Thursday, October 27, 2011

An Ode.

To thine mysterious author that has dost bestoweth upon me this glorious meme that is inappropriate porn labeling:


To intertwine the fragile innocence of such Disney channel visuals with the powerfully disgusting label of a well-known porn site is simply the act of the divine; a message of great humor that could only be attributed to the Gods themselves.

Thanks, bro.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011


"Give me a means by which to exercise opinions and beliefs freely with no oppression, or give me perpetual and immutable lack of existence!"

"I had fallen asleep last night, a mixture of being exhausted and general laziness, but yeah, I had funny visions in which a few different looking people did a few things that were generally unacceptable in this day and age but should be acceptable because that's what's right."

"Something like, I dunno, eighty...eighty and some odd years ago? Seven? We'll check that."

"People are asking these really stupid questions, like 'Bro, I wanna do stuff what can I do' and I'm all like 'That's a stupid question, because you should ask this other question right here' which was to make them do stuff instead you know."

"Holy shit this leap is crazy for us, guys."

Monday, October 24, 2011

Indie, y u no srs?

I am going to ignore the fact that this meme is clearly a parody on Hispanic people and offensive to the culture I so strongly disassociate myself with.

wat is dis.

If you've read this blog in a thorough fashion, you will have almost certainly noticed that I am indeed a prodigy.


Being prodigious is a burden I shoulder every day of my life. "Oh Indie, you write so good!" "Oh Indie, teach me how to be musical like you!" "Oh Indie, please don't touch me there!"

My prodigy van.

These stresses create vast pressures on me, from which I have little respite. There has to be some time I can designate as a solace for when I'm not undoing blindness and fornicating asexually with supernatural connotations.

Or at least looking asexual.

Cookies and Landmines is the leisure of my genius. The intellectual nap of my day. The ideological scratch of my balls.

Please don't make me Google Image this.

This grants me greater focus when I apply my infallible thinking process to greater purposes.

Critical thinking.

And that is why I do not tackle issues more worthy of my astronomical intellectual fortitude.

And/or I suck at writing that shit.

Saturday, October 22, 2011


Situation #1: Friend has a new girlfriend.

Congrats on the fresh vag.!

So glad you have a new pocket for your dick!

How many drinks did it take???

She better not be black!

Situation #2: Pregnancy announcement on FB (Female)

So in how many pieces did your life shatter? :))))

Let's all pretend this has no negative consequences! *Like*

Faallllccoooon punch!

She better not be black!

Situation #3: Pregnancy announcement (Male)

This is why we have condoms, bro.

Shit you too, bro????

Hey, my GF's name is the same bro...

She better not be black!


Friday, October 21, 2011

Hi, my name is MrIndieDay.

In trying to undo what self-righteous anger I've wrought in my 20-year-blink of unbridled awesomeness, I find it a tad bit difficult to divorce the petty anger that so drunkenly careened my creativity into various social/racial/ideological poles.

Too soon?

Which means I have to settle this problem like you would with any possessive bitch who's clearly told herself she knows you better than anyone else and cries when she's told she doesn't two months after you've broken up.

Enough, Aesop.

I could

A) Come to terms, and bite my scathing tongue.


B) Find an outlet.

The former scares me. "1984" was a book that has molded me into believing that utter ideological freedom is one of our most utmost sociological ideals, and that any form of repression leads to the corruption of humanity.

And no, I don't have more words that end in "logical".

So in realizing this, C'n'L will remain alive and brazenly offensive. Albeit with a sharper focus; having minimized verbal knifefighting in my personal life, this'll be the means by which I avoid psychological implosion.

Yeah, it happened like that.

This is important to note because what may have constricted the flow of 190 proof Grade A sarcasm here has been its persistent use in real life, and my lack of control over it. Like a kid doing his first kegstand. I have profusely vomitted, and you know what, I feel better now. I think I'm ready to do it again.

And with my higher tolerance for sarcasm and its bitter, bitter aftertaste, I can let proper conscience take the wheel as designated driver when I so need it in real life.

However, this blog is my weekend frat party. And we are getting fuuuuucked up.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Unusually Spontaneous

In an effort to search for something I'd written 3 years ago, I took a trip to my ol' Myspace blog and found myself re-reading more than a few things. I'm kind of alarmed at the striking self-awareness I held at that time. I'd assumed I was operating in blanket self-denial about my problems, when in reality, I just lacked the means to act otherwise.

There's one sentence in which, tongue deeply buried in cheek as always, I suggest that I'll change someone's life. Before anyone could even fathom it, somehow, I knew I was someone worth being on this planet.

That's the flag I hoist with every waking moment. Every breath I take, every word uttered, every smile delivered, all with the intent of having impact. Of being substantial, and prolific.

This is the irony that I don't understand. While being my most persistent critic (Which I know to be the demon of any artist), I somehow was my greatest ally. Throughout all the shit people and myself had given me, I held a diligent glimmer of faith. That being a little twat was a temporary affliction, and not the ultimate prognosis.

This makes me feel good. I feel positive. Imbued with an aura of bountiful determination, self-preservation, and an utterly disgusting amount of idealistic integrity. I have a desire not only to succeed at my goal of footprinting the fuck out of this planet, but to make sure it's a more positive place in my wake.

i.e. I'm 20.

At the same time, however, I wonder how the operation of this machine works. For years, and featured prominently on this blog, I'd ran on anger. Not merely for creativity, but for social renown and charm as well. I'm to avoid this, and today was the first day in actualizing this. And it felt fantastic.

I feel trepidation departing the warmth of caustic retort and double-edged bravado. I suppose it doesn't have to be entirely eliminated. Hitler jokes and unabashed questioning of female intelligence have a bit of a charm when someone sweet is saying it.

A bit.

But it feels about right. This, while having all the (lack of) style of a Peace Corp. quota, does not feel generic. More over, to suggest these as "ideals" would be to deny the very real impact I've already made these past several months. I know that if I died tomorrow, I can say I'd changed a few things 'round here.

I'm happy.

Shit this blog is gonna suck now.