Intermission: MySpace and the New Blog

If you're reading this then you seriously can't get over my departure, and I should probably look into filing a restraining order. Or, you're somehow who used to like this site and decide to pop in every once in a while in order to see if I updated. Either way, who the fuck cares?

Yes, this site is pretty much dead. I hate looking at it. It reminds me of those old poems you would write in high schoo, thinking they would somehow help you woo a certain girl -- only, she couldn't care less, and winds up fucking the jerk who misspells his own name. So, what do I do?

Well, I have a MySpace page now. You can be my friend there -- I have a few blog posts up, and I'm trying to inch my way back into that game.

Also, I'm probably going to start a new blog soon. I'm sick of writing about movies all the time, and I need a new place to vent. So, swing by my myspace page (I feel so gay writing that) and there will probably be an announcement over there. Or maybe here. Or maybe nowhere.

I sincerely hope all my old blog friends are doing well, and I look forward to seeing you all soon.


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1:46 pm on Mar 21,2007 in Life Sucks | Permalink | Feed Me (38) | TrackBack (0)

The One Where We Get A Puppy

Okay, so I'm here and I'm there, but I promise you: As soon as I get my shit together and get back on schedule, I will post more often. Anyway the wife and I just got a puppy. Crazy shit, huh? I will post pics soon, but (and I can't believe I'm being this fucking cheesy) the thing is the cutest fucking puppy you will ever see in your life.

Fuck those other puppies. Fuck every dog that exists on this planet. My puppy fucking rocks! For those interested, we got a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and named it Leia ... after, well, those of you who know me should know where that name came from.

So, in short: I'm fucking wiped out. We're in training phase which, for those of you who have pets, know that this fucking sucks. No sleep. No nothing. I have a fucking kid. Ugh. Yeah, so I'm busy training the best fucking puppy in the history of the universe, as well as writing for

Oh, and did I mention I was in the LA Times. Yup, some reporter wanted to talk to me -- Fat Dude. Finally, the world is catching on to the fact that I fucking rock the shit.

Till next time,

the f dude

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10:24 pm on Aug 22,2006 in Life Sucks | Permalink | Feed Me (37) | TrackBack (6)

My Summer Vacation

Now that I'm working from home, I don't have much to complain about. There are no annoying, disgusting, fat, bald, smelly employees breathing down my back. I have my own office ... with a window! Private kitchen. Private bathroom. There's a TV, but I don't put it on during the day because it becomes distracting.

Damn you One Life to Live!

There's no phone ringing. There's no boss. There's, well, nothing. Except me, my computer and I. As you can imagine, I've already started talking to myself. Oh yeah, it's a blast.

Random Brain Fart: This movie looks fucking awesome!

Yeah, so I'm talking to myself a lot now. And I run the air conditioner all day long. Oh, and I'm moving. To Queens. Yeah, I don't know why either.

It's weird though because now that I am away from everyone, I kind of miss talking to people. I'm not depressed -- oh no -- it's just, I guess I'm a little lonely.

Bah! I have a headache. I'll write more tomorrow. Thanks to those of you still reading.


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3:23 pm on Jul 26,2006 in Life Sucks | Permalink | Feed Me (11) | TrackBack (4)

Where Do I Begin?

First off, I'm amzaed you morons still read this blog every now and then. Secondly, I'm happy to see you're all still around and safe and not dead.

Not sure who, if any, of you read Cinematical. For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, Cinematical is a movie news blog owned by AOL and part of the Weblogs Inc. network of blogs. Throw on a .com at the end of Cinematical and you will find the website I've been writing for for about a year now. It's fun. They pay me. I'm actually doing that full time now ever since I quit my job.

Why did I quit my job?

Well, I can't really say. I did nothing illegal and no one died, which is what my friend Schmeckel tells me every time we discuss the whole job thing. Nothing illegal. No one died. Regardless, I hated that place anyway and so, in the long run, this is a good thing.

Am I still married? Did I knock my wife up yet?

Yes. And no.

While I'm not crazy about this blog and feel the look needs a major change, for now I will continue to write on a somewhat daily basis. So, please, ignore everything around you like the links and the pictures and the poll - for now, none of that shit is going to change. I just need to write.

I need to blow off some steam. Please don't be angry if I'm not on your blog and commenting and all that stupid blog shit that comes along with having a blog. I just need to write. So, feel free to stop by here from time to time and read what I have to say.

I've missed you all. The last few months have been a trip. When and if I ever move locations (ie: another .com name), I will let you know all that has happened. Fucking complete moronic brilliance.

Fuck the world cup. Soccer sucks.


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12:43 pm on Jul 22,2006 in Life Sucks | Permalink | Feed Me (6) | TrackBack (3)

Holy Fucking Shit Mother Cocksucker -- He's Back!

Everyone needs some times off. Everyone needs a break. After several months away from the blogging world, I've decided to make some gigantic fucking return -- except no one reads this blog anymore, so it's not really gigantic. It's, like, semi-gigantic. Or not. I'm not sure. Nor do I care.

Some really intense shit went down while I was away, stuff I can't talk about on Fat Eye. I know, it's no excuse, but I ask that you understand as I go through a tranisition in my life. However, here is a brief update on me:

A. I quit my fucking job

B. I'm writing full time, getting paid and that's my fucking job.

C. I turned 29.

D. I still hate everything and everyone.

E. If this post doesn't generate at least three comments, I will blow up the earth.

I'm back.


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3:40 pm on Jul 20,2006 in Life Sucks | Permalink | Feed Me (28) | TrackBack (3)


That's right folks - I'm in Iraq. It's crazy, I know - and it's also why I haven't posted in a long time. No, I didn't join the Army or Navy or Marines and I'm not reporting for a newspaper or in some secret agency - I'm on vacation. Hell yeah! Do you even know how fucking cheap the flights are to Baghdad right now? I scored a round-tripper on Expedia for like 14 bucks!

Of course, internet access isn't really that great right now and when I tried to tell some I guy that I needed to update my blog, I think he thought I was drawing a cartoon about Islam. Not sure how he could confuse the two, but nonetheless, I was taken hostage for about 15 days.

The good thing about being taken hostage is that I didn't have to pay for a room. They fed me a few times a day and one night me and the guys (who were all wearing masks and I told them to take them off because one dude said his was itchy) all bonded and talked old 90210 episodes. I never knew how popular Dylan and Brenda were with terrorists. The crazy shit you learn while on vacation, right?

Anyway, after 15 days, they realized that no one gave two shits about me so they let me go. However, while walking back to my hotel, a police officer thought that, because I was so fat, I was carrying a bomb under my shirt. Wham! 10 days in jail.

Once again, jail was cool because I didn't have to pay for my stay and I was provided a few meals a day...for free! After the officers realized that I was just some fat American, they let me go but made me go straight to the airport. I asked if I could go take a picture of that big Saddam statue that fell because, seriously, that's all us Americans know of Iraq - but they told me that it was no longer there.


Right now I'm in the airport using some guy's laptop who I bribed to let me blog. All in all, I spent a month overseas for just under 30 bucks. Not bad, huh?  I miss you all so so much and I can't wait to get back to the States so that I can blog more often.

Love and kisses!

Yours always,

Fat Dude

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9:05 pm on Mar 7,2006 in Life Sucks | Permalink | Feed Me (29) | TrackBack (0)

That George Carlin Joke

Okay, so it went something the this...

I've never fucked a perfect ten, but I've had sex with five 2's in one night.

I once broke up with a girl over White Castle. Sophomore year of college, there was this girl who was into me hardcore. And you know when she's really into you, especially when no one is ever into you because any, one, tiny, minuscule hint hits you like a hammer.

"Oh, she looked at me but did some sort of slant with her eye. I fucking caught that shit. She's into me!"

It was one of those situations. My roommate had a bunch of friends up and we were drinking an enormous amount of goldschlagger. I'm not sure if that's the correct spelling, but I haven't touched the shit since, so I could give two fucks if I spelled it wrong.

I was wasted. So was she. We hooked up at the elevator, because back then, I was way too lazy to walk a girl back to her dorm. Fuck that - you get the elevator. But she was into me. And so the next night my roommate went home to New Jersey and she came over for a night of pure teenage horny things. We hooked it up in all kinds of different ways and that was that - I was done.

Upon being done, I immediately began to crave white castle. Not sure why - probably because I'm a fat kid. Problem was she wanted to stay over. Really badly. And it became apparent that this is what she wanted to do. She had given me a whole lot and all she wanted was an all night cuddle session.

See, but I wanted fucking white castle. So I had to make a decision: Break up with her, get her out of the room and go to white castle OR stay in bed and cuddle.

Like any real asshole would do, I turned to her and broke it off. I don't know what I said because the white castle craving was doing most of the talking. Needless to say she was crying hysterically - ashamed. And after an hour of tears and apologies, she left.

And I went to white castle.

But she was only a that makes it okay. Right?

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1:55 am on Feb 12,2006 in Life Sucks | Permalink | Feed Me (22) | TrackBack (0)

This post doesn't have a title except for the one I just wrote

Have you ever felt something weird happening?

It's a strange question, I know, and you don't really know where I'm going with it. Most of you will read on just a tad more to see if this post turns into something funny. Right after I finish this sentence, most of those most will drop out because you haven't laughed yet...and you can tell this is going to be one of his weird posts.

I'm surprised at the people who have made it this far. I'm not sure why, there are better blogs to read right about now. Someone just wrote something on their blog, the one with the catchy name - you know which - and it's this long story about the time their cat fell into the toilet. It's much funnier than this post. I'll understand if you want to click out of here now. This post isn't getting any better.

Hey. You're still here. Wow. Cool. Since it's just us, why don't I finish what I was talking about earlier. Ya know, the thing about feeling weird. It's hard to explain, right? Because you feel something and you know for sure you've never felt it before. Or maybe you have, but it was just so long ago now that only fragments feel familiar.

I want to call it an emotion, but I'm not so sure that's it. It's a feeling. Is a feeling an emotion? Does anyone know? And if they know, how can they be sure? Because it's what they think? I'm going to say it feels like an emotion. That's what I'm asking you. That's the something weird.

Well, have you?

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12:30 am on Jan 29,2006 in Life Sucks | Permalink | Feed Me (19) | TrackBack (3)

My Friend Who Likes Peanut Butter

I once knew a guy who liked peanut butter. He didn't just like peanut butter, he loved peanut butter. Lived every waking, breathing, laughing, crying, fucking moment of his life for peanut butter. And that's what made him go. When I'd see him at the grocery story, aisle 6, on Tuesdays at 6:15pm - he'd be buying peanut butter. I'd shake his hand and feel peanut butter. He'd open his mouth and I would smell peanut butter. And when he smiled, I tasted the shit.

My friend rarely went out. Although he never admitted it, I was convined my friend would hide on purpose so that he could masturbate with peanut butter, to peanut butter, right after eating peanut butter and before bathing in it. While he never said one word, not even a hint or a nudge, about peanut butter to me, his friend, of all people - I understood that some creatures needed to keep secrets.

Butter It was reasonably late one night, maybe 8:49pm or somewhere around there. My friend knocked on the front door. I never liked visitors at night because, often, I'd use the time to think about sex...but that's a different story. Possibly the same..I'm not sure. He was upset. But not the kind of upset where you cry and you sigh and search the floor for an answer to a question it was never asked. I'm talking about the kind of hurt you (meaning me) cannot see. Because it's deep. Real fucking deep. Inside the gut, in a dark corner, stuck there for eternity.

It's the kind of hurt that makes you crawl. It makes you leave the safest places for un-explored territory. It makes you come to my place. At 8:49pm...or somewhere around there. And before my friend could even move, blink, breathe, flinch, fucking form one, single complete thought - I knew it was over. I knew he had given it up. The peanut butter.

I shook his hand. I said something that I hope sounded nice or at least inspiring, and sent him on his way. See, because we weren't meant to see each other. We were two completely different heads, on opposite levels. He was down. I was up. And although he was my friend, I never gave him a name. I just tell my wife that's my friend who likes peanut butter.

She thinks that's gross.

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12:56 am on Jan 28,2006 in That Story | Permalink | Feed Me (4) | TrackBack (6)

Black Chicks

I'll talk about black chicks in a second, but first an announcement: I CAN SEE MY FUCKING BLOG AGAIN! I have no idea how it happened, but all of a sudden, I can finally view my blog like a regular blog blogger can do. Now I can finally update the front page so that it doesn't look like I was last on here 6 months ago - although it's a close estimate.

----------------------------------------------------> Black Chicks

I dig black chicks. I don't exactly know why, I just do. But not in a "I wanna screw them all" kind of way - I just love the way they speak. I love the attitude. Black chicks are pissed off at everything and I think it's awesome. I was waiting for a train the other day and I accidentally brushed up against this black chick. So she goes, "Watch where you're walking motherfucker!"

I turned to her and replied, "Please say that again. Please. But put more into it. Maybe you could go, "Why don't you watch it motherfucker because you can't fucking walk worth of fuck shit white fucker." Not only would it sound more original, but I sure would enjoy it.

Black chicks are never wrong. If I walked outside one day and some black chick smacked me over the head with a baseball bat in broad daylight, she would blame it on me.

"Fucking stupid white boy, you walked into that one. I didn't do nuthin. Shiiiiit."

Black chicks have their own language and I adore it. I work with a bunch of black chicks and they have the same conversations us white people have, but they do it with so much more flavor. For example: A white chick would say something like "I met a guy at a club, but he was ugly." Whereas a black chick would go, "I rolled up on some G at da club, but he was all banged up."

I think I wanna be a black chick. I think that, when I die, I wanna come back as some urban black chick with a big ass. If I were some urban black chick with a big ass I would be able to tell everyone to fuck off and suffer no consequences.

The guy in the elevator who smells - "Motherfucker, you stank bitch!"

The woman on the street blabbing on her cell phone - "Bitch, get the fuck off the phone. You're jamming up my shit."

I would blame everything on the white man. Fucking everything. I'd have 20 kids and name all of them after really hard-to-pronounce African countries just to piss off their white math teacher. Life would be grand.

Yup, I dig black chicks.

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8:09 pm on Jan 25,2006 in Life Sucks | Permalink | Feed Me (25) | TrackBack (2)