Archive for November, 2012

As promised/forewarned, Fridays will simply be the day where I catch you up on everything going on at my other blog Kidz Showz. Fridays seem to be a good day to do this and everyone else is pretty distracted by social lives and making plans to kill themselves over the weekend.

What you missed this week was the following:

A Poem for Amanda Bynes where I pour my heart out to the craziest chick I know, Amanda Bynes

Recess where I talk about Miss Finster’s sagging breasts

The Mighty Ducks where I tease the Jews and missed a shot at making Emilio Estevez feel horrible about the roles he takes

Moolah Beach where I talk about a game show nobody remembers and probably shouldn’t because it was pretty bad

I would also like to take this opportunity to open up for any suggestions on shows, pieces, general tomfoolery you would like to see on that blog. But wait, I am also asking anyone and all people to help out by writing a piece. That’s right, I’m handing over control to you. Wasn’t there some lousy Kid’s Show where they would always say that? Even though we didn’t really have control over what aired. If we did we would have played hardcore porn because kids are sick prankster creatures. Anyway, if you would be so kind as to check out something or two I wrote on that blog, contribute any ideas, or even offer to write something up for it you would make my day. Not really. But it would be fun for you to write something up anyway, wouldn’t it?

P.S. Lily also has been updating with posts so there’s stuff about Rugrats, Eureeka’s Castle, and more that has been put up in the last week so after you get finished reading my greatness read hers.

I’ve been thinking a lot about selling my soul lately. Not on eBay or something silly like that. I’m talking straight up to the Devil. It’s hard to get in touch with him though. The Devil has no cell phone service (he has a phone, just no service) and sitting around calling out for him does no good, I’ve tried. I thought maybe doing a post about my soul could help get in touch with him. Who knows? Maybe one of you knows the Devil or something. It’s called networking.

(Satan mocking us in a sweater)

Why would a man want to sell his soul? Is there something I want so badly I am willing to give up eternal damnation in order to get it? These are hard questions to answer. I think there are many reasons why a person should essential sell their soul. Maybe not so much to the Devil, but giving up your morals, integrity, and other human aspects in order to achieve something doesn’t sound so bad right now. I’ve come to the realization I would rather sell my soul before losing it. The same goes with anything. I’d hate to lose something I could have sold. Whether it’s my soul or valuable baseball cards, I hate losing my stuff.

If the Devil were here and he had a contract all written up in a fun yet readable font with a pen I could keep after signing I wouldn’t have to think long before giving him my John Hancock. Heck, I might even leave the John Han part of it out if the Devil looked anything like Elizabeth Hurley. Austin Powers really ruins careers.

(Suddenly I want a strawberry and my toilet cleaned)

There are a few things I would give up my soul to get. Oddly enough most are things I used to pray for. But I have lived my life a certain way to come to the realization a prayer is asking a favor and favors come with a price. The price in this case, my soul. The first thing I would ask for is losing desire. The desire to succeed, to be liked, the desire for everything I want it all gone. Isn’t that what Buddhism is all about? Being lazy and careless and having Urban Legends centering around gerbils up your butt?

(“No Tim, Buddhism is about much more than sticking small pets into your anus. It’s also about not doing anything worthwhile with your popular in the last 10 years.” – Richard Gere schooling me on Buddhism. Seriously, he hasn’t done a thing since Mothman Prophecies)

Selling my soul would basically be for exactly that lone purpose, losing my identity as a person with a soul. It’s been said in science books that every time someone masturbates Jesus cries and a cat kills a retarded person. I want to be the opposite of Jesus, I want to not care what other people do, think, or say. I guess what I’m saying is I’m tired of having emotions. I’m a little sick of being human.

Since my soul seems to have no takers I’m going to keep it. This reminds me of the one time I tried selling some old action figures on eBay and nobody bought them. Rather than throw them in the trash I’ve carried these action figures around with me forever. You can’t just throw out an Andre the Giant action figure without trying hard to find it a good home. So for now I guess I have to keep my soul. I have to continue being angry, petty, sad, angry, frustrated, disappointed, angry, lonely, angry, angry, and thirsty. I’m only thirsty because right before I wrote this up I ate an entire block of cheese. At least I felt satisfied for a few minute.

What would you sell your soul for? Don’t say an evening with me. I already know that to be true.

I’ve had to come to terms with a lot of things lately. The one that should have been most obvious is that I am social repellant. Or is it repellents? I’m being told both spellings are correct and I am terribly confused which to use. You might be sitting in your chair or reading this on your phone kicking your kids in the face thinking I’m insane for calling myself social repellant. How can someone so endearing be cancerous to society? I’m just as confused as you are. I’ve got a lot going for me. I’m smart, I remember all the funniest lines from Family Guy and I’m always sure to repeat them over and over again, I eat vegetables, I tell women they look fat when they do, and I never give dogs chocolate. I have “fun person” written all over me! So why is it that I still seem to be a tiki torch to all the mosquitos in the world?

(One time I met Jeff Probst. He clubbed me in the head)

The first time I ever remember being repellant was the second I was born. My parents always wanted a girl because the thrill of throwing a child off a cliff out of disappointment was something lots of parents in the 1980s wanted to experience. Since I had a penis I had to be given medicine to survive. My younger years I didn’t so much feel like I was repellant as much as I felt like kids were dickholes. The only two significant moments I remember from being young and feeling left out were as follows: the first happened during recess and I was the second to last pick and I celebrated not being picked last. My teammates still seemed a little upset and made sure to not throw me the ball. The other happened in 5th grade when I heard the girl I had a crush on say “I want everyone to sign my yearbook except for Tim and Dan.” Dan was the biggest loser anyone knew. He was so lame even when girls insulted him I got to go ahead of him.

As I got older rejection was more common. When we’re young kids we’re forced into accepting everyone. As we get older people have more flaws and they’re easier to pick on. Girls were and still are something I often feel like a bottle of black flag around. There was no particular instance when I felt like the entire female race was out to ignore me but it was a definite feeling. I knew it was getting out of hand when a black girl stood outside my classroom saying “You bitch! I fucking hate you. You suck” and I thought she was talking about me and not the bitch that sucked and everyone fucking hated that sat behind me.

The one moment I always go back to in my head where I felt most like garlic to a vampire or a carbohydrate to a True Blood vampire was one time when I went out in an attempt to be social. It was at a karaoke night at Hoolihan’s restaurant chain. The waitress was very flirty to everyone because she knew them all. I thought “Hey, I’m a new face. She might want to know what I’m all about.” Nope. She didn’t even acknowledge my existence. Someone making $3 an hour plus tips ignored me. I was crushed. I was so crushed I wrote a poem/song about it.

(True Blood vampires shirtless for no real reason at all other than to remind us we’re watching gay porn without penetration)

I was going to post the poem but after reading it it’s a really bad debut poem except for the “chorus.” Since I did want to post some old poetry I wrote at some point I will post something I actually don’t think is half bad. Don’t worry, all my poems/songs I still have saved (all 44 of them) are about rejection, darkness, Satan, and suicide. Oh, happy day. Why did I choose this poem? It has a very good AABBCC flow to it. The other one didn’t rhyme throughout ergo was not as good.

 Better In The Dark (written in 2009)

 I’m the glass spilt over the edge of the table

You’re the electricity running through your copper cable

We’re the fear that causes you to sweat

They’re the face of evil you have not met

When I come around, do I need to bark?

I’m a man who looks better, in the dark.

You’re the object in all of my dreams

We’re the stitches that keep me together at the seams

They’re the hate I desire to want

I’m the wish if I had I would flaunt

When you come around, do you think I will hark?

I’m a man who looks better, in the dark.

We’re the birds that sing in the morning

They’re the heat that gives pain without warning

I’m the love in which we want to share

You’re the tears in the eyes of those without care

When we come around, do we hit the mark?

I’m a man who looks better, in the dark.

They’re the observers of what they cannot believe

I’m the madness that a paranoid mind will weave

You’re the innocence that would never do what we can

We’re the tumble of a broken man

When they come around, do they feel the spark?

I’m a man who looks better, in the dark.

Other than watching the garbage truck flip the trash into its top in front of my house on Saturday mornings, going grocery shopping was the highlight of my life. When you’re young grocery shopping is amazing, mostly because it’s not your money. I used to find going grocery shopping therapeutic before I was the one paying for survival. Now whenever I go shopping I get pissed off knowing if I don’t do it I’ll die. I yearn for those older days when grocery shopping was a treat. Take a journey with me back to those days will ya?

The most unusual thing when I was a kid when it comes to grocery shopping is that my family didn’t stick with one specific store. There was Shop Rite, Acme, and Marazzo’s. All three were very different stores. All three had their charm. Shop Rite was gigantic and always had movies playing near the register. I remember my dad stopping for a smoke outside Shop Rite once and I went running into the street because I was so impatient. Somewhere out there this could have made a great anti-smoking campaign. Acme was the newer one to come around. What was great about Acme was it was opened 24 hours a day. When I was older I would never go shopping before midnight there. It was always 2 or 3 in the morning. I loved seeing creepy people buy middle of the night cheesecakes. Finally there was Marazzo’s which was more localized. It was owned by Sam Marazzo who once nearly screwed up my birthday because the cake my family ordered was not made. He did eventually come through and I’ve had fantastic birthdays ever since.

(I spent this last year alone watching the Snow White movie and eating fruit. You be the judge if I’m sarcastic saying it was fantastic)

It never mattered which store I was at, I always managed to cause mayhem. Going with the garbage truck theme, one game I would play with my sister was called garbage man. We would hang on the side of the shopping cart like a garbage man does to a garbage truck and jump off and grab food. Why was I obsessed with garbage when I was a little kid? Is this why I don’t own anything nice and everything I buy is used?

Another game I played had no name. It was simply grabbing large sticks of pepperoni from a barrel and sneaking it into the cart then hoping my dad didn’t see until we got to the check-out. A few times he didn’t and he’d laugh and buy the pepperoni. It was weird how obsessed with pepperoni I was when I was a kid. I remember eating it almost every day. I would also bite my coat collars a lot. When coat collar was bitten so often it actually smelt like pepperoni for years after. I wish this was not true.

(Who would ever need to buy this much pepperoni? This is why people are fat)

The only intrusive thing I ever did that would annoy me if I saw a kid doing today was running down the aisles and sliding on my knees. Remember though, this was back in the early 90s. People were still smoking in grocery stores so running and sliding without wheezing was seen as a miracle. Once I almost slid into the evil lunch aide from my elementary school, Mrs. Casa. She was a Spanish woman who for some reason spoke like an Austrian S.S. Officer. “Lunch is over. Please close your lunchboxes” was her catchphrase the children would all repeat. I think Mrs. Casa was smoking a cigar when I saw her in Shop Rite. I’m probably mistaken because my young racist mind always assumed she was related to Fidel Castro.

I think my sister was the one who ruined the grocery shopping fun. Once during a race at Acme I took a commanding lead. I turned the corner then looked back expecting to see her there. She wasn’t. I heard a crash then went to investigate. I looked down the aisle and saw her standing above a broken pickle jar. Glass was everywhere. Pickle spears fluttered on the ground or whatever it is pickle spears do. The manager came over and did managerial things and my sister has been so afraid of pickles ever since that she’s a lesbian now.

(Penis joke)

Now the most fun I ever have at the grocery store is finding something I like on sale. Why does it always come down to money to have a good time?

Share with me, do you have any fun stories about grocery shopping as a kid? Or did you have some other special place like the dump your parents would take you to for fun?

I decided Fridays will be my day where I update you on what’s going on at the other blog I do. I don’t expect you to read every single thing I do, but in these posts I will serve up a reminder to you on the shows I have been writing about. You can also read Lily’s things too since we’re not super competitive or anything like that.

So far I have written pieces called

Batman: The Animated Series

The Adventures of Pete & Pete

Hannah Montana

Funny thing about the Pete & Pete one. I check my email at 4 in the morning because I had just had a bad dream about Michael Jordan getting paralyzed. I had a new Twitter follower, what appears to be the band Polaris. They did the theme song for Pete & Pete. I check their Twitter later on and they’ve somehow found the blog post. They called it nice. I’m not sure how they found it but they did. Pretty awesome and flattering to know someone out there is searching for me.

https://twitter.com/TheBandPolaris

While everyone else gives thanks today I decided I would do something different. A scene from Breaking Bad based around giving thanks popped into my head so I decided to write it up. If you haven’t seen the show consider yourself dead to me. But really, you probably won’t understand anything although you may find something to appreciate about it, hopefully? Anyway, this scene takes place sometime in the next season. If you’ve seen the show then you can pretty much fill in some blanks as to what may have happened beforehand. I warn you, don’t read if you are not caught up because it’s centered around how the previous season ends. Enjoy and have a Happy Thanksgiving whether you’re thankful or grateful. You’ll get what I mean by that once you read my 6 page masterpiece.

Breaking Bad Thanksgiving Scene by Tim Boyle

Happy Thanksgiving!

By no means am I a religious man. When I was a younger boy I saw a picture of Jesus and thought it was Al Pacino as Serpico in disguise. Most of my religious knowledge comes from The Simpsons, South Park, and a few other parodies. I’ve never had much use for religion in my life. I believe there to be a deep seeded evil in me that prevents it. Despite not being holy I feel the need today to defend religion from an apathetic viewpoint.

(Jesus at his press conference announcing he will be returning in a few days)

Atheists get a bad reputation because many are so strongly against religion of any sort. They’re so against it they say you’re an idiot if you believe in anything having to do with religion. Why though does it matter what other people believe? These are the same people who go around yelling at a person when they find out the guy doesn’t like Die Hard. What does it matter if someone doesn’t have the same viewpoint as you? Isn’t forcing your atheist belief system onto a religious person just as bad as a religious person forcing their outdated belief system on you?

The big thing though is a lot of people who are so anti-religion are very pro everything else. Anti-religious or members believing in antidisestablishmentarianism (I had to throw that in) tend to be very what they call “liberal.” Liberal to me means open-minded to everything, easy going, and probably a drug user. I’m not liberal at all. I’m very close minded because I have lived long enough to know some stereotypes are true, some people are assholes, and Keith Richards is the only guy to ever benefit from drug use and I don’t have near his musical talent to even try following in his footsteps. Liberal has become a word meant to represent “I vote Democrat.” Somehow the word Prickface has come to represent “I vote Republican.” I don’t support either party because I agree with things from both sides. I honestly think at this point the Republicans would do a better job for America but the Democrats will do more to help me personally. I don’t really care about how America does. I care about myself because in the end I’m all I’ve got. Enough about politics though. Let me go back to the less controversial topic, religion.

(I don’t get why Obama is the “good guy” just because he’s a Democrat. Isn’t the President’s job to be the bad guy? Rooting for the president feels to me like rooting for your high school principal)

It doesn’t bug me when people mock religion, I’ll do it myself. What bugs me is when someone mocks religion and can’t take similar mocking about something they believe in. If you make fun of someone’s religion you better be prepared to get made fun of for your race, sexual orientation, or handicap. Some may say race, sexual orientation, and handicap are not choices therefore off-limits. But is religion really a choice? I don’t think anyone would choose religion. That’s not how it works. It’s the same way you don’t choose who you’re attracted to. If it were up to me I would be attracted to houseplants because they’d never turn me down and they can’t scream. There are certain things in a person’s life and in their belief system that isn’t even up to them. Call it fate, destiny, whatever you want. If you want to pull a knife on someone based on their religion be prepared to get a nuke dropped on you for anything.

I doubt religion will ever become a big part of my life. Who knows? Maybe I’ll see a Jesus face in a sandwich one day and I’ll take it as I should stop cursing then I’ll join the cloth. I have bad eyesight so I’ll probably never notice the Jesus face and I’d end up eating a miracle. And although religion isn’t for me it does do a lot of great things. It brings communities together, helps those with addiction, and it gives back more than it takes. Sure, some churches and religions are utterly evil in some way but I think it’s worth it to have some around that actually help out. You wouldn’t (well you might) blow up the entire Middle East just because there are a lot of terrorists there would you? With some bad there is also some good. Buy some strawberries from the supermarket and ignore them for 2 days. You’ll know what I mean.

(Doesn’t the mold look like a beard? Now I wish it was Christmas)