Melanie J. Hebert

So folk sensation, Melanie J. Hebert covered my song, Bloom, and did it ten million times better than me.  She is currently my favourite folk artist.  Click on this shit below to hear her rendition of Bloom.

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When The Holy Ghost Takes Over

Great news Doug Addicts!  Check the VIDEOS section!  I just uploaded a bunch of stuff.  There will be a lot more to come.  I’m so fascinating.  Stop hating on me for being so fascinating.  Find a way to be fascinating yourself.

I’ve been advised by my manager to stop referring to myself as the greatest songwriter in the world.  He didn’t explain why.  Nor does he need to.  I get it.  Act like a cocky asshole and people won’t even give you a chance regardless of how brilliant your art is.  Well, except me maybe.  Because I am an anomaly.  I am honourable and objective.  Maybe the only one alive.

Let me explain this whole me being the greatest songwriter alive thing.  I don’t write for other people.  I don’t write for money.  I write exactly what my ears need to hear to remain engaged.  That’s all.  No one does it better than me.  There is not one artist out there among my favourites who get it right every time.  I get it right every time.  The Creeps have written some of the best songs I’ve heard in my life.  But they also wrote Ready Roll, All The Way Home, and Bullets At Ghosts.  I could go on about a bunch of other bands and their songs but that would detract from my favourite subject.  We all know who and what that is.

On the weekend I saw one of my many, many nemeses.  We had a good talk.  And I do mean good.  I enjoyed it from front to back.   Some people suggested to me that I was being fake because I was being nice to someone I didn’t like.  What the fuck is wrong with people?  That is not being fake.  That is being polite.  I shared common interests with this person.  We talked about them without killing each other.  We were cordial.  What the fuck is wrong with that?  I don’t care what kind of spectacular asshole you are.  I will be cordial with you if you can be cordial with me.

I’m really looking forward to a new chapter in my life and starting fresh where I haven’t burned any bridges.

It’s hard to explain to people in person to take this blog for what it is.  Satirical and entertainment value.  I’m sure most of you imagine me writing this with a tail and fangs and typing with one hand while I ball my other into a fist and wave it.  That’s not the case.  This is just literature.  It’s a blog.  If you’re letting my blog ruin your day or form a derelict opinion of me because you’re too elite to know the real me, then you can go titfuck a fat guy.

I hope you’re all truly as happy as I am.  All of you.  Anger and ill-intent doesn’t do anyone any good.



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I Would Hurt A Fly

You’re god damn right I would hurt a fly.  Right now I have a team of scientists working on a torture gauntlet for mosquitoes that doesn’t involve a giant cow carcass to attract them.  That’s the hardest part.  Where would I go for said mosquitoes?  Fucking Beaverton.  That’s where.  That disgusting little devil town is full of them.  You got all the amenities a libertine would love.  Crooked real-estate agents.  You have a hard partying mayor and his opportunistic gory wife.  You have the ex-cop neighbour across the street who engages in town drama to detract from his obesity and cheating wife.  I could go on.  In fact i would if I wasn’t so busy being knee deep in living my fucking life!

Fuck Beaverton.  Burn it to the ground.

Let’s get back to the hate.  Today is a hate day.  Everyone so often I get some half-baked hippy type trying to show me the err of my hateful words.  While these hippies have some validity in the things they say, I call bullshit.  How entertaining would this blog be if I wrote about nothing but sunshine and flowers?  I am an entertainer.  I love this blog.  It keeps me from having to leave my room to actually entertain.

Do you think I actually enjoy going out to a bar and be around people who drink to make their shitty lives more manageable?  Sure!  I love playing my guitar for a bunch of assholes who are just going to talk over my whole set anyway.  I want to be in the same room as a bunch of losers who can’t be bothered to floss their teeth but have no problem talking to you three inches from your face.

This blog is my life.  I can entertain from the comforts of my own home (such as it is).  It is this blog, where I can lie to liars, steal from thieves, stand up to bullies, make good people laugh, make bad people scowl, and leave everyone else guessing and trying to figure me out.

Hate is ok.  It really is.  It all depends on how you channel and harness that hate.  I’d rather hate healthily than give myself ulcers trying to pretend that I’m not hateful with an insincere smile on my face that I think is pissing everyone off.  You know it’s not hard to tell when someone is smiling through clenched teeth.

Let’s talk about things I hate.

I’m pretty straightforward about my mental illness and personality defects.  There’s nothing worse than telling someone that I am mentally ill and they respond by telling me they believe everyone is mentally ill to an extent.  Fuck me.  Oh is that so?   I’ll tell you right now that I am ten times the fucking badass you are because if you ever experienced what I do daily, you would crawl under a rock and cry.  Hur hur hee hee everyone is mentally ill to an extent!

I hate people who chew loud.  I hate people who fart out loud.  I hate people who belch out loud.  I don’t even care if you excuse yourself.  You’re a rude and ignorant piece of shit.  That is the best you can do to be the center of attention.  You’ve got nothing else.  How does that feel for you?  All the aforementioned transgressions are not funny.  Have some fucking respect for the people around you.  I know this will only encourage you to do this when you see me in public.  This is great for you.  Now you know how you can finally piss me off.  Go to town, you original cunts.

I hate people who rely on alcohol.  I am not talking about people who can drink responsibly and behave.  I am talking about the people who can’t get through their shitty day without it.  But even more so the people who turn into fucktards when they drink, and continue to do so knowing there is a chance they’ll be fucktarded.  Cowards.  All of you.  Congratulations.  You get hammered to escape your own miserable life and make the lives of others miserable in the process.  Rock on, you pathetic waste of life.

I HATE bullies.  You would think a guy my size would never get bullied.  You would think wrong.  I’m a target everywhere I go because of my size.  Hey look at the big guy!  I’m gonna fuck with him.  I am drunk and feeling no fear.  Wait till my friends see how much of a big man I am.  Maybe that ugly slut I’ve been giving party eyes to all night will want to fuck me if I take a round out of this guy.  Yeah that’s right.  It happens.  It hasn’t been so bad since I’ve been walking with a cane but it still happens.  Bullies suck in general.  There’s not a whole lot you can do about them other than stand up to them.  Support groups and counselling will not help this generation of pussies.  Be loud.  Draw attention to their bullshit.  At times I will scream melodramatically for my mother or something else ridiculous.  It will draw unwanted attention to them.  And for every bully in a bar, there is the idiot vigilante who doesn’t want to save the day as much as get into a donnybrook themselves.  Let the vigilante and bully figure it out.  But I’ve never ever seen a bully prosper who has been stood up to.

Ok I gotta slow it down.  I’ve written too much.  Way more than I’m comfortable with.  I have a pack of dry Mr. Noodles with my name on it.  You all have a wonderful day.




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In The Void Where Levity Is King

Good day, Doug Addicts.

It’s been an emotional ride these last few months.  Some days good.  Some days ungood.  Bah!  We’re all still here and I love each and every one of you for it.  I want to keep today’s blog lite.  I am going to post the funniest scenes I’ve ever seen in my life from various movies/television shows, or just skits.  Watch every single one of them  Don’t be an assclown.  I know you’re all hellbent on being all about yourself and getting onto your pointless day, but you’re here now ok?  Watch these videos and be thankful for the laughs.

History Of The World – Part 2

I saw this movie when I was still in jail.  It wasn’t very memorable for the most part.  I consider Mel Brook a pretty funny sort, but I think I was still too young to understand a lot of the humour.  This scene really resonated with me.

Dead Bang

This wasn’t a comical movie by any means.  I think that is what made this scene that much more devastating in the funny bone department.  Don Johnson really knocked this scene out of the park.  Most of us can relate to this situation I think.


Few people are more unimpressed by potty humour than me.  This scene is the odd exception.  I choked on my popcorn theater laughing at this.

South Park – Bigger, Longer, Uncut

I don’t know why but this scene made me laugh the hardest in a movie FULL of laughs.  I remember watching this with my ex-wife.  She ridiculed the movie and shamed my sense of humour.  She insisted the only funny part of the movie was Big Gay Al mentioning his little hat.  Anyway, I love this one.

This little endeavour is a lot more time consuming than I thought it would be.  I am going to close off with a scene from a movie that I haven’t even seen.  I discovered this scene from Watchmojo.  I don’t remember the nature of the countdown but this cracked me right the fuck up.  For those of you who are squeamish, I would give this one a miss.


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The City Knows Our Name

I’ve progressively gotten softer over the years.  There was I time that I was such an ignorant and disagreeable lout that I couldn’t maintain positive friendships.  The friends I actually did have were the world’s biggest douchbags.  We were all in the same boat.

Times have changed.  As I became a better person I noticed the quality of my friends change.  I also noticed that the more I changed, the less tolerable I became of the douchebags.  It’s not as though I just abandoned the douchebags completely.  I mean they put their time in with me.  I do my best to keep in touch but realistically there is no real common bond anymore other than a stained past.

Right now I am sitting in a situation where people either love me or hate me.  There is no real happy medium.  I’m genuinely proud of this.  That is a testament to my character.  I stand up to bullies.  Whether it be a cyber-bully, a real life bully, an elitist pseudo-intellectual, or just an all around cunt.  I am Alpha.  You come to me with your shit and I will spank you.  Words are my bullets, and I’m John Fucking Rambo.  I’ve yet to fall and I only grow more powerful with age.  Good people love me for that.  Bad people hate me for that.  Either way, they’re a fan.

Christ.  I can’t construct a coherent blog without going off on a “me” tangent.  This was supposed to be a good news blog.

Ok the good news.  George “Trole” Taylor has been one of my best friends, muse, musical mentor, and brother from another mother for 15 years.  He’s starting a record label called Skin City Records and I’ll be the first signing.  Trole is a hard worker and fronted one of the most successful indie bands Canada has ever seen.  When I say they did things on their own terms you best believe they did things on their own terms.  They’ve toured tirelessly and have sold out clubs everywhere with no label or video support.  Their roots rock and roll demanded every audience member’s fucking attention.  I don’t care if you were a rocker, rapper, or metal-head.  ANYONE who has ever seen Trole live can attest they were the greatest live band in the galaxy.

Take a band like The Matadors.  Add talent, honour, average height, and respect and you have Trole.  Not taking away anything from little Joel Parkins’ better than average guitar playing and showmanship.  But Trole is the real deal.  I learned later in life Joel was a Trole reject.  You can’t compare a band like the Matadors to a band like Trole.  That is like comparing Chris Walter to Stephen King.  Who?  Chris Walter.  This “punk rocker” who wants to be taken seriously as a writer.  He publishes his own books acting as though he’s too edgy for mainstream publication when in actuality his books are just shit.  I read one.  I compare it to reading a school project done by an 8th grader.

And I’ve gone and done it again.  I have turned my good news post into a dredgefest.  Some things will never change.

ANYWAY.  I’ll be working with closely with Trole, so I’ll be moving to his town.  We’ll be way more accessible to each other and we’re going to make a Doug Hell record that is going to set the world on fire.  I promise you that.  It will be the best thing to ever come out of me.  I’m going to be the first artist in the history of the world who gets better each album.  Under Trole’s tutelage and guidance moonlighting as a producer, I can’t fail


I’m excited to the point of giddiness.

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Pale Rider Pale Horse

It had been brought to my attention that Jehovah Witnesses believe there is only so much room in Heaven.  That baffles me.  Let’s supposed the zombie apocalypse goes down next week.  You were smart and built your anti-zombie sanctuary ahead of time.  But there is only so much room in it.  I like to think of myself as a somewhat good person.  When shit hits the fan I’m going to help as many people as I can.  I have precisely zero problem dying to help people.  In fact the notion of sacrificing my own life to save someone else’s life makes me giddy.

That being said, I still couldn’t fathom going door to door to try and recruit people to come to your sanctuary.  I think I would keep my mouth shut knowing that I already have a berth and get the ones I love to safety.  Not go around recruiting strangers who have the worst candy.

*     *     *

It’s been a hell of a week.  Hell.  It’s been a hell of six months.  Hell.  It’s been a hell of a year.  Hell.  It’s been a hell of a few years.  Yesterday something amazing happened though.  A dear old friend reached out to me.  Jimmy Vapid sent me a poster from our tour in 1998.  This was before the age of photoshop and it brings back memories.


Touring is a fucked up endeavour.  Especially touring with two old-school friends who shun computer technology.  Also bear in mind this was in 1998, way before the internet was in 80% of households across the world.  But tour we did.

You’ll notice there are no nights off.  When you’re an indie band on tour in a foreign country (that’s right America, you go right ahead and build your wall), there is no fear more prominent than a night off, or a cancellation.  FUCK that.  You have to stay busy.  You need to keep working.  No working means no money.  No money means you’re broke-ass in the worst country in the world.

Touring is not fun.  It’s not glamorous.  It’s fucking exhausting.  It can destroy your band.  People think it’s one big party.  We wouldn’t have survived that tour without the leadership of Jimmy.  He ran a tight ship.  He controlled everything.  He managed and did all the driving, and he did so with efficiency and vigour.

Yeah.  It’s not one big party.  I wouldn’t ever do it again unless the conditions were better.  Jimmy did a great job taking care of us though.  We didn’t go hungry.  And it didn’t matter if we stayed in a hotel or someone’s house.  Jimmy ALWAYS slept in the van, protecting the gear.  When the transmission blew in Pennsylvania, his dad brought out another one from Canada.  Jimmy and his dad spend an afternoon putting it in, while Scotty and I drank outside waving to the Amish passing by in horse carriages.  It was all very surreal.

Jimmy didn’t take shit from anyone.  It wasn’t as though he was a scrapper or anything.  He was just very intimidating despite only being of average height.  When we played at the Continental in Buffalo (not to be confused with the Continental in NYC) there were black people intimidating patrons and the like into giving them change for them “watching their cars for them”.  Most people complied without a word.  When I brought some gear out from the club to the van Jimmy was out there chewing out the biggest dude.  Jimmy adamantly explained he needed change more than the extortionist and maybe he should get a job.

It was on the road we would play with legendary punk bands such as Dillinger Four, Anti-Flag, The Pee Wees, Chixdiggit, Groovie Ghoulies, Hellacopters, Marky Ramone And The Intruders, to name a few.

We played the legendary CBGBs.  I know what you’re thinking.  That is awesome.  It really wasn’t.  Standing where Dee Dee Ramone once stood as we kicked the asses of the other bands and staff couldn’t provide a thrill big enough to eclipse the insufferable heat and 5 dollar beers.  5 bucks?  That’s nothing.  Well it was a ripoff in 1998.  Especially in America where the beer was cheap as fuck.

Mentally I was pretty low.  I had yet to be diagnosed with my current diagnoses.  I was unmedicated and spent most of my time alone, disassociated.  I was paranoid that Jimmy was trying to shame me into suicide.  I was sexually reckless.  I had a two year old son at home I wasn’t positive was mine.  I was 25 with the mentality of a 14 year old.  I was extremely irresponsible.  I broke my amp out of carelessness opening for Anti-Flag at the in Connecticut.  I had to play the rest of the set through the PA making it impossible to hear.  I also got caught smoking backstage.  Smoking wasn’t outlawed yet, but since Anti-Flag were there they didn’t allow smoking for some gay reason.  I spat at their crew member who caught me and it strained relationships, to say the least.

In Cleveland I left the glove compartment open when I took the road journal out.  The light stayed on and burned the battery.  That was probably the worst of my shenanigans but I was just an ass in general.  I would avoid Jimmy and Scotty at all costs and disappear on them, only reappearing five minutes before we took the stage.

I have good and bad memories of the tour.  I have no regrets.  What an experience.  Jimmy and I are actually cool with each other today.  I have great respect for him as a human being and a musician.  Scotty too.  You would have a hard time finding a better drummer than Scotty in punk rock.

Thanks for tuning in guys.  It felt good to talk about something else other than spouting off bullshit about some other gay shit going on in my life.  May peace and honour be with you all.

Love Doug


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Early One Morning As Time Stood Still

Ok.  It’s over.  I fucked up.  I have sinned in arrogance.  I have sinned in complacency.

I used to think I could see into anyone’s soul.  I used to think that I could see through a con a million miles away.  I can’t.  I’ve been a god damn fool.  I’m pathetic.

For the last three years of my life I’ve been played.  I’m a joke.  I don’t have the ability to see into people.  If I did I would not be in this situation right now.  It’s with the heaviest heart and utmost humiliation I admit I was wrong.

I did my very very best to be the best friend I could be to someone.  You know what?  That isn’t true either.  I’ve been hopelessly manipulated and played and lashed out to people who ARE NOT my enemies.  And let’s be honest.  It’s not the other person’s fault I’ve been played this whole time.  It’s no one’s fault but mine.  I haven’t been a the best friend I could be to this person either.  All I’ve done is support their negative behaviour.

I owe way more apologies than I am comfortable admitting.  I would do it publicly out here but I know for a fact these people would not want their names mentioned on here.  I would do it to their face (as I like to do things) but they won’t have me anywhere near them and for very good reason.

I am heartbroken, but more effectively, disgusted at my behaviour for turning this blog into a venue for my little pot shots at people who are NOT my enemies.

I am very, very, very, sorry.  I’m not going to close this blog down because I believe I can do some good with it.  Also, I need this catharsis.  But I swear on my family’s lives I will never ever reduce myself to the obnoxious, ignorant, jerk that I have been since I started this in late 2014.

To those I’ve insulted, and offended, I humbly apologize and don’t expect forgiveness.  You’ve earned your ire.  You deserve it.  This isn’t mea culpa.  Well I guess it is.  I know I’ve had moments of clarity in the past and have tried to not be such a fucking asshole, but I also know that this apology means precisely fuck all if I don’t show I am sorry.  Talk is cheap.  When I get on a better computer I’ll be going through my blogs and editing the shit out of them.  It will take a lot of time but you all deserve no less.

I, Douglas David Hill, resolve to stop being a petty cunt and ignorant piece of fucking shit.  Please accept my apology.  I don’t expect forgiveness.

I will never fail you again.  Ever.


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Catching It Fading

I’m not a political person by any means.  I don’t really know enough about politics, nor am I interested in them.  Forgive my derelict and ignorant perspective, but it seems straightforward.  If you have a load of money in the bank you’re going to vote for whoever will help you protect that money.  I don’t know.  I know that there is no one politician that can make everyone happy.  Again, I don’t know enough about politics to give any academic perspective.

I am a little intrigued by this Trump business.  I know everyone is up in arms and the guy hasn’t even served a day in office yet.  I don’t want to say too much on the matter.  Ok I might end up doing just that but I’ll do my best not to.

I think the fact that Trump is a businessman might be just what the country needs.  A lot of people bring up the fact that he’s failed in many areas.  There have been bankruptcies and whatnot.  That’s fine but the guy is still a billionaire.  He seems to know what works.  He’s not like the wannabe millionaires living in Toronto going through walls to keep up appearances.  Trump is the real deal.

So perhaps this will work to his advantage.  He will do what it takes to make America and the economy prosper.  That seems great.  He doesn’t like China but he’ll work with China because it’s for a greater good.  THAT right there is the key to world peace.  Not letting the fact you may not like someone impede on progress.  I LOVE that.

Enough on Trump.  This can relate to my life too.

I have a friend who is a torrid alcoholic.  It’s literally going to kill him.  He’s burning bridges.  I love him like you wouldn’t believe.  I’ve been by his side through thick and thin.  I’ve done my best not to turn my back on him but more often than not I just end up supporting his negative behaviour.  I’m not the only one who is concerned.  His room mate is also very concerned.  His mother is very concerned.

If we all worked together we could help my friend.  But none of us like each other.  There you have it.  We all have this common interest of getting my best friend help, BUT WE DON’T LIKE EACH OTHER.  I’m not retarded.  The three of us are being manipulated and played by my friend.  I’m told they are the Antichrist.  They’re told I am the Antichrist, but to be fair it doesn’t help that I run this blog.  This site is enough to make any close-minded politically correct malcontent cry.

Regardless, if we all worked together I know we can save my dear friend.  My friend is worth saving.  But I also realize that I’m all out of moves.  That being said, myself, the room mate, and the mother aren’t going to work together  because we don’t like each other.  I’m just as guilty.  I WILL NOT ever be in the same room as those people again in my life.  I’ve been blessed/cursed with the gift of sight.  There is a difference between being afraid and smart enough to avoid bullshit.

I don’t know where to go from here.  I’m certainly not going to come out here and censor myself.  I’m not hurting anyone.  Just remember that I don’t come to you.  You’re out here looking for whatever stupid thing I am going to say next.  Well I promise you I won’t ever disappoint you.

Thanks for tuning in guys.  Love hard.


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There Will Come A Day

So it’s been brought to my attention today that people don’t like me “because of my blog”.  I know it was said to me in an effort or attempt to moderate my behaviour.  It doesn’t work that way with me.  I thrive on people not liking me.  I embrace it.  You don’t like me and for very good reason.  I don’t need to explain it to you.  You know.  And it kills you.

I’ll tell you what.  Stop emotionally abusing people that I care about to get to me.  Congratulations coward.  You can’t face me head on because you know I will fucking spank you.  So you go after the ones I love.   You take advantage of them when they’re weak.  You are a coward.  How does that feel for you?

You know what else you are?  You are some special kind of retard.  That’s right.  You are a goofy little bastard who is fucktarded enough to keep coming out here despite “not liking me”.  You know what else that makes you?  It makes you a fucking fan.  *bows*

I didn’t create your problems.  I didn’t make you marry a hag that is going to leave you and take half of everything because you’re a spineless cunt who can’t behave when you drink.  I didn’t make you an opportunistic, butt ugly, single mother who can’t sustain a healthy relationship because you’re a duplicitous, gutless bully, who needs the energy of good people to give you some feeling of worth.

Grow the fuck up and stop coming out here if it vexes you so much.  You “don’t like me” but here you are.

Sure, I’m an asshole.  I’m moody.  I’m high strung.  I’m bipolar as all hell.  But my heart is pure.  And there is no loyalty stronger than mine.  You’re just fucking pissed off because I reject you.  You couldn’t beat me and I wouldn’t let you join me.  Want the pain to go away?  Walk the fuck away.  Get out of here.  This isn’t a nightmare.  I’m fucking real.

There is a reason I don’t have anything.  I’ve lost everything.  I don’t want what can be taken away.  I got smart.  All the best things I have are inside me.  I’ve learned to be happy with nothing.  You can’t do that.  You need whatever it is whether it be money, the gorgeous wife with no personality or soul, people to leach off of.  And you know what?  You’re still not happy.  You’re a miserable piece of fucking shit who has to shit on others because you need them to feel the way you do.  Nothing else makes sense to you.

People need love.  You will do very well to remember that.  Take that pissy fucking rage and contempt within you and bury it underneath love.  Love is the most important thing in the world.  LET GO of the fucking hate.  If you feel like shit, do something to make someone else feel good.  Whether it be some poetry, prose, or just sincere compliments in general.  It takes virtually NOTHING out of you.  It takes NO effort.  Don’t worry.  It’s not gonna cost you anything.  It’s not going to make you any butt uglier than you are.  If anything it will help take some of the pain away.  PEOPLE NEED LOVE.

How fucking dare you shit on good people because you’re a miserable cunt who does the world no good.  Heed my words.  START TODAY.  You change your fucking ways or I swear there will be a reckoning.  And I won’t have to leave my bed.  I just have to write these blogs knowing that you’re reading them and seething.



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What Started Out In The Minor Key Turned Into A Major Letdown

Been watching a lot of movies lately.  Let’s talk about Suicide Squad first.  Although I thought it was ridiculous even as far as movies about super villains go, I have to say that I think Jared Leto is the best Joker we’ve seen on the big screen.  Jack Nicholson was too old, and not to mention, too Jack Nicholson.  He played a great wacko but not necessarily a great joker.  But to his credit, at least he laughed a lot.

Heath Ledger was fucking horrible, posthumous Oscar or not.  That wasn’t The Joker.  That was just a run-of-the-mill psychopath.  One that was a pretty blatant ripoff of Tom Waits if I say so myself.  Barely laughed.  Muttered in a gravelly voice like an idiot.  No sir, did not like him.

Jared Leto was great.  He looked like him.  He employed the mannerisms.  He was loud and insane.  Not muttering like a mook and asking everyone if they know how he got his scars.  Anyway, check it out and let me know what you think in the comments.  That’s what the comments section is for.

Speaking of comments, it’s been brought to my attention by the site manager that people are sending me private messages.  Some are nonsensical gibberish and others not so nonsensical.  Listen up people.  I have contact information on how to get a hold of me.  Ok I’ll just let you know here.  My email is  Fire me an email.  I promise to get back to you as soon as possible.  I do read my emails ok?  But I don’t see my comments until they land on the big screen.  A couple years back it was being abused.  I worked out a deal with the site manager because I had to stop and turn my head until the darkness goes…..

If you don’t hear back from me within a month, then you won’t hear from me at all.  It’s over.  Move on.  Our story-lines will never ever conflict again.  If I see you out in the real world I’ll be polite because it’s only the right a decent thing to do.

On that note I promise to read every word sent to me and will provide a considerate response.  I do rather enjoy email culture.  I like being able to think about what to say and be as eloquent as possible.

Alright well I’ve had all the blog fun I can handle.  If my life continues to be as uneventful as it has been then I will get back to movie talk tomorrow.


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