Boh3m3ian Brainpoops

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The gun is not in your hands… it’s in mine.

Published

on December 2, 2007

. 17 Comments

Every now and again I think about youtube-icide. Deleting my youtube account, my little fucking myspace and my website and starting from scratch, if at all. There’s some freedom in that, I think… but there’s so much there that holds me back from taking action.

Love the life you choose… Someone I take seriously said that once, I think. Even if I’m wrong, I feel like that advice is sound enough to keep me from doing such a drastic act.

I look at the heroes I hold in high regard and see such determination in them. A stubborn hardheadedness that refuses to relent, regardless of the obstacles in front of them. Continuing forward in spite of almost certain failure and negative consequence might be seen as courage… and I hope some day I might be courageous in someone’s mind.

Ahhhhhh Dating (Numero Dos)

Published

boh3m3

on November 4, 2007

in Random Thoughts

. 20 Comments

I’ve been thinking a lot about the dating world again and why I have such a love/hate relationship with relationships and love. Forgive me again for popping a squat on the server here and pinching out another entry. I guess when my nose is plugged up my mind opens a bit more… For in that snot of sickness, what dreams may come?

I suppose my beef with dating is carved from the first stages of attraction and how historically awkward the feeling is for me. Knowing that you are drawn to a person without knowing they feel the same is on par with walking across fluorescent bulbs barefoot with a lit firecracker in your teeth and ice cubes up your bum. At least for me, that is… but I’ve always been one to try and throw emotion into metaphor. My bad.

But then again that may be the sickly sweet feeling that makes finally knowing that much more intense. There’s always a point where the tension becomes too much to bear. When the electricity [ac or dc?] between the people becomes so tangible you imagine that if you turned off the lights at that moment, perhaps the two of you would look like a Jacob’s Ladder in a mad scientist’s bathroom. In that make-or-break moment, it’s all on the line, emotionally, and the stakes are high. Attraction is an all or nothing game, it seems. If no, spend the rest of the week moping about wondering whether it was worth it to try. If yes, well… put some cash into glow in the dark condoms and chick-flick tickets.

Man what a moment, though! I think its those successful moments that make love-junkies out of us all. When in that little instant you go from flighty possibility to absolute happenings, it’s like a damn dam breaking down and flooding a small town of 40, leaving 15 dead and 20 injured. The other 5 were out playing with explosives, authorities say.

When your lips meet for the first time [and you all know what I'm talking about here], you can’t kiss hard enough to express your feelings. It ends up making you feel like you’re trying to devour each other, really… and at that point in time you are so overwhelmed you don’t see just how stupid you must look slobbering on each other and making little lovenoises. It’s pretty comical when you think about it.

If I had to nail down my feelings about dating to a wall for inspection, I think that after sweating under the hotlamps they would finally give up the goods and tell me it’s the itching before the sneeze that gets me. I can’t stand all the little games before you are definitely with that person. I mean quit dangling the carrot, for fuck’s sake… that ass needs feedin.

Wow that last sentence didn’t come out quite the way I wanted it too… I just can’t stop laughing about it though. That’s as good of an ender as I’ll ever be able to make in this state I think.

Be chill, kids.

Love, Your Outbreak Monkey

Published

boh3m3

on November 4, 2007

in Uncategorized

. 5 Comments

You know that bit in Beetlejuice when the two lead characters ask Mr. Juice if he’s qualified? When all you see is him from behind and those tentacle things burst from his head? I feel like that right about now… only with snot tentacles… and they aren’t even prehensile! As gross as it may be, I think prehensile snot tentacles would be a huge step up from where I’m at right now. I mean at the very minimum they could probably hold a cigarette for me or help me shave. That might be sweet in a disease-ridden mucous kind of way.

There’s a whole crapload of crap I need to unload on you guys, so strap in for the long haul… let’s see if my fingers work more efficiently than my immune system.

Continue reading ‘Love, Your Outbreak Monkey’

Adventures in ‘Bama

Published

boh3m3

on September 10, 2007

in Uncategorized

. 8 Comments

[Please pardon my spelling errors. I suck at life]
The saying goes “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.” There are tons of variations, though. You may know it as “You love most what you don’t have”, or perhaps “beer tastes best when you can’t find a six pack before sunday in a dry county.” It all depends on the region I suppose.

My stepdad retired from the National Guard this weekend, and with a week’s notice and a very pricey ticket I was on my way. Four days in the south might do me some good, I thought. And you know what? It kind of has.

I could go into the normal shebang about how airport security sucks and how pricey even the most basic items are, but it would be nothing you haven’t heard before. I can tell you that a breakfast sandwich composed of instant eggs and a teaspoon of sausage at Silvio DiSalvatores Sausage Empire costs approximately 8 dollars by itself and tastes of the assness. Been there. Done that.

In fact the only seemingly unique part of my trip to the south was the particular bouquet emenating from the fat[ter] guy sitting next to me. It was a combination of urine, root beer, and old spice. To my best estimation, he probably passed out in a puddle of maple syrup, pissed himself, and then in a rush to get on the flight doused himself in old spice [I'm told it's called an italian shower].

But I arrived back in Bama with little delay to meet the bit of family that had assembled for the ceremony. It was nice to see my dear old mum again. I have nothing but apreciation for a parent who knows enough about her son to bring a bottle of Crown to the hotel. We talked, we drank, we ate cruddy food. It was pretty nice.

All this took place in a little town near Birmingham called Gadsden. Gadsden looks like it was built within the last five years and had people imported in to make it look lived in. All of the buildings had that popcorn stucco look so common these days. I had half hoped the Wal Mart would be made of wood, but my dreams were dashed against the giant stuccomonster looming across from the hotel.

The ceremony was everything one would expect in a military event. Sharp, to the point, and delayed. I was impressed, however, by the shadowbox they made for my stepfather. It’s a gorgeous case made out of wood and glass with a blue velvet [insert Dennis Hopper joke here] backing that holds all of the medals and ribbons he has recieved in the past 20+ years or so of service. It was purty.

But being back in the south reminded me why I wanted to leave so much. This, for once, is not a jab at the people but more the vibe of the cities I went through. As friendly as southerners are in general, there doesn’t seem to be much drive there. Or perhaps that’s something that I see in myself because of how I feel here. I’ve always been one to push forward in pursuit of progress. I just dont feel that way down here. My motivation gets stuck in the mud, so to speak.

But for the moment, I’m going to kick back, sip sweet tea, and bullshit with locals about that damned Brittany Spears. It’s rather nice.

Brutal Honesty With Boh3m3

Published

boh3m3

on September 5, 2007

in Rants

. 9 Comments

I read a long ass article about “Radical Honesty” today [ Here], and thought it might be good to give my honest thoughts about some of the people lighting up the tubes nowadays.

At the top of the charts today is Chris Crocker, the self-appointed Queen of Ghetto, with his personal video masterpiece “Eat My Cornhole” currently at 300,000+ views. Queen of the Ghetto linked to VioletKitty and the Joker??

For those of you who wish to stay on this page, a brief synopsis: Kathy Lee Gifford doesn’t care that you hate her, and wants to illustrate this by inviting you to tongue her anus.

Seriously, I have no qualms with Chris, but I can’t help but picture him as some kind of guest host on the View or perhaps Good Morning America. Maybe it’s the hair… perhaps the dead eyes… But without a doubt it’s the Colgate smile that seems to have been honed by years of getting second place in beauty pageants.

His videos can be seen at best as a somewhat clever satire on social views and morays, and at worst a grab for attention and a projection of sincerely skewed ideas. He posts 5 videos daily, so it seems that he is either not gainfully employed, or perhaps his employment requires dolling up and smiling in the face of adversity. Probably not a superhero.

Just a divider.

Next up is sxephil. I’m almost at a loss here because my beef with him is more technical than anything else. I can’t stand his videos mainly because it’s scripted and his method of delivery comes off as a sports broadcaster who is better than you. He’s one of the few youtubers who has recently enjoyed a growth spurt of views not by content, but by careful choosing of thumbnails.

Like any other [and it seems EVERY other] red blooded horny interweb-dude, I like boobies. Kudos to Phil for capitalizing on this very important swing factor in viewing videos. The clincher here is that unfortunately for him, he is a youtube partner and subject to increased scrutiny by way of copyright.

WHAT YOU SAY?
I’m talking about photos. Photos that he did a little Google image search on and then used without permission of the original photographers. You know, the guys who own the copyright? Phil, if you’re reading this: be warned, photos are people too. You could just as easily have your videos taken down because of a photograph as you can have them removed because of music or video clips. And as a partner, I’m more than sure daddy Google isn’t going to be thrilled with paying you to include copyrighted material.

“But boh3m3! You just used HIS picture without permission!”, you say… Yes. Yes I did. But I don’t have banner ads on this page. Hence, I’m not directly making money through the use of said content ON this page. That doesn’t make it OK, but aside from him throwing a bitchfit and telling me to take it down, there is little risk or reason to ask me to remove it.

Just a divider.

Ugh… Like the scourge of humanity carrying the same surname, Perez Hilton has decided to blow his green and pink wad of self on youtube and promote it via his digi-rag perezhilton.com

I had ~~a chance~~ to meet the rotund reveler of fashion review while working on a video with Lisa Donovan. Verdict? As fake as a model of a sculpture of silicon breasts in Second Life. He’s more phony than AT&T [HAH! GET IT? OMGLULZ]

Can someone tell me why this overweight Joker wannabe sporting a bruno mustache isn’t laughed into oblivion because he’s nitpicking other people’s fashion choices? Ignoring his personality flaws and a laugh that seems to have been spawned from Fran Drescher’s anus, the only merit I can see in his existence or notability is that no other human being in recent history has been quite as contradictory or hypocritical combined with piñata-like fashion choices and a desire to be “known for being known.”

Perez also likes finger painting and men’s penises. End.

Top 10 Ways to Deal with Youtube Drama

Published

boh3m3

on August 13, 2007

in Uncategorized

. 9 Comments

10. Flail your arms about while recording and scream “IT’S NOT MY FAULT!!! IT’S NEVER MY FAULT I AM NEVER WROOOONG!”

9. Pass the blame to the next person in line.

8. Get Drama reaaally drunk and insist it hit on the fat chick at the bar.

7. Convert to Judaism.

6. Run.

5. Assert that the person making accusations is Republican.

4. Hold a press release in your bedroom directed at inanimate objects with a fork microphone [note, do not attempt #6 while holding fork]

3. Wake drama up in the middle of the night and say the world is on fire. Urinate out of open window. Assure drama that everything will be alright.

2. Mope.

1. Do nothing. Drama is drama and it only gets worse.

How to kill a video community

Published

boh3m3

on August 1, 2007

in Rants

. 29 Comments

While Youtube may not be pushing up daisies it’s definitely digging a hole for it’s community.

Maybe I’m romanticizing the way I saw YT when I first arrived, but goddamn it seems like it’s gone a bit downhill with it’s “rise to power.” A year ago I was amazed at vloggers… At these ordinary Joes and Janes that could sit down and riff about something and start some dialog with complete strangers across the globe. We could do the same with chatting and forums, of course, but lending a face and seeing how people said what was on their mind was interesting to me. These intricate little dramas and connections between everyday people making videos online were precious slices of humanity, lulzy or not. I spent a pretty sizable chunk of time going from one connected video to the next and seeing where I ended up usually an hour or so later. One video talking about the latest celebrity gossip might lead a watcher [through connected videos] all the way to pirates in Beijing or some goth public access recording.

Continue reading ‘How to kill a video community’

Potterphilia

Published

boh3m3

on July 21, 2007

in Rants

. 30 Comments

Ok. I admit everything.

One Christmas not so long ago I was given the first Harry Potter book which, after a polite “thank you auntie-whoever-you-are”, I refused to so much as look at for the next few months. ~~Fortunately… Unfortunately…~~ Some time later I decided to give it a once over.

And from then on I was hooked.

Now I can’t say I fell full force into the abyss-like state of slobbering Potter fan-boy-ism, but I definitely enjoyed the books and could almost understand why kids and adults alike turned into drooling literary fiends at the release of each subsequent book. What confuses me still is the lengths to which fans will go to get their ocular injection of Rowling’s Potterjuice.

I’m a little ashamed to admit that I went to the release “party” for Deathly Hallows, if for no other reason than my metaphorical rape of the gibbering masses waiting outside the Borders off of Torrance Blvd. If you’re reading that last sentence more than once, you’re likely not alone. Let me explain…

No? You don’t want an explanation? Well fuck off! I don’t see another person writing on this page yet, so you’ll just have to suffer.

Continue reading ‘Potterphilia’