I was born. I suffered.
I suffered some more, and hopefully,
I won't die a painful death.
This is my life.

Android 4.2 photo filters

 If you received a new Android tablet or phone for xmas, and are lucky enough to get an actual Google Nexus device, here are a few features that you might not know about. The new gallery app that comes with Android Jelly Bean 4.2 is phenomenal. Running a device with ~4.1.1? root that pos and get the camera and gallery app from here: http://forum.xda-developers.com/showthread.php?t=1965952

First up,  the filters. They're not the over the top ones of the Instagram type. They're really very subtle. My favorite is called Bleach. It's a high contrast - desaturated effect based on bleach bypass. You also can undo any effect. Android will save an edited version.

Next, the borders. You have some choices here ranging from black, white, square, messy  and rounded. 

You can also crop and edit saturation, exposure and adjust curves, and add vignette, etc.


Purdy ain't it?

RIP Heidi the evil cat

Hell has a new mascot.

~1666 - Dec 4 2012

Save money by killing Santa Claus

In these uncertain economic times, spending gobs of cash on Xmas gifts is detrimental on the holiday budget. I came up with a brilliant idea for parents with young brats at home. Kill off that fat red bastard. No not Satan, Santa Claus. Get rid of the endlessly droning wish list of toys, games and other useless shit that will be tossed in a closet by New Year's. Telling the kids that there's no Santa will put their little minds at ease. Only getting a couple gifts under the tree will be good for them.

No more thinking that Santa has limitless amounts of resources, and the slave labor-elven workforce. This will teach your kids that Santa doesn't hate them, you do. I always hear parents tell their children that they pay Santa for some of the "big" toys. Really, that's quite a ludicrous notion. An omnipotent being like Santa has no need for money. Go the whole yard and say you pay for all of the toys.

So parents, try it out. I think that in the long run, your children will grow to hate-I mean love you for it. Yes, love you.

Owen Slater

I'm too pissed this week about the death of Owen Slater on Boardwalk Empire to create a new card. Suck it writers.

How to tell when it's time to jump in front of a speeding bus

Queen of Crazy
For those wack jobs out there that have a hard time telling when every other living thing on the planet despises you, I've come up with some handy tips. You can use these to gage whether or not you should off yourself.

1. Look into a mirror. When you do this and notice that your eyes are bugging out and moving wildly, this is a good sign that you're certifiable. This is called, "crazy eyes" syndrome. Normal people are afraid of these eyes. If you do indeed have "crazy eyes", stop right here and find a sharp knife.

2. Hate me today. If you do a Google search and find three or more websites out there devoted to your slow painful death, you might actually be hated enough to just not be alive any longer.

3. Hold please. If you consider state child support or unemployment agency workers, your good friends, wine is fine but whiskey's quicker!

4. Black crows. If everywhere you go crows follow and drop animal carcasses at your feet, well, you know.

Weekly Boardwalk Empire motivational card

If you are a huge fan of HBO's Boardwalk Empire, you know that there is always a nice heartwarming scene at some point during the show.
I plan on highlighting this wonderful moment in one of those dumb motivational-esque posters.  As it is late in the season, I plan on going back through the episodes and creating ones based upon each week.
Here is this week's, featuring the always delightful Gilligan Darmody.

Episode 32:

More bday wishes

Happy hellish 40th to my NY hillbilly Lisa. Hopefully, it will be as depressing as mine was.

Birthday wishes

Happy birthday to my very bitchin' sister, let's call her Jennifer.

It depends

A hearty chuckle and guffaw goes out to the asshole who sent me these for my bday. But not too hearty, I might wet myself.

You're just lucky that you have a job

It seems that today the prevailing mode of thinking by employers today is that their employees should just be happy in the slave labor that they are chained to. This really should annoy the hell out of you. At some point with no raises, advancement, or other incentives, workers are just going to say, fuck it, and go out and pave driveways for a living. This might be a little cynical. I'm a realist, which is to say life is real shitty.


You were always there when I needed you.
You knew what I was going to say before I said it.
You comforted me when I was down.
I tried to be a son you could be proud of.
I was always proud that you were my mother.
We will see each other again, somewhere, sometime.
I love you my very special person, mom.

The end is only the beginning

I can only imagine the pain of watching a parent die is second only to loss of one’s child. I can't seem to find comfort in any truths that I know. She is in there behind those beautiful eyes. Even though she cannot speak and her body is shutting down, she gives me a little pucker as I go to kiss her. I know my mother is still there. That is the most heart breaking part. What is she thinking? What sort of calculations, memories, and thoughts are going through her mind? I know that she has pain. The drugs are taking care of that. I can only dream, hope - scream, that she finds peace.

Celebrate good times...Come on!

Yes! I've made it though another
indescribably horrible, monotonous,
mind warping, and yes, excruciating year.
Rah, rah, on the bright side, it's one year
closer to the end.

A Father's Day story

   As my son gets older and we spend more time together doing various things, I think about The Old Man. In this entry I will call him my father. My father had me when he was much older than people had kids back then. So I never really went out and played football with him like a Kennedy or anything. It was always the little things that we did together that made me feel the best, like his only kid.
    The happiest memories of my father were of watching TV with him at night after he came home from work. He would get out the sharp cheese, crackers, and he'd have his Twelve Horse Ale. I'd sit on his lap and watch the A-Team or Mike Hammer. Sometimes when I couldn't sleep, shocker right?, he would let me watch Johnny Carson with him.
    Father's Day is pretty special for a son. I'm sure you can remember making many dad-themed gifts in school. Made with gallons of Elmer's glue and Popsicle sticks, you hoped that it would elicit a very happy reaction. I can recall vividly, making him a file holder out of this concoction. It had 'Dad' written on it in black marker. He did put papers in it and kept it in his cabinet. I was very happy. As an adult sometimes, you forget what it's like to be a little child. As I received my "Number One Dad" hand-painted coffee mug today for Father's Day, I instantly remembered, and those memories and feelings came over me like a tsunami. I hugged my son, and told him I would bring it to work on Monday and drink my ten cups of coffee out of it. And I will.
Happy Father's Day.

How to walk in an apartment and not drive your neighbors nuts

Like most people who have had their lives torched by an ex-spouse, I live in a one bedroom apartment. When you live in a one bedroom apartment, little things annoy you easily. When little things annoy you easily, you write a blog about it. For some cosmic nightmare of a reason, I always have heel walkers living above me. Heel walkers are, you guessed it, people that walk on their heels-a lot. They move through space driving their heel into the floor like they’re trying to kill snakes. This makes one hell of an impact. I don’t care if humans naturally land on the heel when they walk. When someone lives below you, walk flat footed.

Skechers Midnight Shoes

The Old Man's green thumb

Now, The Old Man was never known for his gardening prowess. In fact, he couldn't grow a bush or tree if his life depended on it. What The Old Man could grow, was an abundance of weeds. Not that he really cared about growing anything - he actually liked his weeds. The Old Man grew climbing weeds like ivy. They grew on the fence surrounding his glorious pool. I surmise, he imagined they were growing on some ancient stone walls at an English estate.

I had intimate personal knowledge of The Old Man's weeds. I was in charge of the groundskeeping crew on the estate. I'm pretty sure the weeds were made out of Kevlar and PVC. I could hear them laughing as I approached with the weed whacker.

As you may know, The Old Man, and his pool have fallen into disrepair. Sadly and inexplicably, the weeds have over-taken the pool. The weird shrub-type things in the picture above aren't sitting on top of the cover. No, they're growing up from the bottom. Yes, there's a whole fucking amazonian rain forrest under there.

To save money in the end, we're thinking of just tossing The Old Man and Woman into the pool forrest and calling it a night. Kia Lounge - Pool Accessories

Gym class memories that still make you cringe

In the ever-inventive world of gym teachers, few came up with more maniacal activities than the ones I had as a kid. As the old stupid saying goes, what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger, but they weren’t talking about gym class. I have gathered up some of the best, although it has caused me much agony to do so. I will omit the ubiquitous “square dancing," as I’m sure everyone has suffered this extreme torture worthy of a master Gestapo agent. I blame this wretched coed embarrassment on the popularity of country music and Hee Haw in the 70’s.

The Pool  Ok, I guess you are lucky if you have a school district with enough money to have a pool in a few schools, but swimming ten laps in an Olympic-sized pool is not my idea of a fun time. Most of the burnouts practically had heart attacks after one lap. Adding sand to the Vaseline in this was the fact that we had to wear used Speedo-type bathing suits. Oh yes they were supposedly washed every day, but still, ick. I don’t know if the gym teacher was just a perv or he thought we would steal these wonderful things, but he would make us take off the suits before we would go back to the locker room. Um, he didn’t do that with the girls, hmm. All and all, it was hellish and I would never wear Speedos even if I was French.

The Parachute  Really, this activity defies logic and I can’t imagine anyone coming up with this. Somehow my elementary school happened upon a WWII surplus parachute. In the springtime, the gym teacher would have us haul it out to the field and unroll it. We then sat around the edges of it and attempted to yank the kid over who was holding on to the fabric on the opposite side. Brilliant!

Gymnastics  I’m sorry but grading a bunch of lanky teenage boys’ abilities to straddle a pommel horse and uneven bars is just plain fucking stupid. I swear that the teacher thought he was Béla Károlyi. He even grew the stupid mustache.

Tennis anyone?  Ok, first of all, I have absolutely no eye-hand coordination, so anything that has to do with swinging something and hitting a ball is right out. But, tennis in particular is truly horrible. I don’t know what makes the tiny mind of a gym teacher think that they can turn any kid into a pro within the confines of their little lesson plan. But it ain’t gonna happen.

Looking back, the only time that I liked gym class was when we played dodge ball. The sport of kings. The only thing that should be allowed in schools. Though, I seem to recall the occasional sadistic substitute gym teacher allowing us to use soccer and basket balls during dodge ball. Those were the days!

When I was a kid...

I think some of you may agree with me that kids today are mentally incapable of doing anything for themselves without dying. When I was a kid and had something to do outside of school and it was not blizzarding, I would ride my bike. Yes, my ancient banana seat, rust/red spray painted bike. We would ride our bikes everywhere. You know what unfortunately? I’m still here. People had cars back then. They were even heavier back then. I never knew one kid that was squished by a Ford. If The Old Man had to drive nine kids around non-stop all week long, he would have gotten snipped after the first one.


So remember parents, when you sign your kids up for some, “insert cute-sounding” activity here, you will be the one carting them around. Oh, it might be fun at first, when they are still little and adorable. But, it will get tiresome soon, especially in the case of things like, say, karate. This evil “sport” is run by a consortium of extortionists and blackmailers. The whole thing is designed to keep your kid in it as long as possible. The owners of these outfits invent multiple colors of belts and little pieces of electrical tape to add to them, this ensures years of income. The pieces of tape on every belt, denotes how many cars they own.


So, there you have it. I hate sports and I hate driving. Kids, ride your bikes. Derp.

The enemy sees your light

Now that the US is finally scraping its way out from under the six feet of earth that the Bush administration buried it under, one can only hope that neither of the two Republican presidential hopefuls get anywhere near the White House. We really don't need another yahoo at the reins, invading Arab countries for no reason at all. Spending trillions on war, busting unions and banning contraception is no way to run a country. My .02.

Put your tuna in the air (and shake it like you just don't care)

I've become very adept at surviving on little or no money/food/will to live. I attribute this, "Never give up until your leader kills himself," strength to my German heritage. I know what you’re saying, "Eric, I'm filthy rich, so how can I be more like you?" I'll tell you. For you rich people out there wanting to experience how "real" life can get, here are some steps you can take to immerse yourself in the hell.


If you are used to such fancy foods like steak, lobster and Cornish game hens, then this process will be a bitch. Start by weaning yourself off of that aristocratic slop. Take it slow, you may suffer a series of debilitating withdraw seizures. I have no doubt that you will survive, but you must be strong. For this to really work, you will have to eliminate all temptation to go hog-wild at your favorite high-brow specialty foods store. So, a few weeks before hand, up your contribution percentage to your retirement/401k plan that you have. This will ensure that the amount you take home in your check is very meager.


You will subsist on the following foodstuffs: Uncle Ben's Ready Rice. This brilliant product is a life saver. In addition to the pre-cooked goodness, it comes in many flavors. 90 seconds in the microwave, you have an elegant meal. It's even great for first dates.
Any brand, yellow fin tuna in water. Now, if one day, you're feeling sassy and fancy, try adding a can of tuna to your rice. This will add some much need protein to your diminished diet. It also adds some bulk to the rice and makes you feel full. If you are still longing for filet mignon, keep the tuna in the shape of the can by gently tapping it out onto the plate.

fig. 1 Filet mig-tuna
(Your results may vary)
Generic soy/teriyaki sauce. I liken soy sauce to what drinking out of the Holy Grail would taste like. Delish. You can add it to so many different things, even hot dogs. It is a must in your rice and tuna concoction, because the mixture can be a little dry.

Cheerios. Now there are a few different varieties of this vaunted staple of the breakfast table. Stick to the original. The original is usually the cheapest, and they won't stick to your hands like the honey nut variety when you eat them for lunch at your desk.
Fat-free yogurt. I know some people just cannot stand yogurt, but it’s like 60 cents a cup. With so many flavors and varieties out there, you are bound to find one that you like. A plus is that it will sort of remind you of when you could afford to have a decadent dessert at dinner. You must get fat-free. Just because you’re poor, you shouldn’t be fat too.

Pretzels. Usually, stores will have “two for whatever” price. Get those. If you buy a giant bag of pretzels, a. you will be tempted to eat them all in one sitting, or b. they will go stale and you will break a tooth. Pretzels are also good for dipping into your yogurt.
Water. You now cannot afford soda or sports drinks. Splurge on a bottle of water somewhere so you can keep it to refill. This will allow you to hydrate your whole body. You will also find that your skin won’t be dry in the winter time. No more spending hard-earned money on body moisturizer.

The only area that you can spend extra money on is alcohol. No! Not martinis, Thurston. Just simple beer, cheap wine or vodka. Being sort of drunk a couple nights a week will help you deal with the realization that your life is meaningless. Plus, it will help fill you up so you don’t need to eat at night.


Now that you have grown accustomed to living like a hobo, you may find that you even like it. Fuck all the materialistic haters out there. You are a lean mean subsistence-living god! Oorah!

Melatonin-induced TV show ideas

Since starting my herbal sleeping pill nightly regimen, I have been suffering through brain-chewing lucid dreams/nightmares. Most of these dreams involve some sort of task that I have complete until finished. Then, I wake up for a few minutes and it continues from the start again. It's a ton of fun. Luckily, I can remember all of these tasks the next morning. After wincing through the first five minutes of Celebrity Wife-Swap last night, I figure I can easily created a better premiss for a show. Here's some of them.

Ex-Date: Contestants try to sabotage their ex's blind dates using clandestine measures.

Eviction!: Contestants must volunteer at various soup kitchens and homeless shelters to win a years worth of rent.

Break-in: Contestants try to keep burglars from entering their homes using non-lethal measures.

Pest Patrol: Tag along with exterminators to rid dwellings of vermin. (Hosted by Mike Rowe).

Homecoming: Contestants are forced to live with their aging parents for a few months. They win nothing but their sanity by   being able to move out at the end.