zack and Miri Make A Porno" because it had the word "porno" in it. The ad was allowed on NBC's telecast of Sunday Night Football only when the filmmakers gave the OK to remove the last three words of the title from the spot.
While I love porn as much as the next guy I understand the concern for airing a commercial with the word "porno" in it. The NFL is watched by families, not just a bunch of dudes with raging boners ready to whip them out at the mention of screw movies (I do however, concede that group constitutes roughly 98 percent of NFL watchers.) So theoretically I don't have a problem with the decision.
That being said, I feel compelled to mention a few things the NFL apparently does NOT have a problem with. Things that depending on your sanity and upbringing may or may not be deemed worse than an ad with the word "porno" in it. I warrants mention that those who believe these things to be more acceptable than words are completely fucked in the head, which, I suppose means that anyone employed by the NFL in any way suffers from the aforementioned head-fucked condition.
OK, I'm out of breath. Here's the list.

1. Drugs. Lots and lots and lots of drugs. A few members of the NFL's dope fiend Hall of Fame.
-Michael Irvin- He LOVED cocaine. Like a six year old loves a puppy. When he was around it he just couldn't leave it alone. When it was responsible for something negative (like shitting on the floor), he found God and someone else had to clean up.
-Nate Newton- That fucker got busted with almost 200 pounds of weed in his car. Really?
-Bill Romanowski- Steroids (allegedly). I single him out because he played for the goddamn Broncos so he must be a prick, right? But come on, does anyone believe that at least 50 percent of those numnuts primates aren't taking some sort of shrink your dick-grow your biceps cocktail?
-Brett Favre- Even the fucking all-american hero has admitted to popping pills at a faster clip than Matthew Perry.
2. Whores- They all fuck em. Most of em have slapped a few. These guys make Superfly look like the 40 Year Old Virgin. That's how many hos they have in their stables.
3. Woman beating- There are now fewer than 20 shitbirds in the League who have been charged with, or convicted of hitting their wives.
4. Booze. Lots and lots and lots of booze. There's a lot of lousy drunks on those fields.

Out of breath again. Point is, the NFL doesn't give a fuck about anything but itself. And doesn't do shit about any of their problems unless they make it on TV. Is it any wonder that these scumbags would be so eager to stop something people already associate with the NFL (dirty deeds) from airing during their product?

Also, I really like Kevin Smith, but the guy should have told those rat bastards to shove it up their asses. If it wasn't his call, sorry Kevin, I loved Jersey Girl.

Signs of Stupidity

2008-10-08T16:13:00.000-07:00

The word is nuCLEAR, not nuCULAR you dumbshits. You "could NOT care less", not " could care less" you silly bastards.

More to come.

Asi es la vida

2007-08-21T01:18:00.000-07:00

Are you fucking kidding me!? When it rains it pours. Have you ever lost something you loved, been certain it was gone forever, only to find it again moments after you found the perfect thing to replace it? A watch, a record, a hat, a girl, lucky charm of some sort. It's enough to make you want to drink all night fully aware of the fact that when you wake up things will be even less clear than they were when you started. What do you do? What do you do? I am open to all suggestions. For now I think the move is to hang on to the fresh branch, albeit weaker and more terrifying. That other branch, the one you had been swinging from for years broke for a reason didn't it? The new branch may not yet be strong, but I'm gonna hang on and see if with a little effort on my part I can't work it into something solid. I know I can.
I believe there is a reason I often dream of surviving plane crashes. -Randy

no day but today

2007-08-04T22:34:00.000-07:00

Hello to anyone or more likely less than six someones. Over a month since last post. Guess what my fatal flaw is that my charm and good looks allow me to be so lazy that I never get called on it. Anyway...thought for today...there is something incredibly sexy in the simplistic beauty of the sound of a woman rifling through her purse. I cannot explain it beyond the fact that I think it has something to do with the primal clicking of objects that a man can only imagine exist. A man has no real way of knowing what is in a woman's purse without committing a crime. Even your wife or girlfriend will never give you the privilege of entering what I now consider the most sacred of domains. Far more sacred than the vagina or even the ass. Okay...I guess I can explain what is so sexy about the simple sounds of a woman digging through her purse.
Be kind, listen blind.
-Randy

Hello Everybody!

2007-06-29T10:04:00.000-07:00

Good morning no one. Inspired by my little brother (screwjeffowens.blogspot.com) I have decided to undertake the task of sharing my life and thoughts with the world (or in all likelyhood six or seven people who give enough of a shit to waste ten minutes a day reading my truths, lies, and fact/fiction hybrids. Why would I do this? Because this morning my ego is bloated and has convinced the rational part of my brain that I am smart enough and charming and entertaining and witty and funny and good looking enough that millions of people will be interested in what I have to say. Tomorrow may be different. Tomorrow I might think that I'm worthless and no one would care to read this, not even those I claim to love the most and offer me the same assurances. But today the part of me that thinks I'm special is in charge and he says "let 'em all know, open up your window, stick your head out and tell the world, 'I'm funny as hell, and I'm not gonna be so goddamn selfish and keep that knowledge limited to my friends, family, and the occasional random passerby anymore!'" Don't expect jokes though. Maybe every once in awhile. But I'm not a comedian. I'm just a guy who thinks that he thinks just a little bit differently than most, and has just enough misguided self-importance to think that a kid in Hoboken, a mom in Milwaukee, a sheriff in Tallahassee, a gunrunner in Spokane, a tranny in Manhattan, a computer-literate zombie in Cleveland (a well known zombie hub), a bilingual salamander in Austin (Bienvendios Javier!), a lazy-eyed Sportcenter anchor in Bristol, or a four-fingered dentist in West Memphis might want to waste their precious time reading what some half-cocked fool from Arizona thinks about the world. Probably not, but I guess I want to find out. So even if you don't fit into one of the above mentioned categories, please read, and write back. We write funny things and think crazy thoughts that we recently believed only we held. Thanks for your time.
Until next time,
Be different from as many people as possible, particularly the fools.
-Randy