My Daily Rant - 7.03.08 - I should be at hte beach


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I was supposed to go to the beach today. I was supposed to sit in the sun looking fine as ever and soak up that sun. I was supposed to try to learn to swim today. That all changed. What happened?

Zumiez happened.

I will not delve into what caused this interruption of my day, but let us just put on the record that it was significant and annoyed me to no end.

After that was all settled my day was pretty much over. I headed to the beach (Amityville Beach) and had a particulary rousing conversation with Courtney. One thing she said made me laugh,

“Soccer. That is all every other country does when they are bored, drunk, high. Just…soccer.”

To an extent, that is true as hell. In America what do we do when we are in an altered state of mind?

White Castle and fat chicks.

Either one will make you expel waste the same way.

Maybe that says something about us; maybe we have low standards. But is not shooting for the stars the American way?

Answer me that. What is the American way?

I then decided to trek it to Manhattan with a few members of the car club that I am apart of. I was the only one riding by myself so I had a lot of thinking to do. Here is my thoughts


Honestly…how do some of these idiots get graffiti on signs that are elevated over 20ft in the air? Is it really that important to tag your turf? It works JUST AS WELL to spit on it or to urinate on the same spot.

But then, we would have people urinating on signs over 20 feet in the air.


However, if they can spray something that high in the air anything is possible.

As you get closer to the city, it gets hotter

Gross. Want to know why I think that is gross? That is pollution. Yes people. Pollution. All of those taxi cabs in the city spewing out gases makes it a lot hotter there. If I feel a drastic temperature increase AS I am driving into the city when I am 10 miles out from it, that is a problem.

But who cares? Not me. Probably Al Gore. That guy definitely cares about this whole “pollution” thing. It has to be a phigment of our imaginations.

Just like PMS.

Parking in the city is like having sex with a girl that MIGHT have aids…

With out a condom. Why do I say this? Because you have no idea what level of screwed you are going to be when you pull out. You pull in thinking everything is alright, and you pull out with tickets/fungus all over you.

It is like playing Russian Roulette. And shoot, I am from LONG ISLAND. Those damn street signs have to be in another language than English. They make me feel like I am signing my life away or donating sperm or something.

I always donate my sperm.

Jacques luh dah kiiiidzzz.

The funny thing about parking in the city is the undercover cops giving tickets while you do it. Not only do they have nothing better to do to give me a ticket, they have to sit there for days writing the damn thing THEN give it to me.

Don’t you LOVE police?



My Daily Rant - 6.30.08 - It is always 21 you fucking idiot.

Well my three-day absence was taken in a different manner than I expected. Some people took it as pity, some people took it as it not being funny, but most people were actually surprised at the quality of writing etc and all of that boring stuff.

Well I have not exactly been absent the past three days as it was still my normal slightly stupid life. I mean shit, who is actually paying attention?


Besides everyone asking me what was wrong with me, or asking me why I have not been funny in three days, or actually helping me with this it has been a fun three days.

I dyed my hair brown and my dad is still not talking to me. To be honest, I have fulfilled all his educational desires this year for him to play this crap with me. The funny thing was after he was done telling my mother about how gay he thought I was he looked at me and laughed.

Now he obviously knows that I am as straight as a hanger (that is a joke people) but that is just something people feel the need to do.

I worked almost everyday of the past three days and it has been terrible each day. Let us not forget that I do love Gamestop but I dislike Zumiez. At Gamestop we like to play jokes.

For example, they tell me to shotgun a Sprite and I decide to do it but I shook the damn thing to much. That damn Sprite exploded all in my face. I am not used to this whole, “exploding in my face” thing (no pun intended), but the Sprite is still in my nose.

I went to my barbershop for a haircut, and since it is the blackest barbershop on the planet, my hair was obviously completely misunderstood and the butt of a few jokes. But as usual, one of the various women that spend time there, (for reasons I do not understand), said I looked good in it.

Compared to his wide nose having self.

That was terrible.

So yesterday, I played Suicide with Tommy on my team. Now Steve is terribly sun burnt because it is in his pale ass genetics to do that stuff. Japs was on his team also, and we were versing team Burnout in Bobby and Booth.

Now Team Burnout was making us laugh the majority of that time. The moment they got out of the car, they were chasing after each other. Now we are used to them being this gay, but this was different. They were pretending to shoot each other. Apparently, they were acting out Wanted, which is supposed to be an AWESOME movie. What was even better was the fact that they were running at full speed with a cigarette in their hands (which no one can get me to do, now matter how many times you ask me to take a “drag”).

Running with a full cigarette in your hands is like a visual oxymoron. Just like Richard Simmons having sex with a women.

You KNOW it does not make any sense, and the two just do not go together, but for some reason they are meshing SO well right now.

Well I do not think Richard Simmons having sex with a women would mesh correctly but you get my point. Watching the Burnouts run and jump with that damn cigarette was the SAME kind of oxymoron.

I hate people sometimes.

Not that I hated Team Burnout, I love them, but it was just too funny watching grown (well kinda) kids jump off tables screaming “PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW”.

The game ended and Tommy and I decided to look for a party as usual. As I ran through my contact list, we noticed many people were heading to the Bulldog. It was lifeguard night. An idea came to my head.

I love lifeguards.

We have to head to that damn party right? We ask someone if the bulldog was 18 that night and what did he say to me?

“It is always 21 you fucking young idiot”.



My Daily Rant - 6.28.08 - This rant will get no comments

This is part one of two serious rants. These all take place on a 3-hour walk I went to the basketball court down the street from my house. Since this rant is serious, I do not expect any comments.

Disclaimer – If you get bored easily, you will not be bored reading this rant.

The temperature is a cool 75 F with a nice smooth breeze. The basketball court is a double; it has two separate courts that are connected. A spot light shines towards the court from the near by school and it is extremely desolate late at night. The sounds of passing cars are heard, as a major street is only a few hundred feet away from it. My Zune is on shuffle. This is my thoughts according to each song that played.

Never Forget Me - Bone Thugs and Harmony

I am not afraid of anything. I expect everything I do, say, write, and accomplish to have equal consequences for my actions. No one strikes fear into me and no one takes ME out of my element. However, the one thing that makes me uncomfortable is being forgotten.

I do not want to be some afterthought that is cast away in some of the sewers that some people call minds. I feel uncomfortable that 80 years ago people may not be talking about me.

I feel uncomfortable that some of the people I graduated with probably do not remember who I am.

Although I have the feeling I feel maybe I have done it to other people. Am I outsourcing people? Am I just latching on to someone else as I try to make my climb to the top? Am I leaving friends behind that should not be left behind or, better-yet, being sourced? Is someone using me as a rung on his or her ladder to success?

This Is Your Night – Amber

When is MY night?

Is everyday MY night and I am just wasting it? Is it my night today or right now at 2 AM as I pen this together. What is taking so long for it to be MY night?

What if I run out of nights? What if tomorrow is the last opportunity I have to make something of myself ad I completely blow it? What if I miss that opportunity like I have missed so many others in life?

As this song played a man walked by me with his dog and I greeted him. He did not greet me; see, I am an extra in his life and he is the same to me. Except for that brief moment it was OUR night to cross paths.

When will I know I have gone too far? When I can push no longer?
Valentines Day – Linkin Park

By now, the temperature has dipped slightly. My hands are in my head as I sit in the middle of this court in near darkness. I am looking towards the ground trying to make anything out while my music plays. My shuffle is playing decent songs today.

The song is depressing. How can someone love something that is away? Not even away in that sense of the word; just apart? Can two people that have grown completely apart come back together?

What happens when two alikes attracted and then it becomes opposites attract? What do you do when no matter how hard subliminally both poles repel each other as if they are placed together. Just like batteries two people can repel each other but still touch; just these two people are not able to fully mesh and create electricity.

What is love? I look at my sister can I love her the same way I may love someone else? However, what if I feel the same when we are separated? Does that make it the same love? Everyone needs their protection from the outside forces that cause something to wear down so everyone can continue to live boring uneventful lives.

Except me.

Move Along – All American Rejects

In high school, I had the biggest crush on this one girl. It was not even that I liked her so damn much. She was pretty, yes, but that was not what I liked. The thing that intrigued me was the fact that I had never had a full conversation with this girl in the four years that we shared the same grade together. I have talked to almost everyone in my grade in at least one conversation EXCEPT this girl.

That is over 600 conversations leaving out this ONE girl. That is one of the most important things to me, a good conversation. I remember in 10th grade I even went to the extent of giving this girl a gift on Valentines Day out of the complete randomness.

It was terribly cute and the resulting hug made my day. I remember feeling accomplished at something. But why did I feel accomplished at that? I still hadn’t talked to her. I could have easily walked up to her and said hello and initiated conversation but instead I moved along and she eventually moved out of my life.

Suck It Or Not – Cam’ron and Lil Wayne

I despise Lil’ Wayne. Everyone else likes him. Am I a non conformist? No. Because non-conformity is conformity because in the end you are agreeing with someone.

In high school, I tried to conform hard. I remember when people called me white and no hard feelings, but if you called me white in my first two years of high school – it hurt. It hurt a lot, and I tried to change my appearance and the way I lived to fit a “black” persona.

It never worked.

Touch the Sky – Kanye West

By this time, I had trekked over to the front of the school and I am sitting on the stoop with my music, a notebook and a pen, and my phone. I am writing under the light everything that you are reading right now. I have a journal, which portrays some of the funnier moments in my life that do not make it to my blogs because I do not like them at all.

But, what make me dislike them? What makes YOU dislike what I write? I remember when Kanye lost the award for this video and he said, “MY VIDEO COST A MILLION DOLLARS”. Everyone called him a bitch. I applauded him. Why? Because if you put some damn effort in and it is more than what EVERYONE else that wants to copy you puts in, then WHY should you not be recognized?

That is bullshit. I write these damn things daily not because I have no life; believe me I have a life, but to see what YOU think. Some of these stories are basically MY life and YET I get 2 – 3 comments on them sometimes? That sucks.

Yea I am bitching about this whole fucking thing, but WHO CARES? I should be able to complain about it.

These rants are worth A MILLION DOLLARS. I AM worth a million dollars.

But that is not your fault, no, I have to give you a reason to comment. I should be writing a lot more intuitively, more vigor, and more correct in ORDER to make sure you comment. To make sure you read that damn rant and you want to comment.

It has been my fault the whole time.

The World is Yours – Nas

A security guard drives over and kicks me out. YOU CANNOT KICK ME OUT. Stop leaving me out. I hate being left out. I leave my self out. When I half ass one of these I am leaving you out. The reader.

The person that cares to read these every damn day even when it is not funny. But that should be everyone right? The “WORLD IS MINE”? Apparently it is. Daily, I have people telling me how I am wasting my talent; I am a genius; you are gorgeous; you should model with that face; it gets annoying.

Hearing compliments?

Yes. If the world is SO MINE right now why am I not famous yet? Why are you not talking about me when you are not on Facebook?

Am I complaining?

Yes but I feel like I deserve to be talked about.

Stop and Stare – Old Republic

Someone has to watch me act a fool. Someone has to realize what I DEAL with on a normal day. Someone has to see me act my ass off for not apparent reason and have everyone laugh at you.

Great feeling.

I am glad I am not taken seriously because I want people to look at me, even stare, and be fixated. I want to reach a level when my presents is not only known; its felt.

As I wrote this down, I tripped on a pothole in the middle of the street and sat there. I wanted everyone to see me.

Hello, I am Jacques and I am extremely extroverted.

Home – Bone Thugs & Phil Collins

Am I going through a struggle? Do I really have problems?

No I do not.

But if I put it out there that I do you are more likely to entertain me with a conversation about them. I am losing it people. Slowly.

Hollywood Died – Yellow Card
I almost cried a little bit listening to this song...it really is not that sad at all. Does that make me a bitch for tearing? No. Everyone tears at different things. People have cried laughing at some of the stupid shit I have to say.

Right now, I am hearing footsteps and I am somewhat scared but I slowly realize that they are my own. I am my own fear. I said before that everyone needs protection except me. I say that because when I write I put my whole life out there for you people to read. Why do I do this? Therefore, you can see who I am...what I am doing and determine what to do with it. No gimmiks...no fucking costumes straight 100% me.

Listen to Your Heart

I dislike this song. Not because I do not like it...it is because this song hurts me. Not because of some girl or because of something that happened, no, because this song resembles people around me that need some fixing.

People I live with.

People I talk too.

People who talk to me. So what do I do? I continue walking my path through their life.

I hear people arguing in the house next to me. Parents. Does love between the sexes still exist? My parents argued. That didn't hurt me one bit...why? And I don't know why...