Quitting Smoking Kicks Ass!!!!

It's all to rarely that we come across the truly transformative written word. I mean sure, you're reading this on goodreads so I'm sure you probably read at least a book an hour right? But c'mon when's the last time one changed not only your perspective but actually made you change a physical habit? Unless you've been sneaking a peek at he Williams Sonoma Cookbook, I'll gamble not many. Well friends, it's your red letter, extra A+ lucky day! For The Easy Way to Stop Smoking: Join the Millions Who Have Become Nonsmokers Using the Easyway Method is indeed such a book. I know you're probably saying "Golly Gosh Steve, I've thought about quitting smoking but frankly even the contemplation is enough to accelerate the current psychological downspin I'm enduring that is typified by the unending sound of broken glass spinning in a centrifuge within a space time bubble where every word I hear sounds interlaced with an eternal shriek that is being distorted in an envelope of feedback thhat is both auditory and physically painful!" To which I'd like to respond in much the same way that D!r. Carr does which is essentially "don't stress man! it's going to be ok!!"

It's pretty easy to discern at this point why so many people believe Dr. Carr is a genius.

But tragically the most genius part of Dr. Carr's method has been tragically overlooked. Quitting smoking isn't just easy, it's a f**king blast. It's such a blast as a matter of fact, that I've decided to start integrating it as often as possible into my life (which explains how I went from half a pack to half a carton a day thanks to Dr. Carr's advice). Before? Sure I'd quit occassionally, I think the longest was about 2 or 3 years. Fortunately Dr. Carr has enlightened me to the dizzying possibilities that become available once you realize you can quit 20 TIMES A DAY (& that's just if you're a pack *<--pussy!*a day smoker!). Now that I've come to realize how religiously rapturous quitting smoking can be I've really started ratcheting up work on great times to quit...obviously this list is born of the deepest most private areas of myself, but goshdarnit! If you can't write about your deepest, most private, secret aspects on the internet then why else would Al Gore invent it? (duh!)

So without further ado...Here's Steves (still a work in progress of great times to quit smoking) 1.During Sex

2.While Eating

3.During baptisms

4.When visiting smoking friends (who obviously never discovered the raptuorous joys of quitting) in the hospital who are receiving O2.

Curiously, with the possible exception of #4 this corresponds pretty neatly with great times to start again (Because everyone loves a fresh beginning & nobody likes a quitter). "Golly Gosh Steve! You've sold me on this book! I know it sounds toooooo good to be true, but are there any other advantages to the EasyWay method?" I'm so glad you asked! The main point that sold me? Lemmee give a couple of scenarios.

Scenario 1:You haven't told anyone that you're quitting & you're acting like an asshole. "Jeepers man, maybe you'd lower that skyrocketing blood pressure of yours & STOP ACTING LIKE AN ASSHOLE if you'd just quit smoking...and don't you dare put that out on little Mikey!"

Scenario 2: You've announced to everyone in the Tri-State area that you're quitting smoking & you're acting like an asshole. "Gosh honey, I know you're trying really hard on this & I've heard it can be really challenging..why don't you step outside, grab a smoke, come back in & I'll f**k your brains out?" I don't think there's any question that for todays smoker? There's no other way that makes sense other than The Easy Way to Stop Smoking: Join the Millions Who Have Become Nonsmokers Using the Easyway Method. oh? You're a non-smoker and you want to read this bad boy? Well then you better start because you're gonna find out that quitting smoking....KICKS ASS!!!

Sweater Rockets KICK ASS!!!

I've been fortunate enough to write for an extremely diverse audience. Chronic masturbators, die hard music fans, slackers, whatever crawled up your vagina and died, retards, and much like me you may be wondering what it is that draws all of these folks together....

Wonder no longer! It's that ALL of them know
SWEATER ROCKETS KICK ASS!!

I know, I know you're probably saying to yourself "But Steeeeeevvve, I'm a Doctor/Lawyer/Baker/Tailor and I know lots of reeeeeeeeeeallly important things. Why I can cure cancer, save you from incarceration, make delicious pies, or sew beautiful coats of many colors."

and I'm sure knowing all that stuff's really cool. But you want to talk about what's important? Let's do a little survey, I'm going to ask the little fellow in the photo a few questions let's see how HE responds!!

Kickass Interviewer: Hey little fella! How's it going? Mind if I ask you a few questions?
Kickass Baby: ...
Kickass Interviewer: Sweet! Hey did you know that you might get cancer?
Kickass Baby: ...
Kickass Interviewer: Or that you might do something bad and go to jail?
Kickass Baby: ...
Kickass Baby: Wanna cruise out for some pie and coffee?
Kickass Baby:...
Kickass Interviewer: Did you know you're naked?
Kickass Baby:...
Kickass Interviewer: Hey how about moving on over and letting Uncle Kickass spend some sweet sweet time with those boobs?
Kickass Baby: WAAIIGH!! Fuck You Uncle Kickass! Verily forsooth I speak y'all best getting on out of here before I this light yonder breaks my little foot up your ass Uncle Kickass!!
Kickass Interviewer: It was a %$^ing question! Jeez! OW!! Mellow out little man! Just move ove..OW!! OK I get the jist! I'm OWOWOW!!"

That's right, you think that little guy's wondering about the dichotomy between particle physics and quantum mechanics? NO WAY. He's wondering how long you're going to be hassling him with this whole clean diaper biz and how long it is until he can go back to town on those sweet mamarian mamaloos (a sound question which I've asked often myself).

You won't find me arguing with that little scholar, know why?

Because sweater rockets KICK ASS!!!

Now, move over buddy! I call dibs!

Retarded People Kick Ass!!

"As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being."
By: Carl Jung

I love that quote from Jung. It's beautiful, charming, and deeply resonant with all the secret words we know in our hearts to be true but that we will never find the words to say.

...and like most quotes from Jung it can be reassembled without losing sight of the fundamental tenets which make it true. Let's play a little game of William S. Burroughs cut up theory here Kickasstiger-teers, where we presume that the purpose of merely being kindles a light in the darkness of human existence. Bit of a game-changer isn't it? It's all too easy to discount the light of camraderie we shine into the dark solitude of human existence by merely being. But retarded people preclude all that & how..?

I can't tell you how many "tard anecdotes" came up while I was preparing this post, but there's one that's an old favorite of mine so here goes...

Back when I was in High School, there was this one guy who for the sake of anonymity I'm going to refer to as "Julius Bonagger". Man, ol' Julius was the King of The Tards (we had a teachable mentally retarded program at my school). He had a leather jacket, wore his hair greased back 50's style, and had the biggest Elvis belt buckle I've ever seen. Everywhere, Julius went the tard ladies (who from what I hear totally put out) would fawn over him & lesser tards would cower meekly in the path of his mighty (at 15 I'd say ol' Julius was tipping the scales at a husky 250 lbs) oncoming stride. But there was one person who Julius would always take time to greet when walking down the hall and that was my friend Bubba who Julius would always grab by the shoulder, look at solemnly and say "You smell nice". Bubba was a frail punk rock lad, who boasted a predeliction for drug abuse and a psychologically unbalanced girlfriend amidst his treasury of earthly posessions. Bubba was fortunate to have all those things but I could tell that Julius making time for him out of his day really put it all in perspective when I witnessed this scene:

Julius was walking down the hall lolling his head & didn't see Bubba sneaking up behind him. Bubba could be pretty quiet for a gangly white kid carrying a skateboard, and thus Julius was totally unprepared for when Bubba placed his hand on his shoulder from behind, spun him around and spoke these words:

"Hey Julius, you smell nice man. You smell nice."
If one of those sweet tard ladies had shown up naked on her hands and knees imploring Julius to fill her with tard seed it wouldn't have come close to filling him with the rapture that broke across his face as he hugged Bubba & yelled "THANKS MAN!! THANKS!!!"

Tragically Bubba was not as strong as Julius and it did take several moments for him to disengage. But there's a lot of lessons I think we can learn from the tale of Julius & Bubba.

1. That while we may operate in our day believing that we are operating at a higher level of cognition than our fellows, it must be noted that if we are to presume that the purpose of being is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being, that Bubba didn't actually perform an act of genius until he was willing to do something retarded.

2. Tard ladies totally put out.

3. & last but not least..............

RETARDED PEOPLE KICK ASS!!!!!

What crawled up your vagina and died kicks ass!!

Let's be honest, "what crawled up your vagina and died" is one of the greatest phrases ever written. Functioning not only as a somewhat visceral piece of condemnation, it's beauty lies within the fact that it's so much more than that. It's a mystery ("no really, for reals, what was it?"), it's a horror story ("Do you dear reader dare to enter the tortuous depths and discover what crawled up your vagina and died?")But most importantly.... 

It's sweet. Not to ruin anyone's day, but unless you're a regular reader of Kickass Tiger, you're going to die someday. It's a cruel twist that we're given a certain degree of volition to how we live our lives, but not nearly as much as to how they're going to end. Walking down the street K-ZAP!! Lightning!! Sitting down for a picnic AIIGH!!! Bear Mauling!! Getting ready for a little 'special time' with that 'special someone' K-ZAP! AIIGH!! MEIN GOTT EN HIMMEL!! That's right man, Lightning Bear Mauling Blitzkrieg!!! (<---this totally happens all the time and no one is doing anything about it!). Yet imagine, on the final day of your life if you could shrink down, return from whence you came, and in the warm oceanic embrace of the womb gently return to the components from which you were made. 

Now don't get me wrong, I know a lot of you are not looking at my imagery of little people crawling back into vaginas to expire with affection "Umm, excuse me Martha you seem to have something crawling up your leg" "Oh that's just David" "He's going to crawl into your vagina isn't he?" "Well that is the natural way of things honey" "He's going to die in there isn't he?" "It's what he wanted" "Does that mean we're not going to have sex later?"

Admittedly, it's an idea that needs some work. But I don't think there's any questioning that whatever crawled up your vagina and died...KICKS ASS!!!!!

Slacking Off Kicks Ass!!

As you've probably noticed loyal blog readers, its been a little while since my last post. Why? you ask? How could such an unforseen circumstance take place? I'll tell y'all why, it's because I've been slacking off & not too surprisingly...it kicks ass!! Why? Because I'm about to prove to y'all that slacking off (even more so than military intervention, or economic manipulation) is what's really key to total and utter GALACTIC DOMINION.

Check it out, sure there's a bajillion wannabe totalitarian warlords out there duking it out for who's gonna be king of the castle and all that..but in a word, they're fools. Let's take a look at your average human life span 80 yrs if you're LUCKY, everything beyond that? Gravy. So why the hell do you want to be wasting your time struggling for an illusory reward that you're not going to get to take with you? Let's focus on the important things, chilling with those you love, reading, drinking, eating good food, or just hanging out letting the wheels spin. These are the things that mark true freedom. The time you spend at work? Or competing against a bunch of other fools who're nothing more than rats running the labyrinth? You might as well print your remaining time on dollar bills and set it on fire.

But that's what it really comes down to isn't it? I know a brilliant man, who once said "The key to what drives economic congress is laziness" his theory is that in order to get ahead in a professional setting, you need to find out what your immediate boss most hates doing & do it for him. He'll be happy because he gets to slack off, and as a reward he'll grant you more leeway to slack off since you're performing the task he so wants to avoid, best of all, he'll hire someone else to take over the work that YOU don't want to do in order to make sure he can keep on slacking off! It's brilliant!!

Don't get me wrong, I know there's some busybees out there reading this who're saying "But Steve, I heart my job utterly & I can't begin to describe the degree of personal fulfillment I receive from it!!" Hey man, that's cool. But here's the gig yo. If you're that into what you're doing then by all means keep on keepin' on. What I'm trying to illustrate is that it's in those moments when we're slacking off that at that time the universe is your oyster. You are at that moment truly free, sure you can make a decision on a course of action but for that one rare glimmering moment the realm of possibility is truly yours. Or as I like to inform people "That's right, motherf**ker. I'm Steve Mort & I can do anything". The freedom lies in whether or not I choose to and within that terrible truth lies the paradox of time, personal freedom & the terrifying liberating power of nothingness.

So I guess at this point it's "Hey stop wasting your time reading my blog & get back to work!!" or "Keep on, Keepin' on ya big slacker!" Either way I can only hope that you always feel free to...

KICK ASS!!!

Almost Eating Shit Kicks Ass!!

Close your eyes for a moment dear reader (psyche! you can't close your eyes & read unless you've got crazy plastic transparent eyelids or extra eyeballs on the end of your fingertips, but I'll save that for another post) & imagine this scene. You're walking down the street, it's sunshiney out, the birds are singing, and you're feeling such a rare moment of complete and total bliss that you're caught totally unaware when a crack in the sidewalk interrupts your stride and down you go. Ow! Bummer!! Not only did you fall in front of a bunch of people, but as you fell you snapped your ankle, tried to save yourself by grabbing onto a baby carriage, collapsed anyways bringing the carriage down with you, hurling the tiny infant inside into the path of oncoming traffic, where it was immediately decimated by a semi, and now everyone's looking at you like an assh*le, but alas with your broken ankle you've no chance of making a speedy getaway!

Talk about embarrassing!!

But imagine things had gone this way. Sure you trip, but manage to catch your balance. It's a sweet thrill, the risk of danger, the sweet relief of poking risk in the booty & walking away unscathed. But there's more to it than that, I'd argue that the closer you come to eating sh*t the more sweet it is. We've all almost died numerous times from the barely avoided car crash, the slipping on the precipice of danger, or any one of a host of other dangers that are only escaped through a juxtaposition of accelerated thought/action and the devil's own luck. There's really only one drawback to the experience, and that's when you try to tell your friends about how close to oblivion you walked and they just can't get it.

But essentially that's the solitary beauty of almost eating sh*t. It's as cool as coolness gets, You almost died, YOU escaped danger & peril, YOU trimuphed over odds that were quickly stacked against you without warning, and only YOU can truly appreciate the poignance of the experience. Sure, you can talk about it all you want but really no one else will ever really get it, the terror, the exhiliartion...?

It's like having a secret affair with the world, and it totally kicks ass!!

RatatatJimiHendrixQuadrophenia Kicks Ass!!!

I don't care if you're the most tone deaf, non-rhythmic, soul hatin', easy listenin' mother f**ker on the planet, even you have a secret soundtrack (and how kick ass is that?). I'll never forget the magical moments when I discovered my own secret soundtracks, from when I stole my sister's copy of the Quadrophenia soundtrack (which if its any consolation sis, I've had to buy several more times), to riding my bicycle under the influence of powerful hallucinogens (Shit Jimi! You ARE a Voodoo Child!!), to having to pull over my car the first time I heard Ratatat (I was sober in case anyone's wondering! **This was not an instance of having to use my patented 'Too drunk to walk, better drive' rule**). Let it be known that it's not only the chemically augmented and schizophrenically challenged who have the good fortune to hear the sounds and voices that create the sonic background for our passages! Raise your fists and stomp your feet on our crusade to find the theme music to the made for TV docudrama of our days!! Don't be shy! If you think that your friends need the Violent Femmes playing the background, then share the joy! If the ladies don't know what kind of deep, dark, sensitive mofo you are, then share, I say share, the Elliott Smith!! And the next time you hear some sweet sounds that you realize have been playing silently in the back of your mind, you stop right there, you stop right there and you shout to the heavens!!!

"That Kicks Ass!!!!!!!!"