JOEL DAVID NewsOK.com Blogging Community

Well, as much as I know you hate reading about my surgery adventures, it looks like you have to endure it again. I had surgery for the fourth time in a month yesterday! That’s right! Four effing times in one month’s time. Whoo boy is that fun. Not really.

I had surgery on two more abscesses Friday. So now I have a happy trio of holes. I’ve named them Larry, Moe and Curly. Someday I’ll think that’s funny, but today I don’t. In all honesty I have been awake since eight Friday morning. Right now I am in another of many Lortab induced writing moods. I know how lucky that must make you feel.

I went to the doctor this morning and was told I needed to have surgery this afternoon again. As I had a couple of hours to kill I decided to go to Blockbuster and load up on DVD’s. When I went in I returned the first disc of the first season of House and told the kid who worked there that it didn’t work. He said I probably hadn’t played it right. I know that the size of my head makes people think I might be a mongoloid, but I’m not. Even if I was, I’m pretty sure a mentally challenged person doesn’t put DVD’s in the toaster. At least not as often as one might think. I told the guy it was a dual layered disc and he said it wasn’t. I told him that it was and then he looked at the case and said that it was. Thanks genius.

As they didn’t have another copy of the defective DVD, and they did give me a credit, I just went ahead and rented the second and third discs from the House collection. That pisses me off though because I missed a couple of episodes. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t make a difference, but it still annoyed me.

Anyhow. I had surgery this afternoon at the same location as before. I should probably just move in there as it looks like this may not stop anytime soon. To say I’m aggravated is an understatement. I’m more like aggra-noyed. That’s a combination of aggravated and annoyed for all you Blockbuster employees out there.

Aside from all of the surgery good times I’m having, something else has happened that, for me, is a really odd thing. A situation has arisen that has started a dialogue between me and my ex-girlfriend. The one that I’ve spoken so ‘highly’ of in the past. The one I haven’t talked to in over four years. We’ve been exchanging e-mails and it is really weird. Now I know it’s not odd to talk to someone you used to date, but I had honestly written her off. I could not have envisioned a time in my life when I would have ever spoken to her again yet here I am.

Here is the relationship in a nutshell. It was the happiest and the most miserable I’ve ever been. Not at the same time of course. When it ended, and trust me, it ended badly, it was the 9-11 of finished relationships. The thing is, for a long time I blamed a lot on her. My inability to get close to women because of my distrust of them. My cynicism concerning relationships. Pretty much every negative thing in my life that concerned personal relationships. Since it’s easier for one to hate someone, that’s exactly what I did. “Oh yeah, she was crazy, that’s why it didn’t work.” I’ve thought a lot about things I’d forgotten recently and it probably wasn’t that there was anything wrong with her. Or me. I mean, yeah, she had her problems, but so did I. The relationship ended because, well, it just didn’t work. I wish I could pin it on something negatively tangible, but I just can’t. I have a hard time believing that sometimes, for no reason, things just don’t work out. However, that’s what happened. In all reality it didn’t work because she is smarter than me. She was more focused and driven than I was at the time. Aside from it not being me, she knew what she wanted and knew what she had to do to get it. That’s one of things I found attractive about her.

Things are going good for her and that makes me happy. She is married and is close to getting her masters and will eventually get her doctorate. That’s not a surprise, she is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, and I’m not saying that because she stopped dating me, even though that’s a really good indication. She’s a sweetheart and I am sorry it didn’t work out, but I know the right decision was made. Perhaps now that we’re talking again we might become friends. After all, she was my best friend for a while. They say that women are five years more mature than men of the same age. Since I believe that’s true I think I was five years too early in meeting her. I’m okay with that. Lesson learned. What lesson? To date young girls from now on. Not like ‘Dateline’ young you perv.

Then again I might have written all of that because I’m really high on Lortab right now.

Either way, it’s true.

RIGHT NOW

SONG - I Can’t Decide by the Scissor Sisters - I can’t list specifics as to why they are good, so I won’t.

MOVIE - The Empire Strikes Back - Because who doesn’t love a Tauntaun?

- Joel Decker

www.myspace.com/joeldavidd

Having recently gone back and read some of what I written I realized it is a testament to the fact that drugs are bad. Keep in mind I’m not doing any illegal drugs. I’m just taking pills prescribed by my doctor for pain. Pain pills if you will. The downside to ingesting opiates as a way to sit for any length of time is that my writing suffers. Well, ‘suffers’ in this case is subjective because in order for something to suffer, something had to be well or good to begin with, and I think it’s pretty evident that my writing is far from both of those things. Meandering is a good way to describe my writing style. Meandering depression with a healthy dose of self loathing. Yeah. That’s just about the best way to describe it.

I have been off of work for quite some time now as I am pretty ill. The upside is that I’m not at work. The downside is a series of painful surgeries and my potential back-of-my-leg modeling career has been shattered. Why god?! Why?! People ask what I do all day since I’m on disability so without further adieu, I present to you A Day in the Life of Joel: Disability Edition.

I woke up at around eight a.m. and hobbled to the shower for the first of three daily wound cleansings that have become part of my routine. After putting the tarp over the field (that’s what I call it when I cover my wound) I took a pain pill and laid on the couch for a couple of hours watching mind numbing daytime TV. I really miss Katie Couric. Why couldn’t Anne Curry have gotten Katie’s job? She is much smarter than Meredith Viera, not to mention way more attractive than Meredith. What was I talking about? How meandering this thing is? I wasn’t? Oh yeah. What I spent today doing.

After I watched the Price is Right, and offered up profanity laced verbal criticism of contestants too stupid to know how games like Plinko or Hole-In-One (Or Two!) work, I made some breakfast. As I’m a vegetarian my breakfast consists of a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of V-8. That’s not the best combination of foods, in case you were wondering. It’s like peanutty-ketchup weirdness in your mouth.

After that taste treat I crashed on the couch until about noon. That’s when my roommate woke up and as he works from home and his computer is in the dining room, I just headed upstairs so as not to bother him with my crap television watching. I’m pretty sure it would be hard to accomplish any type of quality work while having to hear Maury Povich screaming, “You are NOT the father!” followed by the sound of some hunk of white trash crying like a weeny because she just can’t seem to figure out which of the twenty guys she was with over a two night period might most likely have fathered her sure-to-be-in-prison-in-the-future child.

I checked my e-mail, took another pill and watched House M.D. I started watching that show today, and I know that I’m pretty pop culturally inept, but I really enjoy that show. I know it’s been on for a couple of years but back off! I like it because it doesn’t seem to have the soap opera angle that other medical shows have. Then again I’ve only made it partially through the first disc of the first season. I would have finished it but the disc is jacked up so I’ll have to hobble into Blockbuster and deliver a staph infected beat down to the guy who works there. I’m not gonna do that. Thems is the drugs talking!

After a few hours of that I slept for awhile and now here I am, writing this excuse for why you’ve wasted five minutes of your life.

Nothing special at all. Wait! That’s not true. I finished my latest round of antibiotics two days ago and like clockwork there is another growth. That’s just delightful. I think that my illness is going to put my surgeons’s kid through college. Just remember me, kid who won’t read this. When you’re drinking it up at the Sigma Chi house it was my illness that helped get you there. Well my illness and the dedication of your father, but for the sake of the paragraph, let’s assume I’m owed some thanks.

I know that this isn’t cancer or AIDS or anything as serious as that, but from what I understand I could die from this. If it reaches my blood I’m done for. If it reaches my lungs, I’m done for. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen. I can’t die yet. I have way too much to do.

Like finish watching House.

RIGHT NOW

SONG - In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel - This is a song that makes me want to slow dance with my wife at sunset. Keep in mind I don’t have a wife and am not the best dancer. However, it’s not the first time a song has made me want to do something impossible. It’s like how whenever I listen to Jay-Z’s ‘Dirt of Your Shoulder’, I wish I was black.

MOVIE - Lucky Number Slevin - I was impressed with this movie because I don’t expect much out of Josh Hartnett. As I’m sure that his entire career revolves around impressing some guy he’ll never meet, I’m sure that will come as a comfort to him.

- Joel David
myspace.com/joeldavidd

Usually I have a good reason for my not writing. This time it’s surgery induced apathy. Well not apathy so much as excruciating pain coupled with massive amounts of body and mind numbing narcotics. I hate to keep bringing the surgery thing up but that’s about all that’s been going on.

This series of surgeries has cost me a lot. Not financially but mentally. I am sleeping almost all of the time because of the infection and when I’m not sleeping I am in a drug fueled haze. That’s never good. Well not NEVER but you know what I mean.

I am so bored right now. How bored? Well here’s how bored.

Since I have spent the past few weeks mired in self reflection with a generous amount of regret, I will spend EVERYDAY writing about someone or something that I think is worthy about writing about. Maybe in the future someone will read this and decide to write a movie about my paltry existence. I could do that you say? Yeah but that takes effort and sitting and I am low on effort and way too incapacitated to sit for too long.

Ok. Let’s start with me since I am who is writing this. There isn’t much to say about me really. Nothing special. I’m just a regular guy with a regular job and a regular car who lives in a regular apartment. Since everyone has dreams I’ll just go ahead and share mine with you. You’re welcome.

I would like to be a successful comedy writer. Whether it’s for television or a movie I really don’t care. The holy grail would be SNL but with each passing day that seems to get further and further away. Not because it can’t happen but because I’m a wuss. I’ve submitted some of what I’ve written and was told that my writing was ‘too gentle’. That pissed me off. I mean it was a piece about puppy dogs and baby chicks, but I digress.

I have done standup but I don’t think I’m that good. I’m always second guessing myself when I’m on stage. A lot of people say it takes a lot of courage to get on stage. If I can do it, I’d have to say it takes next to no courage. I’ve been called a lot of things but courageous is definitely not one of them. I can get on stage and perform but I can’t talk to a girl. How does that work? What level of social retardation is that indicative of? That’s an SRL (Social Retardation Level) of 9 out of 10 I believe.

As far as relationships go I am an utter failure. I can get into one but it always falls apart. I say ‘always’ like it’s more than the handful that it is, but one need only shoot themselves in the foot once before they decide guns are a bad idea, right? I would like to have a girlfriend or a wife but I just don’t see that happening and I’m cool with that, mostly because I have to be. I believe that perfect relationships exist but have yet to be in one myself. In my adult life I have only met three women that I felt I had a connection with and that if not for mitigating circumstances or my own failures as a human being, I would probably be pretty happy as far as that aspect of one’s life is concerned.

Since it is inconsequential, I will go ahead and now explain what I think an ideal relationship is. I know that in the future whoever I date will probably use this against me, but it’s not like she can get mad at me now because I don’t even know her. Take that future lady!

I would like to be with someone who makes me laugh. A relationship without laughter is pointless. I’ve been with someone who must have thought laughing would have made her face break because she so rarely did so. Then again perhaps I really am not that funny. What am I talking about?! That’s the one thing I know to be true about myself! There is something very refreshing about a pretty girl laughing. I’m not talking about the polite chuckle that women seem so prone to use for fear of what I’m still not quite sure. I would like to be in a relationship where we have inside jokes or where even just a look will illicit laughter. I know that most women laugh at me by just looking at me so I’m halfway there!

I would like to be in a relationship with someone who was less critical of me than I am of myself. I’ve been with someone who criticized everything about me. Whether it was my friends, my looks, my family, my car or my dreams, pretty much everything was up for criticism as far as she was concerned. I know that it was a result of her low self esteem but being someone who thought that they might be able to boost that person’s self esteem was what kept me there. I thought I could fix someone who in all reality didn’t want to be fixed. You can only help those who want it I suppose and that was a lesson learned the hard way, but it was learned. So yeah. Someone who isn’t critical would be sweet.

I would like to be in a relationship with someone who can be trusted. I know that is a given but almost every person I’ve been with has been deceitful in some way. Whether it was about them seeing someone else or the way they really felt about me, their deceit has had a profound impact on me. It makes it real hard to trust someone I care about when the people I have put the most trust in deceive me.

I am off to now learn how to play the violin to accompany my whining.

Holla.

- Joel David

I know that the travails of a loser such as myself can be monotonous at times for one to read about, especially seeing as how the writing I’ve recently done was little more than me pandering for your vote so I can win the humorous blog of the year award at the Okie Blog awards. This is the only award I’ve been nominated for so feel free to vote. There I go pandering again. I feel like a Republican at an NAACP meeting.

Now I know that if you’ve taken the time to read this you deserve better than a thinly veiled plea for self validation. Heck, even I would want to read something better if I were reading this. I guess I could make up a great story about how I recently met my soul mate after striking up a conversation with her after seeing her at Barnes & Noble and noticing that she was listening to Ben Folds on her iPod while reading Chuck Klosterman’s latest. Ok, so that wouldn’t be all that great of a story for you to read about, but as far as my imagination goes right now, that’s all the fantastic scenario I can muster right now. Why the lack of quality concerning my imagination? I had surgery again this past Friday. That makes three surgeries in one month.

I was diagnosed as having a pretty severe staph infection about a month ago. They don’t know why I have it. The mysterious staph was found to be the cause of my first and second surgeries, which were exactly one week apart. I had an abscess on the back of each of my legs. I was beginning to heal and thought everything was fine until this past Thursday. I went to the doctor and he informed me that the area of the first wound was not healing right so he wanted to go in and do another surgery to remedy the problem. And so began another great surgery story.

I was told by the nurse to show up the next day for the procedure. I asked if it was the same thing and she said it was. I thought that meant I was to show up at the same place. This was not the case. I got to the hospital at seven a.m. with my mom in tow. I felt bad that she had to get up that early, but I’m good at feeling guilty about things I need not feel guilty about. When I went to the admission desk the woman said that I wasn’t scheduled but that they would add me since I’d been there twice already. I went back to the outpatient surgery area and changed into the hospital gown, or as I call it, the gown of the damned.

I laid in the bed half asleep as it was so early, waiting to have an IV put in. The nurse walked in and was looking for a vein and before she proceeded she verified my name. She then said “So you’re here for a colonoscopy?” That woke me up. I told her that I was definitely NOT there for the rectum-rooter. I didn’t use those words but I thought it was funny just now so you’re welcome. She left the room and made a phone call to my doctor. She found out that I was at the wrong place. They rescheduled my surgery for later that afternoon at the correct location.

I was not too pleased but a rescheduled surgery beats a colonoscopy, hands down. So I came back home, took a nap and woke up a few hours later and headed back to the correct location. When I arrived, they made me disrobe and put on the gown of the damned again. This gown was different though. This time the gown was purple and I had to put on socks that resembled baby booties that had little bear paw prints on them, which were also purple. To top off this wonderful ensemble was a hair net.

So here I was dressed like a women’s prison cafeteria worker waiting, again, to get an IV put in. They brought my mom back from the waiting room and she said she wished she had a camera. That’s when I thought about the posterity aspect that all cameras offer. Because my thought process is odd at best, I realized that as I was about to go into surgery that there was the possibility, as many people before me have come to find out the hard way, that I may not come out alive. That’s a gloomy prospect especially seeing as how there was a chance I would be ushered into the afterlife wearing a purple cloth robe and socks one might find in a seven year old girl’s wardrobe. Thank God my mom didn’t have a camera, if for nothing more than that if she did have one and I did die, the last picture of me would be one of the saddest things ever. Not because it would be the last picture of me alive, but because I was dressed like the poorest transvestite ever. At least I’m pretty sure that’s how a poor transvestite might dress.

As my mom and I sat there waiting for the surgeon to arrive, we overheard a conversation that doesn’t illicit confidence in one’s abilities in their field of expertise. We heard two nurses discussing the best way to put medicine in an IV. One of them said that she was sure it was two parts of one and one part of another. The other nurse said “Well I’m really not sure. I’m not one of those ‘read directions’ type of people.” And the first nurse replied with “Yeah, I know what you mean.” This freaked me out a bit. I mean this isn’t the type of conversation you want to hear at a restaurant before eating a meal, let alone right before surgery. At a restaurant the worst case scenario is that your food may taste odd. If someone gets their directions mixed up before surgery and pumps some crazy medicinal concoction into my veins, that probably would annoy me a little more than a bad meal might.

The surgeon showed up and did the procedure and I went home. I wish that I could go into more detail about those hours but it really is all a blur. What I didn’t know was that to make sure the wound healed right, and to make sure the tissue wouldn’t get infected, they cut a perfect circle about two inches in diameter and about a centimeter deep. It really is painful and unpleasant.

As a result of this latest in a series of operations, I was unable to go to the Flaming Lips show Friday night. I was so looking forward to seeing that show and I really can’t put into many more words how truly upset I was that I couldn’t go. On top of not being able to go see one of my favorite bands, a friend of mine called me on Friday with some news that made not going to see the show even worse. I hadn’t talked to him in a while so he really had no idea what was going on with me, medically speaking. He asked me excitedly “Are you ready for tonight?!” I told him I had to tell him something. Again he said “No man I’VE got news for you about the show!” I said ok and asked what it was. Because my friend has strong ties to the band, he had gotten me an all access back stage pass to the show. He was thrilled about it. This compounded my disappointment and made me want to jump out of a window. I told him I couldn’t make it. He knew how disappointed I was. He said he would try to get me a signed something or other. I hope he did. That would be cool.

If a lot of this seems meandering, keep in mind I’m doped out of mind on pain pills right now. It’s the only way I can possibly sit for more than ten minutes and not be in excruciating pain.

So this is how I am spending my days now. Having to nurse a wound the size of Montana because of a mystery infection that no one is sure how I got. It’s not all bad though. I have been watching a lot of Three’s Company and recently read two Chuck Klosterman books. I will probably get his latest within the next couple of weeks when I’m able to drive again. Hopefully nothing else happens.

I have decided that I have good luck at really bad things. That’s a positive spin right?

RIGHT NOW

SONG - Let Me Talk to You Prelude / My Love by Justin Timberlake. I’ll blame this on my Lortab intake and not my sometimes questionable taste in music.

MOVIE - The Empire Strikes Back. If I have to explain that, then I’m sorry you’re not a dork like me.

BOOK - Killing Yourself to Live : 85% of a True Story by Chuck Klosterman. I picked this book up a couple of days ago and have already finished it. That’s good for me especially since there weren’t any pictures in it. Just a side note as a testament to the self imposed idiocy that rules my life. I picked this book up right before I went to have surgery at the Border’s on NW Expressway. The girl behind the counter asked if I was a fan of Klosterman and I told her I was. She said she was too and told me about his newest book. I actually think she was kind of flirting with me. Because I was an hour from having surgery and my mom was standing at the door waiting for me, I had all the conversational pimpitude of, well, myself on any other day of the week. She was quite cute and if she reads Klosterman that’s awesome. The fact she can read means she has way more going for her then the last girl I dated. And that’s the beginning and end of that relationship. I need to nurture relationships that last longer than a commercial transaction. She was really cute. Oh well.

FAKE THANKS - I would like to thank everyone for all the cards I’ve received! Thanks people! No. Really.

Holla.

- Joel

www.myspace.com/joeldavidd

For the first time ever I have been nominated for an award! “I didn’t know they gave awards for biggest losers.” Shut up imaginary foe.

I have been nominated for an Okie Blogger award. The Okie Blogger awards are annual awards recognizing excellence in blogging. I was nominated in the ‘Best Humor Blog’ category. Take that all those girlfriends, complete strangers and dad who never thought I’d amount to anything!

The awards are handed out based on YOUR votes so go to http://okiedoke.com/ok/06awards/oba06.htm and vote for my blog.

Also vote for The Two-Headed Blog as they are much smarter than me and also nominated in the ‘Best Commentary’ blog category.

The Look @ OKC blogs were nominated in the ‘Best Corporate Blog’ category so kudos to all the 3E’s and Fashion Divas.

Help me out and give my life some much needed validation and vote away!

- Joel David

http://okiedoke.com/ok/06awards/oba06.htm

I recently finished watching the 2006 MTV Video Music Awards. Why I keep putting myself through this torture year after year is beyond me. I’m like some sort of entertainment masochist. I always approach the Video Music Awards with a sense of anticipation but am well aware that it could and probably will suck. Kind of like when I was a kid and looked forward to Christmas every year only for December to arrive and realize I was a Jehovah’s Witness. At least thats what my parents told me to get out of buying me gifts.

I figured the award show wouldn’t be all bad seeing as how Jack Black was hosting and he’s funny. Right? Well MTV apparently has the power to suck the funny out of almost anyone. Damn you MTV! Jack Black wasn’t the worst host the show has had. Jimmy Fallon hosted a few years ago and I can’t blame MTV for his not being funny. He was just born that way.

The show started with Justin Timberlake, or as I call him, the black Michael Jackson, performing a song from his upcoming album. I don’t care how lame a fella this next statement makes me sound but I like Justin. He is clearly the new king of pop. His performance was probably the best of the night with Beyonce’s a close second. I dunno if I’m saying that because it was good or because I want to marry Beyonce, but does it really matter? Take the compliment Beyonce! Also, this is a message for Beyonce. Look, if you ever get tired of dating the ultra successful genius that is Jay-Z or if he messes up and you want to make him jealous, just know I’ll probably be available. Just hit me up because I’m sure nothing would piss Jay off more than knowing you were dating a chunky white loser. Everyone wins. He gets jealous and I get to date you. Ok, so maybe you don’t win but that’s what you get for dating me. Sorry Beyonce, but thems the breaks kiddo.

I loved the OK GO performance. I also liked Christina Aguilera’s performance. Sure it was good but something happened during the performance that made me laugh. The main stage had a catwalk that jutted out into the crowd so the crowd was eye level with the feet of the performers. As Christina made her way down the catwalk some moron reached up and grabbed a hold of the hem of her dress. I don’t know if it was a leper who thought that Christina had Christ like healing powers or if it was just a dope. I’m gonna go with dope. What exactly is the thought process of someone who does that? “Oohhh! I can reach out and grab Christina’s dress while she’s singing! That should impress her! I mean if someone grabbed the visor off of my head at Mc Donald’s while I was working I’d be impressed!” Morons.

One of the few, and by few I really am reaching, highlights of the evening was that the Raconteurs played short versions of their songs throughout the night in between presenters or when the show returned from commercial. That was sweet. At one point they had Lou Reed playing with them and then later they had Billy Gibbons from ZZ Top. While that may have seemed like a cool idea in theory, I promise you that ninety-nine percent of MTV’s core audience thought Lou Reed was just some old dude and Billy Gibbons was a terrorist. “Why is Osama Bin what’s his face playing the guitar?” Putting those two in front of that crowd probably garnered the same perplexity as if one were to hand an iPod to an old person. “Is this to help keep me regular?!”

What happened to old fashioned rock n’ roll controversy? Remember when the guy from Rage Against The Machine climbed that weird sculpture? Remember when Eminem got into a scuffle with Triumph? What about the year that 50 Cent yelled at the crew that was Fat Joe? Those were situations that were kind of interesting when broadcast live but that MTV edited out for rebroadcast. I guess rock n’ roll controversy is edited out in post nowadays. Thanks for keeping it real MTV!

I reached a point where I wanted anything of interest to happen. Al Gore came out at one point to show pictures of glaciers, because if it’s one thing that fans of Paris Hilton and Laguna Beach care about, it’s the environment. Al Gore took the stage after the cast of Jackass had presented an award and I was actually hoping that Wee-Man from Jackass would run up to Al Gore and punch him in the crotch. I voted for Gore and would do it again but dammit if that wouldn’t have made the show a whole lot more interesting.

The closest thing to controversy came at the end of the three hour and twenty minute show when that guy who looks like Lebron James that crashes almost all awards shows highjacked the stage and was somehow piped into the sound system. He took presenter J. Lo off guard and went ahead and starting talking about how he never got a show on MTV and shouted his website’s name right before he got taken off of the stage. It is really kind of disturbing that this guy can get into supposed high security situations. Maybe awards show directors looking for controversy or something to generate any interest for people watching, just keep that dude on standby. “Yeah, show sucks, I know. I guess go get that guy who looks like Lebron for a ‘surprise’ appearance.”

Other ‘highlights’? Recently free from incarceration Lil Kim took the stage in an orange jumpsuit then took it off and said “You can’t keep a good bi–h down!” Isn’t jail cool kids? She also thanked everyone who stood by her during her struggle in prison. She’s not Nelson Mandela. I had mono longer than she was in jail. She’s not some hard core rapper either who went to jail for capping someone over a drug deal gone awry. She went to prison on perjury charges. I don’t seem to remember perjury being a sign of a hard core gangsta from the hood but I guess times have changed.

At the end of the show, Axl Rose took the stage to introduce The Killers. Axl looked like that forty-six year old creepy guy from your neighborhood who lives with his mom and drives a Trans Am with only one t-top because one got stolen. The guy you can always tell is about to arrive in your neighborhood because you can hear him blasting Skid Row from his tape deck three blocks away. The guy who has a tattoo that says something like “Class of ‘77 Forever” over a fire breathing dragon that is smoking pot with a naked lady on it’s back while flying over a rainbow. The type of guy who mows his lawn wearing nothing but cut off jean shorts while holding a can of beer and smoking a Marlboro. The kind of weirdo that hangs out in front of his garage with a battered foam ice chest full of Natural Lite beer. The type of dude that will tell you all about Vietnam, even though he was only there for a week before getting shot in the arm and “Taking one for Uncle Sam.” The guy who goes out of his way to give intimate details about the women he’s slept with in his life. The guy who feels that life has done him wrong and how it’s not his fault all women hate him. “It’s just the way I choose to live my life man. Women can’t deal with it.” Guys with names like Kenny or, well, Axl.

I know that everyone has the choice whether or not to watch something but with something like the MTV awards you kind of hope that something relevant will happen. You kind of hope it won’t suck and that the whole night won’t be a waste of time peppered with shout outs to God from some talentless individual. The Pussycat Dolls won an award for crying out loud. The Pussycat Dolls? Spice Girls 2?

Award shows aren’t good. I know that. I guess I just expect a little more from an awards show on a network that was once synonymous with youthful rebellion. I grew up in a home where my parents wouldn’t let me watch MTV because it might turn me into a devil worshiping heathen. My future children will grow up not being allowed to watch MTV because it sucks.

There were plenty of other things wrong with the show. No one mentioned the troops in Iraq. No one mentioned that our president sucks or that New Orleans is still in a state of disarray a full year after Hurricane Katrina. I guess it’s hard to remember things that matter when your blinged out, thanking God, your producers and your management team.

I have a whole year left to anticipate disappointment. Please prove me wrong MTV. Please.

I have to go now and watch fifty episodes of NEXT and Pimp My Ride.

- Joel David

I would like to thank God for this blog entry. Big ups God! I would also like to thank all the people who supported me for the last twenty minutes as I wrote this. I gots to thank my moms. Thanks moms! Uh, who else? Jacob. Chad. Mookie Boombastic the wickedest emcee who be holdin it down for the four oh five! Represent! Mr. Dawg 1 for keeping it real! Pharell for providing me with dope beats. Beyonce, you my girl. All the fans. Thanks. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you guys. Uh, oh gosh, who am I forgetting? Hype Williams for directing this blog. You the best dawg! My manager Rick. The people at Ch Kona Entertainment. Everyone at Newsok.com. Melissa, Lindsey, Tay, Jaqueline, Ron. Props to Alan for making this thing a reality. Be on the look out for my new blog entry which drops next week! Holla!