Speaking of poetry, here is one I am "working on," although as you will see, it is pretty much done.


I am a vampire, alright.
I come to you in the night.
Watch your neck or I will bite.
You can try garlic, or that crucifix,
Or wooden stakes that look like dicks,
Trust me on this one, they won't help you much.
I mean, they might, but don't count on it.
I am a vampire.
link to this post   1:40 PM by Trey | (3)
Today is National Make An Embarassing Admission Day. In the grand, humble spirit of things, I'll jump right into mine.

Once this girl broke my heart* and I wrote down the lyrics to A Perfect Circle song on looseleaf and told her it was a poem I wrote that expressed my feelings towards her. Luckily, she figured out the whole thing after APC got popular (who would have guessed), and they started playing the song on the radio. I learned my lesson well, and now I write my own crappy, maudlin poems.

* That sounds so dramatic. Let's just say she made me pretty emo for a while.
link to this post   10:08 AM by Trey | (3)
I just read a CNN news story about a terminally ill kid (cancer) from Georgia whose last wish was to kill a bear. Now I know that I don't really relate to "hunting culture," but doesn't that seem stupid? Then they showed a picture of his funeral where they had a stuffed teddy bear on his casket. "He loved bears. He always dreamed of bagging a big one." WTF? Why not get the people who make this shit happen take him to a zoo and let him pet one or feed it or something. Instead, he exhibits his great devotion to the ursine species by murdering one. Way to go out with a bang, Timmy!

Meanwhile, I've been extremely productive for the last five days. Last week I proposed a gentleman's wager to my co-worker to determine who could grow the most luscious moustache in two weeks time, even though he had the distinct advantage of having dark black hair. The entire weekend, after my lip foliage began to take shape, I was forced to endure the unfettered attention of moustache-loving females everywhere I went in the city. I was looking forward to the work week, not only so I could compare my modest facial landscaping with my co-worker, but also to enjoy a much needed reprieve from the increased attention from the opposite sex. Much to my chagrin, I arrived promptly to my office, and upon glancing forthwith at my colleague I surmised that his moustache had been shaven outright that very morning! A gleaming patch of stubble stood where a proud Clouseau-style semi-ellipse had been only days before. You fucking asshole. I'm pretty sure the first rule to trying to win a moustache growing contest is:
  1. Don't shave your lip.

I'm so flippin' mad that I don't trust myself to shave. I've decided to soldier on with the contest, despite the fact that I am the only contestant. Anyway, I've been told that I look like a taller version of Cary Elwes in the Princess Bride, or like Ryan Phillippe, or a white version of Will Smith.

Did Alexander the Great shave his moustache just because he conquered the world? No.

Did Zeus, Lord of Olympus, trim his lip just because he was like, a deity? Hell, no.

Did Abraham Lincoln cut it off after he freed the slaves? Yes, yes he did. Then what happened? He got assassinated because everyone was like, "Hey, I didn't get a moustache ride."
link to this post   5:40 PM by Trey | (1)
Man...I'm totally pooped from the Twin Peaks Season 2 marathon that I imposed upon myself last night. I had four episodes to go when I got home yesterday around 9pm, and after watching one whole episode I realized that there was no way I could stop until I reached the end. Just as Agent Cooper went on a dark journey into the depths of the supernatural at the end of the final episode, so did I sit in my darkened living room and explore the depths of the box of Triscuits that I opened for the occasion. After it was all over, I sat and contemplated the strange, dark thoughts that were swarming around in my huge brain.

There's some stuff about that show that just really makes you think, you know? I mean, what if the Black Lodge really exists? Wouldn't that be creepy? Would you totally freak out if a dancing dwarf in a red three piece suit started talking backwards to you? Isn't Mädchen Amick hot? I mean, she's totally hot, right? Who is hotter, Sherilyn Fenn or Lara Flynn Boyle? I mean, they are both totally hot in that sultry, mysterious kinda way, and they both have gorgeous eyes, but really, who is hotter overall?

David Lynch is such a genius for making his viewers really think about these and other questions.
link to this post   3:03 PM by Trey | (1)
I know I should probably just sleeping dogs lie, but there is a story to be told, and as long as I'm here coming down from some of the most intense and awesome shit I've ever experienced I'll get it off my chest, and by "chest" I mean my massive, rippling pectoral muscles. The fact is that I had a killer workout yesterday, and I just can't get it off my mind.

Here's what happened.

It all started while I was just hanging in my apartment. Suddenly, I was so overcome with the overwhelming urge to push my body to the limit that it wasn't even fucking funny. Before I knew it, I was pulling on my awesome skintight black biking shorts, and my color coordinated black tank-top and black cycling shoes. As I walked out the door and prepared to mount my two-wheeled steed, I couldn't help but notice a group of fine women standing outside the restaurant across the street, basically ogling my package. I could tell that their male companions were feeling really insecure about their bodies and shit at that moment; it was really kind of unfair for them. My mistake. Anyway, they didn't have much time to stare because I was already hammering down the avenue at 14 plus MPH.

It wasn't long before my quadriceps were quivering and glistening with sweat like the well-formed flanks of a championship racehorse. I made it to the park in record time and started cruising around the loop with all of the regular people. Their faces were just like, "What is he doing here? Did we stumble into some Olympic training facility or a secret government genetic engineering project?" I pulled over at one of those workout stations and cranked out some pullups and pushups like they were nothing. There were these women walking past with strollers and I could see them looking at their babies in disgust, and I knew they were just thinking, "I wish I was having his babies instead." I was just like, sorry babes, I'd love to make that happen, but I'm in the middle of pumping up the guns. You're just going to have to accept it.

After that was over, I decided to do some work on my abs. I took off the tank top and started ripping the shit out of my abdominal muscles. I did over 50 reps and man it felt so good. It was somewhere around this point that I realized that I was in the middle of a yet another killer workout. By this time, I was literally dripping with sweat, but instead of looking gross, it looked really great. I decided that it was a pretty good look for me and that it was probably best if I called it quits before I got the urge to do some more reps or something.

Anyway, I think that's about takes care of staying unbelievably physically fit for me. You best believe that in no time, I will be pushing my body to the limit again before you even know it.
link to this post   1:19 PM by Trey | (1)

"Six foot eight"

"I have a small penis."
link to this post   5:11 PM by Trey | (0)
EXCEPT FROM MOVIE SCRIPT FOR "The Worst Three Years Of My Life" or "How I Learned to Hate Law Students"

BACKGROUND: Five strangers in their mid 20's are stuck in the poorly renovated kitchen of a camelback double after a miniature nuclear war devastates Uptown New Orleans. A mysterious force (think Captain Nemo in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea) brings supplies to the strangers through a small hole in the kitchen floorboards, however to avoid radiation poisoning, none of the five can ever discern his identity. A deformed white cat has developed a psionic mutation that allows her to control the thoughts and deeds of the five (as well as walk on two legs like a human), and inhabits the upstairs rooms above the kitchen, coming down periodically to bend the five captors to her devious will. The five are surviving only by combining their unique skills to help and support each other and by never descending into the petty drama and squabbles that would usually affect such a group.


We are bored, so I try to lift spirits by breaking out the basket of miscellaneous percussion instruments.

[TREY] "Hey, what should we sing?"

[BCUP] "How about 'Living on a Prayer'?"

[LINZ] (wide eyed) "Oooh, I love Jon Bon."

Cut to height of chorus, where we barely make it past the "Take my hand" part before fading out disheartened.

[BETH] (exhales large puff of smoke) "That was gay."

[TREY] "Well do you have a better idea? I know! We can start to repopulate the planet ... Hey where did Beth go?"

Beth jumps out from the shadows and ninja chops my neck from behind. I collapse, unconscious.

[TREY] (Waking up, groggy) "Hey, what happened. Did another bomb go off?"

Marne ninja chops my neck from behind, hard. I collapse again, totally unconscious.


Everyone is stretching and rubbing their eyes. I wake up in the same place where I fell, except my face has been drawn on with a sharpie, I am wearing nothing but a black tank top, and miscellaneous household objects have been balanced on my body. A brushed-nickel colander festooned with asparagus is covering my naughty bits.

[MARNE] "Hey, Trey, why don't you go see if the radiation levels have gone down."

I am sent outside to check if the world is still unsafe to inhabit, and make a big deal of walking outside in a "radiation suit" but then when I am outside, I take off my glove and catch "nuclear fallout" in my hand in the form of guacamole (or guacasalsa). I walk back into the kitchen with hand outstretched. People sigh with resigned disappointment. I stand, arm outstretched next to Beth, who is eating chips. She dips her chip into the fallout and eats it. I look confused and wipe the rest on my suit.

[TREY] "Hey everyone. I know it's been hard on everyone, but we can't lose hope. When I was growing up in Little Israel, I used to despair when my family hit hard times. Take Lindsay here. She's just a small town girl, living in a lonely w..."

[LINZ] "Oh, no you didn't!"

Wry smiles creep across everyone's faces as we realize what is about to happen.

[DANCE SCENE] (need to write choreography)

[LINZ] "Whew, that was fun. Now I'm hungry and tired and my tuna itches." (walks over and scratches a real tuna fish that's been sitting on the counter the whole time!)
link to this post   3:50 PM by Trey | (2)
I don't get road rage. Well, at least not in the traditional sense of the phrase. I keep an electric shaver (thanks, Beth!) in my cupholder, and whenever another driver does something objectionable, I switch on my Norelco and run it over my manly features a few times. That way, instead of people saying, "Hey, you look really angry," they instead say, "Hey, your face is really smooth."
link to this post   10:42 AM by Trey | (0)
Why Text Messaging Sucks (For Me)

1. It's unreliable - People say that have sent me a message and I don't get it, or my phone says "Last Message Not Received." It's not as if the message gets resent if it fails, or notifies the sender that it failed, one of the failsafes that email touts. There is no central repository for text messages where you can retrieve at your convenience. It's just a faster passenger pidgeon, basically. I hate pidgeons, too.

2. People expect you to respond instantly - This one is arguably the most annoying. With a cell phone call, you have at least a modicum of choice whether to respond or not, if you are busy or don't feel like talking. With a text, people feel slighted if you don't dash off a reply right back, no matter how vacuous.

3. It contributes to the continuing degradation of writing skills - Acronyms. 1337 speak. No punctuation. Enough said.

4. It is a crappy means of conversation - I believe texting became popular because it afforded a means of quick communication when voice calls were impossible, or likely to be so short that they were unecessary. It seems like now I send a number of messages to accomplish what could be more easily done with a one minute call.

5. It is so damn removed - Don't you just want to hear people's voices sometimes?
link to this post   4:02 PM by Trey | (2)