Tuesday, October 13, 2015

On Depression, Drinking, and Suicide

Hi, my name's Keith. I have severe depression and anxiety. I'm an alcoholic. I tried to kill myself a few weeks ago.

There. Just like ripping off a band-aid. Hell of a return to the Weekly, huh? Hell of a way to tell your friends something like this...

Well, this is what I got, and this is what I'm going with.

I'm just kind of spit-balling here... my hands are a little shakey, so forgive me if I ramble, or get a little tough to read. I'm not really sure where to start, other than how I feel... I feel like shit. I've felt like shit for a long time. I worry about everything. There are constantly a pack of butterflies in my stomach, and I'm grinding my teeth down as we speak. When I'm not worrying I'm depressed. I cry for no reason. I think about off-switches... you can guess what that means. I can joke, and be funny, and have fun, but it's fleeting. To help with this, I get drunk. Not just a little drunk... a lot drunk. It makes me happy, until it stops making me happy. Then I wake up depressed, and guilty and we start the whole thing over again.

Now everybody knows what that's like. It may sound like I'm simplifying, but when you boil it down, it's a pretty simple thing. I could try to make it a little more complicated and deep, but then I'd just focus on trivial details, and I'd get bogged down.

Now we can move on to the positives. I'm in recovery. I'm on meds. I haven't had a drink since Sept. 23rd. Just recently I got some news that put me back down a little, but I'm doing what I can to get back up. Maybe that's why I'm writing this. Who's to say?

I'm not thrilled about total strangers being able to read this, but that's life. I can't complain about feeling isolated when I've got a whole series of tubes out there to reach through. So, here you go. I love you all. Even the people I don't. I'm gonna get better, and I'm gonna stick around.

Hugs and kisses,


Saturday, September 8, 2012

BATTLESHIP, or why I gouged my brain out.

I just watched Peter Berg's Battleship.  You know, the movie based on the Battleship board game that everybody was clamoring for... I'm just gonna be real up front about this:  FUCK THIS MOVIE!!!  No, seriously, FUCK THIS MOVIE!!!

OK, now that's out of the way, let me say I'm not one of those people who hates big summer movies.  In fact, I'm the opposite.  I love the big summer movies, where shit blows up and then more shit blows up.  Transformers?  Fuckin' loved 'em.  The Expendables?  Sign me up.  That should tell you what you need to know.  So, what was it that pissed me off so much about this movie?  Well, I'll get right to it.

1.  Every single human being in this film is annoying.  The only reason I didn't like the Aliens more is that they're big fucking pussies.  This movie made me want the Aliens to kill every single person that I saw, and the reason I hate the Aliens is because they don't do that.  But, let's narrow it down to the main character.  Stone Hopper... that's right, he's named Stone Hopper.  Nobody, and I mean nobody, would give their kid such an absolutely retarded name.  So, that's strike one.  Strike two is that he's as stupid as his name.  He's that annoying, moronic side-kick to the villain in a good movie that gets killed real early because he's so stupid.  Not this movie, though.  This movie makes him the main character, and we have to watch his stupidity for what feels like seven hours, but is actually more like two.  Seriously, who thinks stealing a chicken burrito will win over a smoking hot chick?  Oh, wait, in this movie that's something that would really happen, because the girl falls for him because of it, the dumb twat.  Also, Stone Hopper has a stupid fucking face, and we have to look at it in way too many slow motion close-ups.  Seriously, this fucking guy's go-to face is what a Gorilla must look like when he's trying to figure out how to boot up a Playstation.

2.  None of it makes any sense.  None of it.  First of all, some dipshit scientists decide to fire up a satellite to get ahold of some Aliens, and right off the bat everyone's all 'this is a bad idea.'  Seriously, why the fuck are you contacting the Aliens if you're so shit-in-your-pants scared they might come visit?  Then, when they get here, you immediately start trying to blow the fuck out of them, and foil them at every turn.  The Aliens want to communicate with their home planet, why not try to help them?  Why not see if they're friendly?  Why immediately treat them like the bad guys?  I don't get why everyone is so afraid of these stupid Aliens, either.  They suck.  First of all, they fuck up their landing by crashing into a satellite, because they're such great pilots... then they get beaten by fucking BATTLESHIPS.  That's right, battleships.  Not cruise missiles, or earth diseases, or the combined powers of Captain Planet.  No, a rickety ass battleship completely foils their plan... oh wait... it doesn't.  We stopped them from communicating with their home planet, so that solves everything, right?  Except for the fact that THEY KNEW WHERE THE FUCK WE WERE ALL ALONG!!!  You don't think the head honchos back on planet piss won't send another group of ships along?

3.  It's a slap in the face to the military.  This movie makes a point of having actual soldiers playing different roles.  That's cool and all, but I really can't believe that none of them called bullshit on all the rampant military bullshit that goes on in this movie.  First of all, and relating to point number one, the main character is a complete fucktard who every single person in the movie makes a point call a fucktard at some point, to his face.  When we first see him, he's getting tazed by the police for being a fucktard.  Cut to:  He's now an officer in the Navy.  See, he wasn't an officer in the navy already when he's tazed... apparently that's the punishment for breaking the law in Hawaii.  It sends the message that when you've fucked your life up completely, your only option is to become an officer in the Navy.  If I were an officer in the Navy, I'd be like, 'Hey, fuck you, Pete Berg.'

On this same point, it really makes the military look incompetent.  They come up against this awesome looking Alien ship, and their first reaction is to shoot at it.  I really hope this isn't the military's actual protocol, because if it is, then I bet there are a lot of awkward moments when they meet somebody new.

4.  The final, and most important, point.  This movie is a waste.  It's a waste of money.  It's a waste of talent.  It's a waste of resources.  It's a waste of time.  I got to see the sets that were built for this movie first hand, and it was incredible the effort and money that was spent.  But, for what?  From script to screen, everything about this movie is a waste.  The production budget was something like $250 million.  That's million with an M.  That's ten $25 million movies.  They could have found ten good scripts, and I guarantee you they'd have gotten a much better return on the investment.  And that's the major problem with Hollywood today.  The special effects, sets, and stunts in this movie are top notch, but you need more than that.  Why did The Avengers, and The Dark Knight Rises make a billion dollars each?  Because they had good scripts, and studio heads who know that it takes more than a massive budget to make a successful movie.  They were movies that people wanted, and made the point to be more than hollow special effects.  Nobody wanted this movie to begin with, and  nobody wants it now that the money's spent, and the time's been wasted.  Fuck this movie.   

Anyway, that ends my rant.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012


I was reading the comments on a Jezebel article this morning (yes, I read Jezebel, get over it) about how some lady tweeted a bunch of snarky comments about a guy hitting on her on an airplane, and how to react when someone is communicating to you in a way you don’t like.  Now, I have no real opinion about the actual story, because I don’t give a shit about the people involved.  What I found to be hilarious and infuriating was a back and forth a couple of people had.

This girl relayed a story about how she pissed some guy on a moped off, and he pulled up and started cussing and calling her names - 

Let’s pause a minute to think of an angry man on a moped.  In my imagination, he’s wearing a little leather cut, and a Hello Kitty helmet with a spike.

Moving on, anyway, this girl was a little butthurt, and naturally so.  I mean, nobody wants to be told where to stick it by a guy on a moped.  Where I start to scratch my head is the response to the lady’s story:

Maybe he had a really bad day, maybe he has mental health issues. I'm sorry you had to go through that, but a lot of times, people aren't douches, just their circumstances are.

I love the reasons this person gives for why moped-Ed was angry.  Maybe he had a bad day or mental health issues.  Maybe he has a quota for people to cuss at.  Maybe he was possessed by the demon Ba’al like in that shitty Anthony Hopkins movie. Or...Maybe...just maybe, SHE WASN’T PAYING ATTENTION AND DID SOMETHING TO PISS HIM OFF!!!  I love how it has to be all these outlandish scenarios, instead of the most obvious one: that this lady is probably a shit driver, and nearly ran him over or something like that.  Of course, I’m not saying that all women are shit drivers, but the one’s who get yelled about by outlaw moped riders probably are. 

Now, on to the second part, “I’m sorry you had to go through that...”  Seriously?  Had to go through what?  Getting yelled at?  Having to look at someone with so little dignity that they’ll ride a moped?  I don’t see what this lady went through.  She got told to ‘fuck off’ in traffic.  There are some places where that’s how they say ‘hi’ while driving.  I’ve been told to ‘fuck off’ multiple times while driving, and have told as many people the same thing myself.  This is America, and sometimes people are bad drivers and should fuck off. 

That’s the real issue I have with this.  There seems to be an epidemic of people being babies about being told something, and other’s who are quick to pet their heads and say, ‘I’m sorry you had to go through that.’  ‘Poor babies.  No one should ever be cussed at or called names.  That’s the worst thing that could happen to anyone.’  Bullshit.  How’s about you tell the guy on the moped to go fuck himself, and go home and get in a tickle fight with your roommate.  Or, how’s about you run his ass over.  Or, better yet, think back to how you probably cut him off, or chocked your brakes, or any number of things shit drivers do, and promise to not do it again. 

‘No one should have to go through that...’  Give me a break.  Getting bitched at isn’t ‘going through an ordeal.’  An ordeal would be if there were ten guys on mopeds, and they kidnapped this girl and forced her to mule drugs across state lines.  An ordeal would be her running some dude on a moped over because she can’t drive.  No, this is just getting bitched at.  It’s a part of life.

Anyway, that’s all.  Sorry you had to go through it.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

2009, A year of the metal

Hey all, long time no see.

OK, so as most of you know, I love metal. I don't hate on other types of music, I just love metal. It's my jams. I do my best to convince my peeps that they should love metal as well, but still, only, like, a couple of my friends are fellow metal heads. I mean, I love my friends dearly, but seriously guys...be a little cooler. At least pretend every now and again.

Anyways, I've been super-stoked that this year has had a ton of super-badass metal releases, so here, I'll try to convince you to love metal...

first off
Lamb of God-Wrath

The most recent release from what is probably my favorite band is absolutely skull-fuckingly awesome. It's got everything a metal-head could ask for. I honestly expected flames to shoot out of the speakers when the opening riff of "In Your Words" started to blast. This is thrash metal at its best. Here, see for yourself...


Sorry for no embedding, but it might kill my blog for that much awesomeness to be just right there, staring at you. But, seriously, isn't that fucking badass. It is, isn't it. It's like in Bloodsport, when Van Damme is facing a pile of bricks, and he hits the top one, but has so much control that it only smashes the bottom one...It's like that. The fucking THRASH!!!!

Exhibit b
Cannibal Corpse - Evisceration Plague

The godfathers of Gory Death Metal bludgeon you with their newest release. These songs are fucking great...all about zombies and shit. It's just brutal. I might be willing to forgive you for not liking this, if songs about crazy monsters and zombies eating people aren't your thing. But give this a look...

see, Zombies and shit...and isn't Corpsegrinder like the scariest person in the world...who does nothing but play world of warcraft when he's not singing about murdering suckas. I mean, this is so badass, it's like that part in Bloodsport, when that big dude breaks Van Damme's friends back, and then just looks at him, and Van Damme is really worried about his friend, but still has a look in his eyes like he's gonna smash that dude..just like that.

Example 3
Mastodon - Crack The Skye

Now, this is a lot less brutal, but no less awesome. This is what passes for a metal concept album. It's all about a boy, and inter-dimensional travel, and, like, Rasputin takes over the kids body...and, like, the theories of Stephen Hawking...Fuck it, I have no idea what these songs are really about, but they are still dome-blowingly good.

Mastodon: Divinations - New Video

Yeah, that's right, a caveman playing a guitar solo...and a fucking yeti. Do you need any more convincing? This is like that part in Bloodsport, when the Asian tough guy challenges Van Damme to snatch the coin out of his hand, and he thinks Van Damme hasn't done it, but when he opens his hands he sees that Van Damme actually snatched the coin, and replaced it with another.

Goatwhore - Carving Out The Eyes of God

Now, I know what you're saying...Goatwhore, what kind of a name is that? It sounds to awesome to be true...Well, it's almost too awesome to be true, but it's true. Now, I might also understand if you don't care for songs about armies from hell marauding across the countryside, but you should, because its, you guessed it, awesome.

No videos yet, the record just came out last week, but that song is killer. It's like that part in bloodsport, when Van Damme's opponent pretends to be knocked out, and tries to sneak Van Damme, but Van Damme just elbows the dude, and knocks his gold tooth out. Just like that.

Darkest Hour - The Eternal Return

These songs are exhausting they're so great. It's a fast record that doesn't take long to listen to, but it feels like running a marathon. While the other records are packed with evil, or rage, or murder...this record is packed with sheer...emotion and sadness, and legitimate anger at the state of things. Darkest Hour is an amazing band.

Again, no video, the record also just came out last tuesday. Not really like anything in Bloodsport. Just really, really great.

anyway, I know it's a pretty long post. I don't blame you if you found some of them abrasive. I hope you gave some of the songs a chance. I at least hope you found this post somewhat interesting. Even if you don't like this, at least be happy for me that this metal year has been very fruitful. You can at least do that, Can't you?

until next time


Thursday, May 28, 2009

Video Game Rage

Hey all, I know it's been awhile. For that, I'm sorry. Hopefully this post will make up for the lack of weekliness.

The subject of this weekly Keith is something that I'm sure a large portion of you know...Video Game Rage. It's a pretty serious problem that affects about 77% of the video gaming population. What is VGR? Well, it involves a lot of cursing, some throwing of stuff, faces turning red, more cursing. VGR is the bane of video game controllers everywhere, and usually involve their destruction. I've even heard of extreme cases where players are so filled with rage that they will bite the poor controller. This is on the extreme side of VGR, and I hope I never witness such rage.

VGR is serious fucking business. It's cause? Losing at video games.

Here is an extreme example of VGR...

It's never a matter of gamer skill that causes outbursts, it's that the game is cheating. The antagonist of all gamers is "the computer". This explains things like, "The fucking computer cheated me." or, "This game is cheap...fucking computer." or, "Fuck, sonofacock, piece of shit, monkey fart, bastard computer."

I, myself, have suffered from video game rage, especially in my younger years. One story, in particular, I like to tell involves the original incarnation of the Madden football franchise. I was winning 72 - 0. You might be wondering, 'how could a successful game of Madden result in VGR?', well, VGR isn't a logical malady. Anyway, the computer scored a touchdown on a kick return. My 10 year old body couldn't handle this turn of events...so, I grabbed the Super-Nintendo controller by the cord and swung it around my head like a grappling hook, and smashed it into the wall. Yes, this was a stupid thing to do, and I knew it right away, but the result wasn't all that terrible. The only damage to the controller was that you couldn't go left. This made me unbeatable in two player games, because I would give the other player that controller and stack my defense to one side of the field...GENIUS.

Nowadays I have calmed down quite a bit in my gaming, and if I feel those familiar rage bubbles building I just quit playing. Of course, a few curse words usually slip out, but that's okay. This can sometimes result in awesome quotes...my favorite is..."Fuck this fucking skank game...I quit."

So, next time you hear someone playing a game yelling about how they are getting cheated, or questioning the sexuality of a video game, just keep in mind that they can't help it. VGR is not a choice, it's a disease...

...a really funny disease.


Thursday, April 23, 2009

Ten things I learned from Predator...

1. Nobody, and I mean nobody, looks as badass smoking a cigar as Arnold.

2. Jesse "the body" Ventura is the greatest actor ever to live...and I quote "Y'all are a bunch of slack-jawed faggots...this shit will make you a goddamned sexual Tyrannasaurus." He's referring to chewing tobacco. He also, apparently, doesn't have time to bleed.

3. The nerdy glasses dude will always be the first person to get mangled in a mercenarial mission. It's science.

4. South America is scary.

5. When Carl Weathers and Arnold are in a room together, the only way to get rid of the excess manliness is an impromptu air arm-wrestling match. Don't know what that is? Watch the fucking movie.

6. Bill Duke likes Little Richard...and shaves without shaving cream. He's a man.

7. Apparently, native Americans are great trackers and, when faced with a Predator, prefer to take it on shirtless, armed only with a hunting knife.

8. In the jungle, you can cut a vine in half, and drink water from it.

9. If something bleeds, you can kill it.


Wednesday, March 25, 2009

The Cleaning of the Sleep Machine

Hey all, What's up? "Hey, The Weekly Keith...What's that?" Well, dear reader, that is a dirty clothes bouquet, and I made it just for you. You may also know it as a hamper overflowing with dirty clothes. "That's nice, The Weekly Keith...But where did it come from?" I'll tell you, dear reader...

So I was watching the new Punisher movie today, and marveling at how awesome Jimmy McNulty is as Jigsaw, when I got the urge to go into my room and tidy up a bit...That's right...I decided it was time to unclutter "The Sleep Machine."

Now, most of the readers have been to my apartment and have seen my room, and know it's a disaster area. This is maily due to the fact that I don't have a dresser, but instead just pile my clothes on the floor. A Clean Pile, and a Dirty Pile. The problem as of late, though, is that the two piles have decided to merge into a single entity. It was threatening to take over the entire area. So, as I said, it was time to do this shit.

Before I continue, I must tell you...I'm not ashamed to admit that my room is a mess. It's an integral part of me...and I don't buy into that whole thing link between a cluttered room and a cluttered mind...That's just bullshit. It's my room, and I keep it the way I want to. All I do in there is sleep and get dressed. That's it. So, if you want to judge, judge something else.

OK, so back to the matter at hand. I decided to spruce up the place a bit. So I turned on the new Mastodon record (which is fucking awesome), and started on a journey of self-discovery.

I found a whole bunch of crap I forgot I even had. I found my Happy Days Mr. Cunningham action figure that Allen gave me. I found my VHS copy of The Hitman starring Chuck Norris (wish I'd found a VCR, too). I found a whole bunch of khaki pants, not that I wear them, on hangers. I even found a flannel shirt...I didn't even know I had a fucking flannel shirt. I mean, it was fun. Like Christmas, only instead of a tree and packages, you have dirty clothes.

Perhaps most important of all, I found my copy of the Russin and Downs screenwriting book. I'd been looking for that thing for a while, and BAM, under a pair of blue-jeans.

The funny thing about all these dirty clothes is that I had an empty hamper stuck behind my door. There was no need to even have a dirty clothes pile. Anyways, I began to fill the hamper, and fill, and fill, and fill, all the while finding little treasures. Eventually I finished sorting the clean from the dirty, and my hamper was overflowing. It was amazing. Had I waited another day...I don't even want to think about that. The planet may have collapsed in on itself, killing all life. I don't want to do that, I like some of you.

The next step is doing laundry. I hate doing laundry.

Now, I don't want to give the impression that my room is in any way clean. It's still filthy. It's just a little more organized...and swiffered. That's the best you're going to get.

I know this isn't that great of a post, but really I don't care. The next one might not be even better. You want quality? I cannot guarantee any. I can guarantee you this...Dirty clothes bouquets for everyone.

Heh, I just realized I'm airing my dirty laundry on the internet...Get it?