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Monday, September 29, 2003


LIFE WITH CAPTAIN HAPPY: MY ADVENTURES WITH INSOMNIA, MASTURBATION AND ROB LOWE

I just realized that I don't often write about my life. This is a good thing and I'm going to explain why. I know you're thinking "C'mon, MJ! We all come here for your fear and despondency. Don't be a jerk off! Give it up!" In a lot of different ways, I agree with you, too. But if I write about my fear and despondency then I'd feel obligated to tell you what I'm afraid and despondent about. Other people may not appreciate this because they're not exhisbitionistic, like me. So, in respect to other people's privacy, I refrain from telling those stories. Too bad, really. You'd all really like to what a horrible cunt and/or failure of a man I really am. Really, you would.

So, from Friday to late last night, I was really depressed. I figured I could write and this would cheer me up. Then, after staring blankly at the cursor for a half hour or so, I'd get even more depressed and go back to bed and read my giant LBJ book. Okay, I can't fool you teenagers for a second, I went back to bed, masturbated and read my giant LBJ book. There, I admitted it...I masturbate. A lot. Happy now? But yesterday alone, I managed to masturbate 6 times and got through nearly 250 pages of the big book O' LBJ.

It's a small victory, I know, but I'm lacking in even those lately. I'll take what I can get.

Usually, on Sunday mornings I get up all bright and early and watch the Sunday morning Clinton-hating shows. Meet the Press, Face the Nation, Fox News Sunday and This Week With George Stephanopulos-expialdoucious (I know, don't hate me because I'm beautiful. You think I got this sexy without help? Lots and lots of help?)

But given that the soul crushing depression started late Friday night, I decided to drink. Heavily. A 4 liter box of wine and a few Nytol and I was good and oblivious (I know... I'm classy, too.) Let's just say that my Sunday morning routine was, shall we say, pre-empted.

This is why I thank God that NBC has 17 stations in my cable package. "Meet the Press" is on constantly. And I knew that the guest would be Condoleeza Rice. Here's a dirty, little secret of mine. I'm hopelessly, desperately in love with Condoleeza Rice. Now, I know what else you're thinking; "MJ, realistically, how many women can you be in love with at once?" To this I respond, You really, really don't want to know. But Dr. Condi is the perfect woman (something I don't often say about women who speak English but Condi is fluent in Russian, too. And Zombie is fluent in everything. There, all my bases are covered, I think.)

Now, I had a major scheduling conflict. As "Meet the Press" was on at 10:00, that meant I couldn't witness Rob Lowe's second attempt at career suicide with "The Lyon's Den." But I could, on the Seattle NBC affiliate at 1:00. Then I'd also have a whole two hours to masturbate some more, read my massive missive of LBJ and even catch a nifty documentary on the media's role in the coup against Hugo Chavez in Venezuela last year (Christ, do I get sexier?)

Back to Rob Lowe. Is this guy a fucking show biz Lazarus, or what? The first time he was a big star, I was in high school, trying to be nothing like Rob Lowe....I was more of a Judd Nelson persona. Then he banged some high school girls. Two specifically. At the '88 Demoratic National Convention in Atlanta. Oh, did I mention he did it on videotape? This used to get you sent to prison. In 1990, you were forced to make a bad movie alluding to it with James Spader.

But Rob Lowe got a second chance. In prime-time, too. In his first scene on the "West Wing" he had just awakened from a night of hot sex with a semi-cute prostitute. But the whore was going to law school so it wasn't weird or anything. And he was a hit. A HUGE hit! So what did he do? He fucked it up, of course. Lowe decided that he wasn't getting paid enough and figured he go back to making bad buddy movies with James Spader. I giggled my ass off for a long time when he quit the "West Wing."

And then NBC gave him another show! Ye fucking Christ! Rob Lowe is the luckiest guy on the planet. The worst part is...The show isn't bad! In that spirit, I'm thinking of getting cosmetic surgery and videotaping myself having sex with teenage girls. My life has to improve somehow.

At midnight, I figured that I'd rub another out and read my book until the Nytol took hold and I could escape my miserable existence for a time. No dice. At 4:00 AM, I was still reading my fucking book. So, I did what any of you would do. I masturbated again, turned off the lights and laid there with my eyes closed, wide awake for 6 fucking hours!

God, I'm a miserable bastard. You should all be thrilled that you're merely entertained by me instead of being forced to be me. And for this, I hate you all.

Currently Reading: "The Years of Lyndon Johnson: Master of the Senate" - Robert A. Caro

Number of Times I've Masturbated Today: 4 (But it's early yet, so let's say 5. I'll amend this if tomorrow if I hit six but don't count on it. I'm very tired.)

8:24 PM