Archive for March, 2012

Looney Tunes. (or some shit.)

So, dear reader, I pose a vary important question. Have you, yes you, been keeping up with the Looney Tunes “Re-boot”? If you answered ‘yes’ then congratulations, you’ve one some of the rare and elusive me points, which are redeemable for pretty much nothing. If your answer was ‘no’ then fear not, there’s a gift for you too, it’s called The Looney Toons Show and you’re welcome. 

Basically you take the original Looney Toons cast, (Bugs, Yosemite Sam, Daffy, and co.) through in a few new cast members, (Lola Rabbit of Space Jams fame and Daffy’s girlfriend Tina being the only two on second thought) and make them neighbors/roommates/what-have-you then you’ll get the basis that is this show. Maybe I enjoy it so much because it reeks of nostalgia. Simpler times. Times when Cartoon Network only aired old Looney Tumes episodes before noon. Episodes that you’d already worn out in your youth. Oh yes, good times. To say I’m versed in the ways of Wile E. Coyote and Gossamer would be a truth, if not possible understatement, and seeing these guys in different scenarios brings a little warmth.


I could go more into this, but my ambition is quickly sapped. It’s tough, or some shit.



as empty as the back we never had.

I’m incredibly sick, to start this off. I’m impressed I can even function on the keyboard. Ha. THat makes no sense, but I’m going to leave it there anyway. 

Moving on. 

That’s the tricky part, isn’t it? Your words are so beautiful, so touching, and I want them to be true. But you can’t want something into existence. I can’t get around the fact that when push comes to shove, I’m there for you, but you’re nowhere for me. Everything you hate being done to you, you force onto me. You disappear for days on end, knowing. You fucking hypocrite. The words I want to scream at you, the feelings of hurt and loss I want you to understand, the questions.I know you’re hurting. That’s no excuse. I hurt for you. And I promise, no matter what you think, you’re pain as immense as it is, doesn’t compare. The second I couldn’t help you, you left. You’re there, somewhere, making plans with people, making a future for yourself. And I’m happy for you. I’m glad for you. I’m not even mad. I know a part of me is, but it’s at myself, for being so fucking stupid. For trusting you with myself again and again. You are the single most wonderful, caring, and all around solid individual when you want to be. But, it was never me that brought that out. I was there when you needed me. But that’s all I became, something for when nothing else would work. Maybe that’s why you’ve left me with no explanation, just words stating how rough everything is and pictures of smiling faces. I deleted my facebook today, simply because I was sick of that being the only way to know what was going on. Sick of you talking to everyone but your “best friend” and making plans to move on. It’s a joke, because I’m a joke. 


and there’s no joke worth living. 


come home soon, Rasta’s going to need you.


and the worst part?

All I want is..well, it doesn’t matter. Carry on.

no one’s home

and that’s okay, for now.