Below are the 7 most recent journal entries recorded in sims_perry's LiveJournal:

Thursday, February 23rd, 2006
2:11 am	(Comment on this)
Thursday, January 12th, 2006
12:52 am	Losing Faith in Humanity I think just about anyone who meets me and talks to me for long enough comes to terms with the fact that I am a very sick, twisted person. Also factor in a few mountain dews, a Peer-to-Peer connection, and boredom and you get what might be the funniest combination imaginable. I had been downloading music yesterday evening. Led Zeppelin, REO Speedwagon, Flock of Seagulls, things like that. Then I realized that it'd be a funny joke to play on people if I were to change "Keep on Rolling" to "Hot Lesbian Sex". I watched as within minutes this file got 50 downloads. I was astounded. Then the Tom got an idea. An awful idea. The Tom got a wonderful awful idea. What if, perhaps, I was to change some of these names to sick pornography titles? I wonder if I'd get any bites? And this is where the fun begins. The first title I put up was "Naked boys dancing and eating cake." I sat in anticipation, waiting for my first download. Success, the first download came. Then the second. Then the third. This baby was steamrolling down the information super highway like a trucker with a hardon that has 2 miles left to the next truck stop. Before I knew it, I was getting twenty downloads. Then thirty. Then fifty. Can you imagine that in the end, rather than getting dancing boys naked and indulging themselves with sweets and frolicking in a dewy meadow, one-hundred thirty two people got a disappointing video of Led Zeppelin performing "Dazed and Confused" in front of a live audience? At this point, I had no choice but to continue. The second title I put up was "My Ex-Girlfriend mowing the lawn naked." I thought that this was too far out to get any downloads. Alas, I was wrong. It got a download. Then two. Then thirty. In the end, seventy-eight sweaty, drooling fucks wanted to see my ex girlfriend mow the lawn stark naked. She's not even that hot. Rather then get their lawn-mowing beauty, they got the song "Ozone baby." For the third title, I decided to transform "White Wedding" into the more intriguing "Elephant cock horse." I wish I could say I was kidding when this thing was downloaded one hundred eighty seven times. I guess there is something about horses and elephants showing their cocks that bring out the best in people. I nearly died of laughter at this point. "How can nearly two hundred people want to see naked animals? They're ALWAYS naked!" For sanctity's sake, we're going to leave this as a mystery. I hope I turned some people on to Billy Idol, hopefully distracting them long enough to forget that masturbating to horse and elephant genitalia are not really something their mothers would be proud of. I couldn't stop myself from doing another. "Grandma Bingo Sex." Short and sweet. I couldn't stop myself from amusing.........myself..... "Grandma Bingo Sex." Surely not a common scenario, and surely not a scenario that would arouse many a twisted psyche. Apparently I know nothing about the human psyche. One hundred twenty two. ONE HUNDRED TWENTY TWO PEOPLE would like to see grandma getting bent over the bingo table, game card in hand, getting donkey punched by a 90 year old addle brained porn star. I rubbed my eyes just to double check. My eyes had to be lying to my brain. My penis had shriveled to the size of a 2 day old Wendys chicken nugget. They asked for Grandma. They got Joan Jett. At this point I had to start taking puffs of my albuteral inhaler to keep from suffocating myself with laughter. "Girl on girl toe insertion (LEGAL)" was my next proud creation. Everyone likes 38 Special, so everyone won't feel like such dumb-asses after downloading this footy piece of shit. Never underestimate the inertia traveling behind a toe inserting itself into a rectum, friends. It's like a fucking semi hurling down Interstate 40 in the noonday sun. One hundred twelve people wanted to jerk to this. God have mercy on us. At this point, for some odd reason, the user name "Enraged Baboon" popped into my head. "Enraged Baboon fucking a nipple factory." No way in hell would this get many downloads. Who could possibly type in any or all of those keywords? I guess people like seeing sweaty red-ass baboons, nostrils flaring, banging their chests like Marky Mark in the movie "Fear", having sex WITH each other in a factory that produces baby-bottle nipples. Imagine what those children would look like. One hundred seventy two people typed those magic words into Limewire, and got a hot steaming pile of monkey love. Well, it was Pink Floyd, but a man can dream, cant he? This could all seem very disturbing. My final experiment, however, made me dizzy as my precious sack retreated into my pelvis. ...THREE PEOPLE...three disgusting, drooling, perverted, fucked up people, wielding a box of Puffs Plus and a tube of Vaseline Intensive Care Lotion, bright eyed and bushy tailed, wanted to see "An emu taking a vicious dump." How does one take a VICIOUS dump and how does an EMU take one, for that matter? Ladies and gentlemen: this is why I have lost every last ounce of faith in humanity. If I may quote Method: "You're going to make a lot of sick people very unhappy." (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, January 11th, 2006
12:39 am	Looking Back To really understand the world you're living in you must look at it from another angle. I do this on a regular basis, but it's hard on my neck sometimes and I tend to fall over at inappropriate times, like when in large moving crowds causing human pile-ups. Whenever people see a human pile-up everyone around has to yell "PILE-UP!!!" and everyone stops what they're doing to jump on. Needless to say I'm somewhere at the bottom trying to figure out the world I'm living in to take my mind off my claustrophobia just before I pass out from lack of oxygen. Getting off of a pile-up is particularly awkward because people realize they can't stay on it forever, no matter how fun it is; so they slowly disengage and continue along their way to their respective destinations without saying a word, or so I'm told, I wouldn't know being at the bottom and all. I decided the other day to try something different. Just as stupid; but different. I looked in front of me and came to realize that I only see half of my day, everyday. Let me explain: the human set of eyes only sees around 180 degrees of what surrounds them at any given time. No matter how you swivel your head around, there's still that 180 degree patch that you'll never see. This is half of your day that you just don't see (assuming you're not blind; I don't think this will be printed in braille any time soon, sucker (I can make snide remarks because they can't see this)). My plan? I figured I'd like to experience that other half of my day for once and give the forward one a break. I'd go about my day like any other day, only this time I'm walking backwards and keeping an eye on the things I'd normally completely miss. I considered using mirrors, but they tend to break when I look at them. I woke up gasping for air; I wanted to see what the back of my head sees all night (a pillow), which didn't make much sense because I can't recall what the front of me sees when I sleep either. It was actually quite the pickle, so I decided I wasn't missing too much during sleep. I woke up (in the morning this time) ready to start an entirely different day in the life of me. It was a pretty rough morning. I actually considered bailing out after I fell down the stairs when I was going up them; who falls going up? Honestly. Anyways, I regained my composure and figured it was going to take some getting used to. After successfully getting dressed I went downstairs to eat breakfast; cereal, of course, which I sat down at the table with, but this time I straddled the chair and faced the other way. "Odd", I thought, "I can actually see out the window now. Hey! There's fucking squirrel's in my tomatoes!" I needed to go squirrel fishing sometime soon, but that's another story. Already I began to really grasp the other side of life; those cheeky squirrels must have been really caught off guard when they saw me watching them. "Busted" they were probably thinking while they looked in at me giving them the finger. I'll get them later; I've got things to do. Well, not really, but I like to pretend I do. Walking down the street was a very interesting experience. I had no idea what was coming up behind me, but I kind of liked it. I met many angry people that day. I usually don't get to meet people. I got yelled at, honked at by cars that I didn't watch out for, I fell over many times, a couple people kicked me while I was down; this is the human experience at its finest. You'd be surprised how negatively people can be towards someone walking backwards. An old couple sitting on a park bench started nattering awfully loudly as I back-walked by. "What's this then?" "EH?" "I say, look at that man. He's libel to fall and break a hip or hurt himself." "It's people like that that drain on our healthcare!" "Stupid kids these days don't even know which direction to walk anymore; things sure have gone out the window." "If I remembered to bring my ruler I would go and teach that..." she went out of earshot. Silly woman, I know how to measure things with rulers. I'm two feet tall. Something as simple as walking in the other direction gets people really upset. Unless, of course, this always happens; it IS the other side of my life. Perhaps people are always mean to my backside when I'm not normally looking. I imagine I'm like one of those frosted mini-wheats: where everyone loves my front, frosted side and scowls at my wheat, backside. Either way this isn't a very positive thing and my mind began wondering if everyone secretly only liked one side of me. Some people don't even like my good side, maybe they're the ones who like my backside; how can I please everyone!? I stumbled backwards in through my front door and fumbled around in my fridge, feeling for the mustard. I figured I should make smiley mustard happy faces on the backs of all my clothes; that should cheer people up. People would smile at me as I walked by and get ready to turn around to flip off my backside, or holler inappropriate slang at me, when they'd be confronted with a mustard stain that resembled a smiley face drawn by a two year-old. "Aww, he's got dumb kids, no wonder he's gone crazy", they'd think as they continue along their way with a smile on their face and a sudden urge to support the hot-dog vending industry. From now on I'm taking mustard from the vendors to support the cost of materials for the advertising. What did I learn after the day was over? For starters: I need to fashion an extra set of feet facing the opposite direction, I should probably give the mustard face a speech bubble that says "Watch out, honkey!" for when I'm walking backwards, I need to stick to one name for my imaginary two year old so that when people ask me what my kid's name is I can confidently give them a name instead of muttering a bunch of names (Carl-Suzy-Von-Fredrickson) then quickly changing the topic to equestrian sports. Of course my constant search to discover the perfect angle for life will continue. I still have many different ones to try out and discover. I think I'm going to slide around on a skateboard on my back, propelling myself with my feet, to get a nice "ground's eye view" of you humans. I can just taste the sexual harassment charges when I go by the catholic school. (Comment on this)
Thursday, January 5th, 2006
11:31 pm	One o'dem dayz I love days when it rains and stays dark pretty dark outside. That is until I realize that it's Thursday, 8am and I need to be at work at nine. That's when I pull out all of the stops and rush to shower, neglecting the cleansing of my hair and asshole. I just take another shower when I get home. When I oversleep it's like cutting my sack while shaving my balls. It throws off the rest of my day and I bleed in the crotch area. Luckily, I knitted these really cool gauze underwear for just such occasions and I heal like Wolverine. This is a story about a sea otter. Otto the loveable sea otter. Wait a minute. No it's not. This is about me getting pulled over on my way to work. I hop in my car at about half past eight, which meant that the half hour drive wouldn't permit me time to stop for coffee and a breakfast sandwich. Wawa is heaven and their staff of barely intelligible personnel is its choir of angels. Alas, Wawa would not be in the itinerary this morning. I drive at reasonable speeds for the most part, but when running late I tend to speed up a bit. Nothing outrageous, I just increase my average speed of 65mph to about 72mph. Cruise control set and away I go. I also pick my nose when in my car if I don't have a tissue. I don't wipe it on the seats or anything like that. I crack the window a bit and flick my prize out the window. This has gotten me many a disgusted look over the years. I don't care. If a stalactite is jutting outwards in my nasal cavity and I can feel the root tickling my brain, I will harvest it and flick it out the window. I am going to bring it all together. Don't worry. I guess that on rainy, foggy mornings, there are certain factors that need to be taken into account when speeding. One, it's slick and dangerous. I have all-terrain tires on my truck and it does well in the rain, so no worries there. Two, you have limited vision due to fog. This factor should have been adhered to as I did not see one of Maryland's finest in my rearview. Three, you shouldn't speed when you cannot see Johnny Law. He wasn't riding on my butt and I wasn't going that fast. I didn't notice him. I think that was because my finger was so far up my nose, that I may have pinched my optic nerve. I am still seeing things a bit blurry. I don't think that he would have pulled my over for speeding, necessarily. People were passing me and I was in the middle lane. I guess that when he moved up to pass me was when the detainable offense occurred. I was knuckle deep. I have had a bit of a cold. The air is very dry in my house. Thinking that I was grasping a crispy booglet, I pulled with all of my might, unsheathing the most unholy of all boogers. The camo-booger. Disguising itself as a crispy, you think that your ordeal will be wiped clean with a breeze. No chance for this hearty, slimy fuck. These kinds of boogers can tap into your memory. Pre-occupied, I cracked the window to prepare for my ordeal, unaware of the police officer behind me, about to move to my left. It took four hard flicks and on the fourth, as my finger reached full-force extension, I saw what was about to occur. That cop was going to get a windshield full of booger. Things happened in bullet time. I saw in my side mirror as the officer's face went from paying attention to the road, to paying attention to his windshield, then to paying attention to me. He slowed and turned on his lights. He thought that I did it on purpose. Thoughts of fleeing this embarrassing situation filled my mind. What the fuck was I supposed to say?! I pulled over. He approached my truck and asked a question that I will never understand. "Do you know why I pulled you over?" he asked. Struggling for the correct answer, I said, "I uh know uh I was speeding, sir but I was uh running..." He cut me off, "You flicked a booger on my cruiser. Any particular reason you would do that to a police officer?" I managed to stammer these words, "The fog, I couldn't see, I pick and drive, when no tissue..." I cannot remember what I said. He asked for license and registration, went back to his car and began writing what I thought was a dissertation on the effects of a booger ridden police cruiser. He came back with his little hat condom on. "Here's a ticket for doing 71 in a 55, please sign at the bottom. It's a $170 fine or you can show up to court. If you decide to go to court, you can bet that I'll be there. You may want to buy some Kleenex and grow up a bit. Have a nice day." Fucking cops. How can he insinuate that I'm immature because I pick my nose? Everyone does. That's why a person's fingers perfectly fit into their own nostrils. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, November 4th, 2005
12:57 am	Think About it (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, October 28th, 2005
1:56 am	I'm no racist, but (Comment on this)
Friday, July 29th, 2005
3:41 am	SAY HELLO... (Comment on this)