Suri, I am your father.

Today, like many others, has been another work day full of absolute boredom. Yes, I was surfing the web, like millions of worker bees around the world; contributing to the "XX" hours of lost productivity and "XX" in lost revenue, searching for anything to provide perspective on how absurd this American life can sometimes be. The Drudge Report came through, yet again, this time with the headline, Tom Cruise: 'I'll eat my baby's placenta.' Eager to further my belief that Maverick is in dire need of divine intervention, I followed the link to a server overwhelmed by dumbfounded unproductive surfers like me. Undeterred, I Googled cruise placenta and found the story in all its glory. While reading, I let out a "what the f," and a few chuckles notifying my fellow caged hamsters that I was obviously not designing retention ponds. This was too good to keep to myself, I had to forward the PR gem to a group of seven fairly odd 20 something engineers. Minutes passed with no response. It was hardly surprising as I usually send out 20 emails a day full of random questions, scenarios, and office gossip. I began to fidget a bit, looking around for smiles or sighs to verify that my communication had not been intercepted due to its rather questionable content. Sure enough, Abe Fabulous, a fellow droog, was the first to reply with a simple, I love this game. Confused and desperate for an explanation, I maintained my "equivalent of a smoking break stance and zipped off a reply.

It turns out the game is quite simple really. One merely has to peruse the web or newspapers for anything Tom Cruise. Upon finding a story, one underlines various verbs, nouns, adjectives, and adverbs, perverts the original with a dash of creative genius, and forwards the result to myriad friends and enemies. Of course I indulged as did others, contributing revisions that could quite possibly be less bizarre than the original. Twenty minutes and twenty emails later, my belly ached from continuous bursts of laughter, leaving me in good enough spirits to accept four more hours of the corporate shaft. I see a positive future for Cruiselibs, the newest sensation to sweep the nation. I envision it evolving into Cruise or Cruiselib?, a game reminiscent of the Diet Sierra Mist challenge I failed miserably at the Taste 05. In the spirit of continuing to find progressive methods to distract my fellow employees, I pray John Travolta and Kelly Preston wont hunt me down and brainwash me for having a little fun in the workplace at a delusional super stars expense, unless of course Im invited to a scientologist orgy.

Happy Cruiselibbing

(from the wire)

The actor's bizarre plans are sure to shock his legions of fans but the Hollywood heavyweight insists he plans to cook the unusual meal after fiance Katie Holmes gives birth.The 43 year-old star told America's GQ magazine: "I'm going to eat the placenta. I thought that would be good. Very nutritious. I'm going to eat the cord and the placenta right there."Cruise, a devoted Scientologist, made the decision after reading the afterbirth contains important nutrients and vitamins. The 'Mission Impossible 3' star - who has been carrying out medical scans on the foetus with his own ultra-sound machine - has also told Holmes she must give birth in silence, in accordance with Scientology teachings, so the baby isn't traumatised during the birth.The couple have been holding family pregnancy classes in their Beverley Hills home. Cruise revealed: "We've been studying what a woman goes through, what happens to a woman's body."The actor is not the only star to indulge in strange behaviour with his baby's placenta practice. Rod Stewart and fiance Penny Lancaster celebrated the birth of their son Alastair by covering his placenta in tea tree oil and burying it in their garden.

(Jobes 1st Cruiselib)
The reincarnation of Xenu's bizarre plans are sure to shock his legions of fans but the clinically insane closet homosexual heavyweight insists he plans to cook the unusual meal after fiance Katie Holmes gives birth.The 43 year-old star told America's GQ guide to everything ostentatious, overpriced, and unattainable: "I'm going to eat the placenta. I thought that would be good. Very good with a glass of chianti, although much better served with a garlic butter sauce, croutons, and a glass of Louis XIII. I'm going to eat the cord and the placenta right there."Cruise, a devoted Scientologist, made the decision after reading the afterbirth contains important nutrients and vitamins. The 'Interview with A Few Hung Men ' star - who has been carrying out medical scans on the fetus with his own ultra-sound machine - has also told Holmes she must give birth in silence, in accordance with Scientology teachings, so the baby isn't traumatised during the birth.The couple have been holding scientologist orgies in their Beverley Hills home. Cruise revealed: "We've been studying what a woman goes through, what happens to a womans soul when she denies Dianetics as the best book of all time."The actor is not the only star to indulge in strange behavior with his baby's placenta practice. L.Ron Hubbards corpse and fiance Penny Lancaster celebrated the birth of their son Alastair by covering his placenta in tea tree oil and burying it in their garden.

The word of the day is synergy.

(This is fifteen minutes of freewriting)

There’s a single moment just before I nod off into dreamspace where reality begins to merge with subconscious abstractions and I can hardly tell whether or not I’m dreaming.

It’s a bit surreal, eyes closing inasmuch as I attempt to will them open, vision blurring, reality disappearing, no longer a part of the machine, merely a soul withdrawing, shutting down to recharge.

Rest is long overdue, it’s calling my name, echoing through the fragile canyons of an over stimulated conscience. Take my hand and hold tight, we’re about to embark on a ride of self discovery…..

And mere seconds after my eyes shut, an invisible hand slaps me across the face, bringing waking conscience back inches before my car slams into the rear of the car in front. It should be of no surprise, I didn’t allow myself enough time to sleep last night. I was up until the wee hours acquiescing to despair inducing bad habits of isolation and I’m tired this morning. How do I figure out what to write about that isn’t about me, outside of me, my paradoxical zone of uncomfort, my outlet to vent frustrations, speaking with my voice through my words, finding power in opinion.

……..instead of reaching out to others again to help me by providing advice I won’t follow, I need to look within, through my only mirror, my only portal into the dense haphazardly spun web of ideas and inspiration, longing and desperation. My father had delusions that his woodwork would make him rich beyond his wildest dreams. This is one of the only facts I know about him. Sad, but true. I don’t have to submit to repeating his mistakes. I don’t have to follow in his footsteps. There has to be a disconnect, a point to exploit , to tap into and exert maximum pressure to break the bonds that bind me to stagnation. There has to be a method towards the synergy of the certain now and an uncertain future. If writing is my strongest method for self-discovery, then I need to write as much as I can. I need to embrace writing. I need to embrace exercise and yoga. Exercise, yoga, and writing, and rest and reading and working for a living, and attempting to have some fun inbetween paying bills and waiting for paydays. I fool myself to think that I’ve begun this path. The true path for me, the only path which will produce any long term results must include waking up earlier and working harder if I ever hope to split from being stuck and repeating myself over and over and over until I drive my friends and family nuts. I have not given up during these past 6 years, this much is true and commendable. I have given in, though, to temptation and self-loathing and to repetition and it’s ok, I’m human, the past has already dissipated in an evanescent breath of star dust. It’s certain, has passed, and will never come to pass again.

The future, that’s an entirely different story.

If a cluttered desk is a cluttered mind and a cluttered mind is perpetually caught in spin cycle, careening in and out of the lines, over and back upon itself, ending at the middle and beginning twenty miles away, then the grass roots must be attacked.

Start with the ADD.

Believe.

Weallfacejob’strials.

zen

zen:aka chill the fcuk out volume dos

you'll need itunes on the comp from which you're clicking the above link.
peace peeps: here's to a solid week.
jobe.

"What is defeat? Nothing but education, nothing but the first step towards something better."
Wendell Phillips