tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84099489152081200302009-12-18T07:04:50.309-08:00Spoonful of Shut Up reeks of social observation, witty humor and many unnecessary lists of confessions and dislikes. Stupidity, idiocy, ignorance, abstinence... it's all a Spoonful of Shut Up. Go ahead, drink it down smooth.The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.comBlogger105125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-5839019891244463092009-09-01T22:43:00.000-07:002009-09-02T08:51:35.271-07:00

This is a little excerpt from something I've been working on.But the thought of one-hundred foot flames licking the hillside, endangering those who live there is still a scary thought. It was windy and hot and dry. It was a beautiful day to be fire. Throughout the rest of the day it was more of the same: flashy lights, wailing sirens, smoke columns. Rinse and repeat. One column turned to two,

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-26365041631650841382009-04-14T20:06:00.000-07:002009-04-14T20:17:55.820-07:00

As you well know, this is not a political blog. However, the following video is a verifiable joke. Sure, the message they intended to pass along wasn't a joke. But the logic surely is. Whether Democrat or Republican, Christian or Atheist, you should all have a watch.Just listen for the following:The guy sitting down wearing the glasses, pretty much choking on whatever Constitutional Party

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-1971532707475895922009-03-27T01:34:00.000-07:002009-04-13T22:31:00.967-07:00

Seriously. It's been darn near three months since my last post. WTF? I'm not really sure why, but many of you are still reading this, and some of you are still leaving comments. And that's awesome! So, thank you. I don't see any form of logic, but I also have twice as many RSS subscribers and more than double followers of my blog than I did Jan. 21, my last post. So I guess I owe you a pretty

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-3419918670434228402009-01-19T21:58:00.000-08:002009-01-21T17:43:45.627-08:00

I love my grandma. Who doesn't, right? But grandma can be a bit of a bully sometimes. It's like she does things sometimes just to see how much of a rile she can get out of somebody. I'd say it annoys me, but I do the same thing. I just now know where I get it. But grandma's hit a rough streak lately. New Year's Day, she comes over for dinner with the rest of my family. Meekly, she lets out that

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-37473991075897596392009-01-11T22:39:00.000-08:002009-01-11T22:56:53.710-08:00

I got the following diddy from CNN.com. I don't know for sure, but I'm guessing my degree in English doooooesn't weigh in very heavily. Check it out. I only read the first five paragraphs. Then I beat myself up for not applying. English degrees are totally useful. I can decipher hidden codes in foreign and historical documents. I could do all types of fantastic things, but maybe I was meant to

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-80909082262042930022009-01-08T23:19:00.000-08:002009-01-09T19:31:22.618-08:00

It's Friday, and like most working-class Americans, I've had a long week. It wasn't bad or terribly difficult, but I get to hear a lot of complaints, and that will drip-drop-drain a man - not to mention working roughly 16-hour days. But I compensated by drinking a lot of coffee (my whiskey substitute). Now I'm Jazzy McHyperpants. I just just keep running around the office. I have the tune of "

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-38755437212763856712008-12-30T23:41:00.001-08:002009-01-02T17:59:56.299-08:00

Our society is governed by a means of associations, of comparisons. When you think about it, nearly every aspect of our life owes some significance to this thought. When friends compare different models of computers, they're exactly the same, only a little different. During a fight, a husband says to his wife she is exactly like her mother, only little different. We are always changing as people

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-1769649889573296532008-12-21T21:17:00.000-08:002008-12-21T22:53:48.776-08:00

I have a theory. It involves the effect of certain foods on your dreams. I am sure genotype construction, types of food, levels of stress, when the food was eaten and other factors are sure to have some measurable effect. But for me, if I eat citrusy foods within half hour of laying down, I get some wild-ass dreams. Like the other night... I walked out of my apartment and stepped onto the streets

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-37883899587039783732008-12-15T13:53:00.001-08:002008-12-17T16:13:34.247-08:00

I'm sitting here, at my desk, in the sub-zero space known to be the office. At the risk of sounding like a bitch-fest, it has so far been one of those days. I walk in to a nagging, yelling, angry boss telling me I was wrong. I was wrong for other people screwing up and I was wrong for not predicting other people would screw up and I was wrong for not correcting the screw ups. Even though I

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-85919308787285563262008-12-08T23:17:00.000-08:002008-12-09T00:22:18.612-08:00

Just to clarify, the title has nothing to do with this post. I just heard it on the soft rock station, and I think I'd publically like to add that song to my Confessions posts. And to spare you any surprise or confusion, this post is a little random. 1. I was introduced to the term "Hater Vision" about a year ago. I reside in a city with less than 100,000 people in Northern California. I had

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-24939210568739969262008-12-03T12:50:00.000-08:002008-12-03T16:48:30.433-08:00

Don't you feel that it's much easier to only see the negative side of karma? You know, when something bad happens you think, "Hmm, I shouldn't have cheated on that test. I guess karma got me again." I seem to say that a lot more than, "Gee whiz, I'm sure glad I donated all my free time and what little excess money I have to the homeless shelter, and because of my good deeds I've been rewarded

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-18108578823197219832008-11-28T14:46:00.000-08:002008-12-09T00:10:08.060-08:00

Pigeons annoy the crap out of me. You'll just be sitting on a park bench, trying to enjoy a nice turkey sandwich and before you know it you're swarmed by them. They look at you, side-eyed, and mock you. They scream Hoorlooorloorl - which is the sound a pigeon makes. And with each step they bob their heads. Which leads me to believe that pigeons are byproducts of South American drug shacks from

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-72891254820948324612008-11-26T07:31:00.000-08:002008-11-28T15:48:42.985-08:00

Lately I've been a little bummed. I met a girl I ended up liking, and something went wrong and now we don't talk. The not-talking isn't what bugs me, it's why we're not talking. The reason: There is no reason. Very awkward thing. But anyhow, this is a recounting of last weekend's trip that made me realize I'm totally not ready to grow up. What is it about sporadic ideas that make them sound so

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-17428949545836284722008-11-18T11:26:00.000-08:002008-11-28T15:48:42.991-08:00

There is a lot of stupidity out there. I mean a lot. So, to bring a sense of normalcy to my daily screw-ups, I'm making fun of others. This will be a new little bit called, just like the title suggests, "Today in the news:"1. Man nabbed after hitting girlfriend with sandwich PORT ST. LUCIE, Fla. – A man faces a domestic battery charge after allegedly hitting his girlfriend with a sandwich as

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-31117027290948413212008-11-10T00:00:00.000-08:002008-11-28T15:48:42.996-08:00

There's just no simple way around it. I love cheese. And it's not something I see changing any time soon. And it is a very curious thing when people don't like cheese. Yeah, I didn't think it could happen either. But they're out there, watching you, judging you with that queso contempt. Is it a jealousy thing? Like, "O, I wish I liked cheese." And I remain perplexed. I like all kinds of cheese.

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-61024327197500145112008-11-05T08:20:00.000-08:002008-11-28T15:48:43.004-08:00

I don't know how many of you have heard, but there are web-based tools that algorithmically generate plot scenarios. It is a little boost for an idea when you can't seem to create something on your own. And no, it's not cheating. After all, you are just given a few details and you go from there. I have decided to come up with a short story each week - in addition to my decreasingly-regular rants

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-12270057979575685762008-10-24T22:39:00.000-07:002009-09-08T19:26:23.687-07:00

Life is a game. And as the title suggests, I suck big ol' donkey schlong. I may occasionally do things that are good, but I don't necessarily do them for the right reasons. Here's why: I recycle. And yes, I've heard it is good for the environment. It saves on landfill and saves resources and yadda yadda yadda. And I'm okay with that. In fact, I like that. But when it comes down to it, at the end

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-80303074097190033832008-10-18T13:32:00.000-07:002008-11-28T15:48:43.015-08:00

I'm sitting in the office of a public building. Downstairs, where I am, is an art gallery. Upstairs is a performing room where ballet and ballroom dancing classes, poetry recitals, yoga and many other classes are held. Right now, though, there is a hand drum class. And it echoes. I don't even have to go up there to tell you that there is one talented person and another who is not so talented. I'm

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-15128683442849430442008-10-04T15:21:00.001-07:002008-11-28T15:48:43.021-08:00

1. Walnuts in my baked goods. Seriously. Walnuts are acceptable in three forms only. Eating them raw. Eating them toasted. Eating them on a salad with a balsamic vinaigrette and dried cranberries. That's it. NEVER in cookies. And NEVER in brownies. I've had enough of this unholiness. Not only do they taste terrible, there is a mindset... a stereotypical attitude of the people that make them. When

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-38153071276580030442008-09-28T22:48:00.000-07:002008-11-28T15:48:43.027-08:00

I feel robbed. My bank, WaMu was bought and resold last week, all without my knowing. There was all this talk about people's money being insured up to $100,000. I have two problems with this. First, I don't even have $1,000 in my account, let alone 100 times that. Second, If you have more than $100,000 sitting in a bank account somewhere, chances are you are wise enough to move your money into

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-84378520426980485122008-09-03T22:32:00.000-07:002008-11-28T15:48:43.033-08:00

Different isn't bad. In fact, I think different is exciting. It throws a curve ball into the hum-drum, monotonous rituals we call our lives. But we are programmed to stop and question difference, because there is so much we expect to be the same. That's why we pick and choose what we remember. In the hustle and bustle of everyday life we, as humans, can't possibly remember every little detail. So

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-49007010861045005212008-08-27T21:57:00.000-07:002008-11-28T15:48:43.038-08:00

In the good spirit of continuing the Spoonful of Secrets series, this entry is dedicated to the movies I wouldn't tell my friends I enjoy watching. And don't worry, none of my true friends care enough to even read this blog. So I guess I'm safe. So let's get this ball rollin, shall we?Number 1. When Harry Met Sally. As far as I'm concerned, this is Billy Crystal's defining role. "Had my dream

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-70985020164066989422008-08-25T20:48:00.000-07:002008-11-28T15:48:43.044-08:00

First off I'd like to survey the topic of music. Sure, I rock out to Tool and Brand New, not to mention all things 80s. But there's much more to my many-layered musical-onion self. I often feel that music is more me than me, if that makes any sense. But some of it just doesn't seem appropriate to share with my friends, or even complete strangers. While I may well enjoy many such artists, I'd like

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-28066947828026949412008-08-24T11:39:00.000-07:002008-11-28T15:48:43.050-08:00

We all have secrets. There are things we like that we don't want anybody else to know we like. For example I wish I had a secret language that only my friends and I could speak and understand. I'm not so much afraid of the dark as I am afraid of sticking my hand down the garbage disposal. I saw it once in a scary movie and never felt the same. So I have decided to start a series of confessional

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8409948915208120030.post-23180100924721806082008-08-20T22:04:00.000-07:002008-11-28T15:48:43.056-08:00

OK, OK, you got me. I'm a texter. Yep, I said it. For the most part I prefer texting to talking on the phone. SERIOUSLY!! Granted, sometimes talking on the phone is necessary, sometimes it's even enjoyable (albeit rarely and in extremely moderate amounts.) I prefer to avoid confrontation whenever possible. But you know what really gets my goat? Do ya? Over-ecstatic texting. You may be familiar

The Joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03118898928311968592noreply@blogger.com4