Fun Guy

VERSE 1

I dance like I’m in a pool that someone dropped a toaster in

I can’t do keg stands or I’ll throw up in the garbage bin

I can’t do the things that will make you confess your sins

To the preacher man when your Sunday morning begins

I haven’t smiled a day since the Reagan administration

I haven’t made love since computer masturbation

The only songs that play for me would bring tears to others’ eyes

And wouldn’t you know it, it’s been so long since I’ve cried

CHORUS 1

I can’t be a fun guy

When serotonin runs dry

Can’t be a party animal

When I sink like a cannonball

Can’t be a fun guy

Can’t be a fun guy

Fun guy, fun guy

Fun guy, fun guy

VERSE 2

You say you’re leaving my side because I bring you down so much

You say I’m on the edge of giving myself the finishing touch

You say you need a guy who has a million in change and isn’t so strange

You say you need a guy who doesn’t come off as sad and deranged

I say don’t let the door hit you on the ass when you leave

A half-hour friendship was a lifetime filled with being deceived

I wish you well and let me tell you one thing right before you go

My depression and rejection are less than one percent of what you know

CHORUS 1

I can’t be a fun guy

When serotonin runs dry

Can’t be a party animal

When I sink like a cannonball

Can’t be a fun guy

Can’t be a fun guy

Fun guy, fun guy

Fun guy, fun guy

BRIDGE X2

I didn’t choose the darkness

The darkness chose me

I could have been a fun guy

If not for fucked up brain chemistry

CHORUS 2

I can’t be a fun guy

When serotonin runs dry

Can’t be a party animal

When I sink like a cannonball

It ain’t fun for me either

When someone else is the leader

Grabbing me by the throat

Use my blood to write a special note

Can’t be a fun guy

Can’t be a fun guy

Fun guy, fun guy

Fun guy! Fun guy!

It's Only Offensive When I Do It

It’s only offensive when I have a crush

I’m the only one with a reverse Midas touch

It’s only offensive when I crack a joke

It’s only funny when my dreams go up in smoke

It’s only offensive when I seek out friends

Rejection and turmoil never seem to end

It’s only offensive when I write my lines

I’m the only one worthy of a hundred dollar fine

Nothing about my lonely life is ordinary

The blood on my hands is not sanitary

I don’t look like you, I don’t talk like you

I’m the only one with a shit-load to prove

It’s only offensive when I take a stand

My painful screams echo across the land

It doesn’t matter anyways, nobody hears me

Everybody in this world fucking fears me

I’m a walking weapon of mass destruction

Who’s in desperate need of liposuction

Never once mastered the art of seduction

Never once needed a proper introduction

I sold my soul to the devil, the underworld level

My favorite escape is hard rock and heavy metal

I don’t need to contribute to your society

I’ll keep building my dreams ever so quietly

It’s only offensive when I’m the one who does it

So offensive it brings the world to destruction

Socially awkward is the name of my game

Everything else would be too fucking tame

Tristan Jealous

VERSE 1

Dr. Jealous, what has become of me?

Can you give me something to set me free?

A shot of horse to keep me cheery and bright?

A can of caffeine to keep me up all night?

Laziness and comfort, my two best friends

A friendship this close rarely ever ends

Can you scrape me out of my bed?

So I can meet my goals, keep my ego fed?

VERSE 2

Dr. Jealous, I have something to prove

I need my fix to keep me on the move

I came to the protest with my cardboard sign

And a pocket of pills to make me feel fine

I can face the world one demon at a time

But all at once? That’s the steepest climb

Here comes the circus, here come the clowns

Not one safe space in this crumbling town

VERSE 3

Dr. Jealous, do you think she likes me?

Is this dangerous risk even worth trying?

Pop a Xanax or two, maybe even three

Only then will she see the best of me

I sit in the park trying to remain calm

Another day’s dosage in my shaking palm

Maybe I should turn and walk away

Save my courage for yet another day

BRIDGE

Tristan Jealous, I’m overzealous

I’m feeling a little bit rebellious

Call a medic, yes, I said it

My chart is in need of an edit

I cannot take this, I cannot fake it

I’m not sure if I can even make it

Doctor, doctor, help me out now

‘Cause I’m not ready to bow down

VERSE 4

Dr. Jealous, I can’t reach the phone

I’m trapped in this white cell all alone

The nurses told me over and over again

That I’ll be free when eternity ends

Everyone here is blending together

Washed away like stormy weather

Dr. Jealous, I’m calling your name

Please tell them that I’m not to blame

Sex Surrogate

VERSE 1

It’s been forever since our last session

Not much going on that’s worth mention

I still coast through life at a turtle’s pace

I still have my famous Resting Bitch Face

Should’ve called you when I had the chance

Not much happening in the way of romance

How many more sessions am I allowed to have?

Can we still meet for at least an hour and a half?

VERSE 2

I’m sorry I’m late, but traffic was a mess

I’m sorry for these excuses I must confess

I got cold feet and stalled for a while

I might as well be walking the green mile

We all know how this session will end

I can’t be cured, but I can make amends

I’m sorry I’m not who you want me to be

Whether in bed or in life, nothing is free

VERSE 3

I must admit that I’m starting to like you

I’m sorry if this confession frightens you

I know we can’t have romantic feelings

But it’s a desire which I’ve been feeding

You’re married and happy, I understand

Reciprocation isn’t something I demand

I just had to get it all off my chest today

What a wonderful time to feel so brave

VERSE 4

This isn’t working, give me back my pills

This never ending pain is mine to kill

Sedated and jaded, everything has faded

Nothing left after my ego has deflated

The comfort zone is calling my name

It tells me to stop playing these sex games

It tells me that taking risks is foolish

Maybe I’ll listen until the day I’m ghoulish

Quicksand Dance Floor

VERSE 1

When you stand next to her, you start to shiver

You feel the coldness of a raging white river

You feel the illness of a rollercoaster rider

You feel the depression, you’re sick and tired

Shrug it off; it’s just a first world problem

You and the world have nothing in common

Put it in perspective, because it works every time

Ignore the heartache and the tears in your eyes

CHORUS 1

This is your life for the next thirty years

This is your sadness for the next hundred tears

Welcome to the quicksand dance floor, my friend

You lost your soul to a coming of age trend

VERSE 2

You missed your chance to be a bona fide stud

Now everyone is laughing at you like Elmer Fudd

Dante could never survive this brutal comedy

You could never survive this mental sodomy

You kick yourself repeatedly for never being brave

To your own disaster, you are the humble slave

Don’t worry, you wouldn’t want her anyways

She’ll scream in your ear every night and every day

CHORUS 2

This is your life until you’re old and cold

You always did as your detractors told

Welcome to the quicksand dance floor, old man

The corner is there, do something with your hands

BRIDGE

It’s too late to take her hand

It’s too late to join her band

It’s too late to rise from the sand

Your magnum opus was critically panned

VERSE 3

Turn back the clock to the very last hour

Before you kicked the bouquet and became sour

A simple question for the lovely lady

Yes or no? You could settle for maybe

CHORUS 3

This is your life with your newfound wife

You’re wearing a suit, she’s wearing white

Turn your back to the quicksand dance floor

Run wild and free while asking for more

Brutally Honest Dating Profile

***BRUTALLY HONEST DATING PROFILE***

There used to be a time where I would frown and pout at the idea of not having a girlfriend, especially one of celebrity status. Ridiculous, right? I think so too. At this point in my life, I couldn’t care less about the dating scene. I care even less than that about online dating. I’ve tried it several times with no success and I’m ready to say, “Fuck it, I’m done”. I have so little compassion for online dating that if I ever decide to make a profile for a place like OK Cupid, Plenty of Fish, E-Harmony, or any of those other sites, I’m going to take the Buzz Feed route and be brutally honest about all aspects of my life. For the sake of real life, I’m going to use my birth name instead of my penname. So without further ado, let’s get on with the Brutally Honest Dating Profile. It goes like this:

　

“Who is Garrison Haines-Temons? Most people don’t know, because they only see the surface of who I am: an out of shape and socially awkward man child with the worst case of allergies and the wrong answers to every socially acceptable question. If you’ve made it this far into my profile, I applaud you for not running away like a scream queen from a 1980’s horror movie.

The most common question I get asked by strangers is what I do for a living. If I wanted to be a funny guy, I could tell you that I work with impoverished children in the Democratic Republic of None of Your Damn Business. But that wouldn’t be the honest answer. The honest answer is, I’m an amateur writer who gets social security benefits for not only being schizophrenic and autistic, but also for having retired parents. I don’t go around telling people that because the person I’m talking to could either be a tea-bagging republican who judges poor people or a potential girlfriend who only dates men for their money and cars. If you’re going to judge me, do it on my character and not on my economic status. I’m sure I’m not the only one who thinks relationships are built on love and honesty instead of shallowness and greed.

What exactly is my character? The good news is, behind all of this social weirdness, I have a creative side to me. As I’ve said earlier, I’m an unpaid writer, but I also like to draw pictures of brutally violent warriors and take photographs of my toy collection and my animals. If there’s a creative project, I can get it done in style. For a while, I played the piano. I don’t do it much anymore, but the musical bug will come back to bite me soon enough.

What about my interests? Aside from expanding my creative outlets, I also love to watch professional wrestling, read books, and listen to heavy metal music. I used to play a lot of videogames, but ever since getting the shit kicked out of me multiple times by a lava dragon in Final Fantasy III, I’ve become too frustrated to continue that hobby. But I have to admit, videogames can be great creative fuel for when I’m writing a short story or heavy metal song.

You’ve made it this far into my dating profile without cowering away. You deserve a parade with confetti and marching bands. Now we’re going to get serious for a minute. I don’t have many pet peeves, but one of my biggest ones is people lacking respect for my introversion. You know the kind. They make small talk until the end of time, they always want your attention 24/7, they give you no breathing space or privacy of any kind, and they get pissed off if you call them out on their aggressive bullshit. If you’re one of these people who loves to smother your boyfriend with multiple texts, phone calls, and visits, then I don’t need you in my life. Every worst enemy of mine was someone who invaded my privacy and gave me no alone time to process my thoughts. Introversion may sound like an excuse to a lot of people, but it’s real to me and if you don’t honor it, you can’t be my girlfriend.

There you have it: Garrison Haines-Temons, bullshit free, nonconforming, live, and in color. Truth be told, I know not everyone accepts this kind of brutal honesty. In fact, I expect that most girls will see my profile and swipe to the right. That’s okay, though. I’m really joining this dating site out of protest and I really don’t need a relationship based on shallowness. Either you love all of me or you hate all of me. I don’t change for anybody. I don’t need to be told how to dress. I don’t need to be told what career to embark on. I don’t need to be told how to live life. I know what my life is about and I’m happy with my situation even though others aren’t. So what do you say? Will you give me a chance or will you keep pursuing your dreams of getting in the sack with Christian Grey?”

　

Now I’m actually curious as to how many hits this profile will get. I shouldn’t get too hung up on it, though. After all, I’m going into this thing with the ultimate “I don’t give a fuck” attitude. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

　

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

With the additions of Autumn the parrot and Shadow the dog, it’s time to add yet another former animal of mine to the series. Remember Ottie-Doo from the short story of the same name? Like Autumn and Shadow, I don’t have any photographs of the elderly kitty. A drawing will have to do instead. And now that I think about it, Ottie had a lot in common with my current elderly kitty Smokey. Maybe I could use a picture of Smokey for a reference model. Hmm….

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“New rule: couples who make out in public have to bring a bucket for me to throw up in. I didn’t come all the way to Applebee’s to be sickened by your dry humping. I came all the way to Applebee’s to be sickened by the food.”

-Bill Maher-

The A&W Hotdog Eating Debacle

Whenever I go out on public with Susan, it is a must that I embarrass her front of everyone with my social awkwardness. Whether it’s screaming in pain at a high volume or making crude sexual or death jokes, if someone is around us, they’ll remember it forever. The only way they will ever forget my public antics is either through chugging a bottle of Xanax or EMDR therapy. They might even qualify for social security after I’m through with them, you never know.

One of my favorite ways to embarrass Susan in public is where we’re eating at a restaurant or a food court and I eat a gigantic mountain of meat slathered in all sorts of disgusting sauces. Whenever she sees me eat a cheeseburger with four patties, eight slices of cheese, God knows how many pieces of bacon, and a pound of mayonnaise and olive oil, Susan immediately gets the urge to vomit herself inside out. Her nausea is equivalent to a mixed-martial artist getting kicked in the liver: the oxygen is gone and the acid is boiling inside like a bubbling marsh.

The opportunity presented itself one night while Susan, her daughter Reina, and I ate at A&W for a night of cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and middle school toilet humor. Me eating gigantic hamburgers and greasy French fries was bad enough for Susan, but the middle school toilet humor was what really started to make her boil with embarrassment. It wasn’t until I ordered a bacon cheddar hotdog that things really started to get out of hand.

A bacon cheddar hotdog is exactly how it sounds: it’s a hotdog in a bun drenched with fake nacho cheese and sprinkled with sloppy chunks of bacon. It was a cardiovascular dream come true for me and Susan’s worst stomach churning nightmare. From the minute I took the first bite, she started feeling ill and was showing it with the saggy frown on her face and her tongue hanging out. It got from bad to worse when some of the cheese and bacon landed in my Diet Pepsi…and I drank it anyways.

“Can I get my food to go, please?” said a nearby customer who was eating with his elementary school-aged kid. Although the customer didn’t mention the reason for wanting his food to go, it was pretty obvious to me, Susan, and Reina. Me and Reina laughed our asses off while Susan slapped herself on the forehead and shook her head no in shame. Just for reassurance, I asked, “Is he leaving because of me?” Susan not only said yes, but hell yes.

Me and Susan didn’t return to A&W for a while after that night. But one night while I was supposed to withdraw money for her, we decided to go through the drive-through (without Reina this time, so the middle school toilet humor was even worse than before). Susan wanted a root beer float while I ordered three bacon cheddar hotdogs. I repeat: three of them this time, not one.

If Susan wasn’t getting ready to barf all over the steering wheel already, she would be when the nice clerks gave me a free bacon double cheeseburger to go with everything else. The universe must have really appreciated my positive thoughts or something. As for Susan’s negative thoughts to the universe, all she got was a few bites of her root beer float and then she didn’t want anymore. The whole drive home she kept complaining about an aching stomach. Luckily, the car stayed clean for the drive home. If she ever did throw up, it would for sure rival the vomit scene from Poltergeist 2 where the father spit up a hideous demon.

My eating habits at A&W were Hall of Fame worthy when it comes to socially awkward behavior. The diarrhea dump that resulted from those habits was even more disgusting since the entire house smelled like the Bremerton Sewage Plant (that’s Reina’s description, not mine). Whether it’s Susan’s stomach acid or my sloppy shit, if someone was making a reality show out of our lives, it would be rated TV-MA for graphic violence. Suck on that, Human Centipede! Actually, don’t suck on anything, because that would be gross.

　

***WRESTLING QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“I know a lot of you think that the new national pastime in the oral office is swallow the leader. But I can assure you, I did not, I repeat, I did not sleep with that young intern. In fact, I was up all night!”

-Shawn Michaels during the “DX Apology Speech”-