the world according to pete.. according to me ..

BEFORE THE ROOSTER CROWS .. again...

2005-11-27T19:57:00.000-07:00

clicking on the following link will direct you to the directly related page containing the Peter Post titled: Tuesday, November 22, 2005 [[ CAN'T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG? ]

Halleluiah! ¡Aleluya! Halleluja! Aleluia! Холлелуиа! Алелуйа!

Peter

You have walked alongside Jesus for many years.

You approached him one day down on Madison, or somewhere. You said to him “You’re Christ, the Son of the living God." and Jesus said the fact that you even knew who he was, had come as a divine revelation.

God Himself had told you.

God says those things a lot down on Madison, I suppose but this time it was real and you were going to build a church and no force of Satan would ever be able to overcome it.

Someone was supposed to give you keys to the kingdom and you were to be elected the spokesman and everyone was supposed to obey whatever truth or nonsense you spewed.

Then, Jesus told you "Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven."

Boy, you should’ve never ditched him, you could be Kingdom Manager III by now.

Remember the days when the two of you hung out on the mountain of transfiguration? Surely, you have to remember walking on water with him but that was then … this is now..nobody really thinks you walk on water these days, so sorry for bringing that one up.

For the record, it’s a mighty god-damned good thing (oops sorry)… ahem .. it’s a mighty good thing you don’t know any guards these days .. that ear choppin-off gig can earn you some time in the lion’s den; those lion’s didn’t have a taste for Daniels but they sure hunger for Peter.

Anyway, Jesus told you to keep his alibi a secret and he warned you that he was going to suffer horrifically and then he was gonna die and come back to life to prove his point.

You tried to argue with him and you told him he was lying, he assumed that Satan had taken over your senses and demanded that Satan get thee behind him.

This is where it all wrong, in my book.

You were also warned ahead of time that you would deny your best friend and after the third time you did it, some cock would show up.

You never listen do you?

You denied ever knowing Jesus. Do you remember that, Peter?

You bragged that you would never deny being a follower of Jesus…that is until good ol’ J.C. got arrested and hauled off.

Then you bailed on him.

Everyone wondered where you went, especially J.C.

Some say you were hanging out on the sidelines watching it all go down. Some woman even approached you and asked if you were one of the men with Jesus.

She wasn’t insinuating you were with Jesus in that way; Jesus, Peter, she just wanted to help you.

But your brain was all about the sex, so you denied even knowing him, you did that a total of three times to be exact; after your third denial you heard the cock and realized what you had done.

(Is it just me or is it a total coincidence that "Peter" and "Cock" mean the same thing?)

You’re kinda like the “Runaway Peter” and you left Jesus at the altar a very long time ago.

Jesus needed a committed friend and you ran away.

We know you aren’t perfect, Peter and so does Jesus. I guess he has probably forgiven you, I wouldn’t but hey, those bumper stickers say that this is What Jesus Would Do, not What I Would Do.. hell you wouldn’t wanna know what I would do.

In conclusion, it's been rumored that you have written two epistles although some dispute their authorship.

One emphasizes Christ's example to those who are suffering and the need to lead a godly life in a heathen environment and the other warns against false and corrupt leaders. How ironic.

Just think, Jesus could have avoided all that painful piercing had you not shown up with that cock of yours.

Meat Counter

2005-11-13T08:56:00.000-07:00

clicking on the following link will direct you to the directly related page containing the Peter Post titled: Tuesday, November 08, 2005 [[ STRANGE ENCOUNTERS ]]

When I read Peter's last post, I thought, "Peter left himself an open target here!"
This one, I thought, will be so easy to comment on but then as a sick twist of fate; it left open so many avenues to strike at that I just became immediately confused. I couldn't comprehend the simpleness. I was momentarily stumped. I guess I must be a genius. Or something.

I don't doubt Peter attracts weirdos, that remains an unspoken notion or at least it should be.

No doubt, when this little "encounter" took place, he had been up for two days straight; living off of coffee, nicotine and the rush of yet another manic episode.

Now, what exactly do you think is going to happen when you stroll down a dark inner-city street in the wee hours of the morning and hang out in front of sleazy storefronts with...dirt on the walls?

The average Peter doesn't live that way.

Peter, you have every right to feel so dirty and uncut, I read the post and immediately had to go take a long shower.

You should really consider buying your cigarettes by the carton, then you wouldn't have to interrupt your novel writing and wander down to the local store at three in the morning in the middle of one your psychotic and manic episodes.

For the sake of anal-ogy, similar to the way a dog knows which dumpster has the freshest meat in it or the way that same dog can pick up the scent of a pre-menstual female; weirdos are bloodhounds too and they can pick up the stench of a manic episode from miles away.

Just like Forrest and Jenny went together like peas and carrots; manic and weirdo go hand and hand, if you go-a-manic the weirdo will most certainly find you and sometimes vice-versa.

Speaking of peas and carrots, I'm feeling a little famished and I'm going to get something to eat.

Maybe I'll drive down by that seedy little store and scrawl Peter's email address in the dirt on the walls. He doesn't strike me as one that gets too much into the exercise thing; so if he was walking, he must only live a few blocks away. I'll put on my bloodhound nose and see if I can find which window his manic stench is emitting from and leave him a pack of smokes, a bottle of zoloft and maybe I'll leave my business card; in case he wants to send a thank you note.

God, sometimes it must really suck to be you; just minding your own business and then having to constantly deal with life's intrusions.

I agree with you Peter, God certainly does have a sick sense of humor.

So do you.

And when I die; I expect to find the both of yous laughing.

PLEASE DON'T TOUCH ME

2005-10-29T03:22:00.000-07:00

clicking on the following link will direct you to the directly related page containing the Peter Post titled:
[[ Thursday, October 27, 2005 PLEASE DON'T TOUCH THE WRITER ]]

I went down to the local homeless shelter the other night to donate a few items I thought someone else could also try on, throw on the floor, re-wash, re-hang, re-try-on, re-wash, well, you get the picture.

Though many feel the shelter at times can be depressing; in my past experiences, I feel it can be quite a hoot sometimes.

As I arrived, too many people I didn't wanna know, wanted to tell me how much they loved what I was donating - which isn't bad in itself - but they would start lunging toward me as they said this.

You'd think I'd be used to this kind of behavior.

I’m not.

Anyway, I had this homeless shelter man approach me and ask "You got a light?"

You'd think I'd be used to this kind of behavior.

I’m not.

After he lights his smoke, he puts my lighter into his pocket and asks if I still contribute “locally”.

"I just did." I say.

Ignoring my comment, he continued rambling about how he had seen me once or twice and really dug what I had to say and in between exhales of generic cigarette smoke, he spewed a quote from some of my work: “..I will respond to Mr. Pete according to which raw nerve he hits on that particular day or how much pity I feel for him as he continues to get abused by the world and feels the need to amuse us with his misfortunes..”

He followed that up with: "So, can you spare me a date?"

You'd think I'd be used to this kind of behavior.

I’m not.

That one hit me head-on and I never saw it coming. Yeah. Whatever.

Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate the compliments and if I can get away with a simple "thanks" or “no thanks” I will.

In the ensuing moment of the inevitable poignant look, I quietly slip away.

All these questions of his make me nervous.

Why?

He’s a writer.

Dis-A-Peer

2005-10-11T20:22:00.000-07:00

clicking on the following link will direct you to the directly related page containing the Peter Post titled:
[[ Saturday, October 08, 2005 IN CASE OF MY DISAPPEARANCE ]])..

DEAR PETER,

FIRST OF ALL, NOBODY REALLY CARES.

I MEAN, PEOPLE WILL WITHOUT A DOUBT NOTICE THAT YOU ARE NOWHERE TO BE FOUND, BUT NOTICING AND CARING ARE TWO TOTALLY DIFFERENT THINGS. (YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT).
SOON YOUR MEMORY WILL CRUMBLE INTO A PILE OF MILLIONS OF LITTLE FLAKEY, CRUSTY PETER P. PARTICLES THAT EVENTUALLY, YOUR DERANGED LITTLE CAT WILL USE TO BURY HER LITTLE COTTAGE CHEESE POOPIES WITH.

I HAVE TO TELL .. WELL.. WHATEVER.. I CAN’T REALLY ELABORATE ON ANYTHING TOO MUCH OR I’M SURE AS THE SUN RISES IN THE EAST, THAT IN THE EVENT OF YOUR UNTIMELY DISAPPEARANCE, EVERYTHING I SAY OR DO OR DON’T SAY OR DO WILL SOMEDAY BE HELD AGAINST ME.

I EXPECT THAT TO HAPPEN ANYTIME I HAVE BEEN INVOLVED WITH ANYTHING IN REFERENCE TO YOU.

I SHOULD MENTION HERE THAT A GIRLFRIEND OF MINE ISN'T TOO PLEASED THAT I AM HAVING TO CONSTANTLY DEFEND MYSELF AGAINST PETER'S RAMBLINGS EITHER AND JUST WAIT UNTIL SHE GETS HER HANDS ON HIM.

ANYWAY..BEING THAT I AM ALWAYS SO PREPARED, WELL ANYWAY .. OCCASIONALLY I DO PREPARE FOR THINGS THAT ENTICE AND EXCITE AND AROUSE ME, SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO I HAVE CREATED MY OWN LIST OF CLUES THAT I WILL PASS ON TO THOSE WHO MAY FEEL OBLIGED TO ACTUALLY UNRAVEL THE MYSTERY OF WHERE YOU MAY BE; WHEN AND IF YOU SHOULD DISAPPEAR IN A TIMELY OR UNTIMELY MANNER.

Dear Nancy Drew:

Enclosed is a list of clues for your use, in case you decide to look for PP. I'm confident it won’t take much woman-power or money, in fact it would probably cost about as much as free internet porn and one-way bus fare downtown.

I wouldn’t mention any of this to the Hardy Boys either… I know they’ve seen some
cuh-ray-zey shit, being in the P.I. field and all but P.P. would be too traumatic for them.

Don't get them involved!

Let me put it this way Nance; the monkeys aren’t the only mammals that like to "swing" and yes, the memory of that giraffe is quite amazing but don’t bet on him to lead you to Peter because “what happens in the savannah, stays in the savannah.”

‘Nuff said?

Leave the boys at Krispy Kreme this time.

DESCRIPTION OF THE MISSING:

Clue Number One: Peter is a major fucking pain in the ass

Clue Number Two: Peter is a wimp

Clue Number Three: Peter has a brobdingnagian ego

Clue Number Four: Peter has a palpable limp

Clue Number Five: Track Marks

Clue Number Six: Cheap Coffee

Clue Number Seven: Cheap Diners

Clue Number Eight: Cheap Shots

Clue Number Nine: Occasionally dresses like an ape, a cowboy and a tossed back
Depeche’ Mode fan sporting Eric Estrada sun-glasses and and smoking generic cigarettes inside of a mountain bell phone booth (i know, I couldn't believe it either!)

Clue Number Ten: Close friend of The Velveteen Rabbit
(ew-careful where you touch-check for DNA)

Clue Number Eleven: Lyle Lovett-Lyle Lovett- Lyle Lovett

Clue Number Twelve: Ass like a hot round biscuit

Clue Number Twelve: Incessantly irritating non-stop whining

So, there you go Nance, hope that helps. With clues like that, it should be a snap to crack the case of P.P.’s untimely disappearance. It’s nothing a little monkey swingin’ and man-power can’t solve.

Word of advice, careful when approaching him; he may become a freaky nut-job and begin rambling on and on about CIA operatives, Conversations with God, acid flashbacks, alien abductions and Downtown Gentrification.

What I mean is, he will be a bit defensive. Similar to my actions, my words also reflect my above average standards; meaning.. none of what I've had to say here will "settle" with him either..

If all else fails, just drop him off on a corner somewhere.. he'll later apologize for his obscene behaviors.

Dirty-ly Yours ... (click and wait for a 30 second word from our sponser .. the appropriate page will load)

until next time... the world according to pete .. according to me...

Peter's Privates

2005-03-10T23:47:00.000-07:00

clicking on the following link will direct you to the directly related page containing the Peter Post titled:
[[Tuesday, March 08, 2005 WHEN GOOD GIRLFRIENDS GO BAD]]

I'm sorry folks, this one is for Pete's eyes only, please spare him some privacy, if you want.

Peter, lay here on this black leather sofa and close your eyes.

No, Peter, leave your clothes on, good God, you certainly do not need another girlfriend at this point in your recovery.

Peter, I understand your sullen and pitiful state of confusion. I mean a girl packs up and leaves you in a dust of hair mud with no viable excuse, that's an excellent excuse to mope. For about a week.

Pick yourself up and dust off your knuckles, already.

I am sure though that if you think hard enough, there were clues that you never picked up on because you are so focused on your world, according to you.

This reminds me of a man I dated once, maybe I dated him more than once, well, actually, maybe it was just his TYPE that I dated more than once. I'll have to get back to you on that one. Anyway, I left them. All of them. Why? Because they just didn't get what was I trying to show them, of course until I was already gone and involved with their twin. Then they clearly got it and regretted their ignorance. Eventually, I matured and I stopped giving the break up line "It's not you, it's me" after I discovered that it in fact wasn't me, it was them.

To think I took the rap for the failures all those years really tans my hide. Oh yeah, this isnt about me, it's about you, so forgive my selfishness.

Sit back down Peter. Stop wallowing in your self-absorbancy and pay attention.

What I am trying to do here Peter, is help you understand why this or any girl for that matter, may have left and being that I am a girl myself, I know what you may not know.

You have to be realistic here for a moment and consider the possibility that this girl(s)may have totally different forces shaping their choices in life than you do.

Not that your forces are necessarily wrong forces in a sense but they may be wrong for someone else, maybe even everyone else but as long as your happy, then who cares.

It is quite selfish behavior to believe that it is something you did or didn't do. Do you really think it is all about you? Maybe it is all about them and they would benefit from a few private sessions themselves, maybe even more so than you.

Get over it Peter, even Richard Gere gets dumped.

Sit down, dammit and listen.

We all have beliefs and expectations, some of our expectations are higher and some of ours are lower. Maybe you have beliefs and ideas of things, things that these girls don't feel they can live up to or stoop down to in order to satisfy you.

Stop your damn crying Peter and listen.

I don't mean that to be harsh but if you reversed those expectations, you in turn would be sacrificing parts of who you really are as well, meaning you would not be able to be yourself. In turn, y'all would be living one big damn'd ol' fat lie, gargling with sufferage and unhappiness every waking morning.

Why would anyone want to live being someone other than themselves?(unless, of course you hate yourself but that's next week's session)

As cliche' as this is going to sound, remaining friends is a viable option. First, you must grow up and accept that though these flighty, spastic, ugly underwear purchasing winches may have a different perspective of a committed romantic relationship than you, there were obviously many aspects of their personalities that were compatible with yours.

Otherwise you wouldn't keep attracting them, right?

Don't give up Peter, take this pill of loneliness and wash it down with a big cold glass of hope. Things will turn around for you soon and if they don't, I'll still be here to help you.

God, Peter what would you do without me and my brilliancy.

That'll be fifty bucks, please.

Make your check payable to ... theworldaccordingtopeteaccordingtome@blogspot.com

till next time.

Peter's Homeless Show

2005-02-19T06:25:00.000-07:00

clicking on the following link will direct you to the directly related page containing the Peter Post titled: [[ Saturday, February 05, 2005 SHELTER STORIES ]])

What’s with the sick and bored Peter fan spitting taunting questions, as if daring me to comment further? This time the Sick-and-Bored-Peter-Fan wonders why I have not commented on Peter’s-Day-With-The-Homeless.

Fine. Here you go.

“Peter’s Homeless Show”

Cowboy, Rufus, Stretch, Turtle and Slim-Shady are any homeless guy you see in the park. They defecate in the alley and make use of The New Times to wipe the remnants of “The Soup Line Dinner” from their hineys. One fine summer day, Cowboy says to the remaining clan “Let’s stop off at the homeless shelter to visit Peter, since he was quite the dander recanting our shortcomings and health issues on that log of his.
I think we should call up one of them fancy lawyers and sue his bisquit of an ass for defamation of character.”

Stretch, going out on a limb, scratches his head and replies, “Maybe if I swallow some more of this here green jello the guy from the food bank gave to me, I can pretend I am hacking a lung and really get him!”

Excellent idea! slurs Turtle.

Slim Shady raps out the following, “Peter Peter Homeless Eater May I have your attention please?
May I have your attention please?
Will the real Peter please stand up?
I repeat, will the real Peter please stand up?
We're gonna have a problem here..”

You scrawny shady hick, shut the hell up!, cranks out Rufus. You think everything is about rapping?

Knock off yur shit says Cowboy, lets go.

Four days later, the crew shows up at the shelter as Peter was standing outside smoking.

Peter, states Cowboy, we was at the li’bary the other night, keeping dry from the rain and overheard some young punk reading about you to his gurlie friend.

Fantastic, Peter replied with his eyes all a glow. I’m glad to hear I’m so popular!

“They said you was talking ‘bout us.” Said Turtle.

Back in Kentucky, a man could plum get shot, execution style for that kinda thing, Peter.

I may be slow said Turtle but I ain’t too slow to know you was airing our skeletons.

Speaking of skeletons interjected Slim ..

Where's my snare?
I have no snare in my headphones - there you go
Yeah.. yo, yo
Have you ever been hated or discriminated against?
I have; I've been protested and demonstrated against
Look at me now; I bet ya probably sick of me now ain't you Peter?
I'ma make you look so ridiculous now “

Peter cried, Forgive me guys…
I'm sorry
I never meant to hurt you!
I never meant to make you cry;
How about tonight I let you all in the Clothing Closet?

I could use some new Wranglers said Cowboy.
I do need a new shell, stated Turtle.
I don’t wanna got-dammed-thing from you, event the carnie treated me better than you Peter.

Ha! I’m sure Peter got some skeletons in his closet
and I don't know if no one knows it, rapped Slim.

Whoa guys wait a minute,
I maybe made some mistakes
but I'm only human, but I'm man enough to face them today
What I did was stupid, no doubt it was dumb…

Cowboy interrupts, I can hear ya now, sittin’ there at that fancy computer of yours, “It's my life, the World According To Pete and I'd like to welcome y'all to the "Homeless Show".

Yo uh huh, said Slim
Now I would never diss my own momma just to get recognition
Take a second to listen for who you think this story is dissin
But put yourself in my position; just try to envision
...someone's always goin through your bags and shit's missin
Goin through public housin systems, victim of The Peter Syndrome
My whole life I was made to believe I was sick when I wasn't
'til I grew up, now I blew up, it makes you sick to ya stomach
doesn't it?

So you could try to justify the way you treated me Peter?
But guess what? You're gettin older now and it's cold when your lonely…

…Have you ever been hated or discriminated against?
I have; I've been protested and demonstrated against
Picket signs, no sleeping signs, look at the times…
...Welcome To Peter's Homeless Show

Until Next Time … The World According To Pete, According To Me…

Star Wars Woes

2005-01-16T14:47:00.000-07:00

clicking on the following link will direct you to the directly related page containing the Peter Post titled: [[ Saturday, January 01, 2005 STAR WARS SPOILERS ]]

It seems as though I have been been placed on the tipitty-top edge of a pedestal of dares by one of Pete's simple minded fans.

This same simple minded fan is curious as to why I have not added my personal commentary on Pete's Star Wars Post. This particular fan claims it is the sacredness of Star Wars that has caused my speechlessness.

Yes, you Simple-Minded-Peter-Fan-Star-Wars-Junkie-Freak, you are so correct. Sacred is the first thing that comes to my mind when I hear the words STAR WARS.

Ha ha Ba-Ja-Ja Ja BAJA JA-Ja

HA.

After I stopped laughing my ass off, I rolled myself back up onto the sofa and wiped the drool from my face. With my stomach still in cramps, I straightened my bow tie, lit up a smoke and asked myself the same million dollar question.

"Self, why have you not posted any of your gregarious commentary on Pete's Star Wars Post?"

"Oh please, replied personality number six as she also doubled over in a rare fit of laughter, why don't you read Pete's Star Wars Post again."

Obediently, I did as I was told(if you knew personality number six like I know personality number six, you would obey too)and I re-read Pete's Star Wars Post.

I read Pete's Star Wars Post.

I read Pete's Star ..Wars .. yawn..

Oopsie daisy, how rude of me to just doze off like that.

Forgive me for the sinfulness I am about to commit against my fellow brother but Pete's Star Wars... yawn.. it did nothing to stir up the thesaurus in me.

From my own professional psycho-analytical point of view, I would have to conclude that Mr. Peter is grasping for topics to comment on.

So, Simple-Minded-Peter-Fan-Star-Wars-Junkie-Freak, let me explain this viral/contagious thing to you in great yet simple minded depth.

Have you ever innocently visited a porn site without your mate knowing and upon re-boot, immediately you begin to receive thousands of viral pop-ups for hot live sex and you're not sure how it happened?

Neither does your mate.

I think that's how the story went.

Anyway, it is similar to what is also known as the common cold or a bad virus or the snow ball effect or something like that.

So you see, Simple-Minded-Peter-Fan-Star-Wars-Junkie-Freak, if I respond to a story that is lacking so severely in the inspiration department, my stories would also then be tainted with the same "lacking-ness."

Get it?

On a higher note, for us detail-oriented master-minds, let us delve into this situation a little deeper. If we tackle it speculatively, we could probably come up with a million reasons why Peter was driven to create such undriven, lack-a-daisy or whatever, writing.

In between more fits of laughter, I finally boiled it down to five.

"Five Reasons Why Pete's Last Post Lacked"

RN5: Pete is bored and hungry
RN4: Pete's cat is bored and hungry
RN3: Pete's cat ate Pete's brain stem
RN2: Pete's cat died
RN1: (drum roll please).... Pete's girlfriends left. Again.

Folks, as much as I hate to say this, we will just have to painfully flip through pages of jabbering kaka from Pete until girlfriend C enters stage right(or stage wrong) and finds Girlfriend A and Girlfriend B's under-panties.
(This time the story should unfold really nicely since the cat has since died of starvation).

In all fairness to Peter .. I mean, for the record .. Being the honest folk that I am, I have to admit that I had absolutely no desire to comment on a topic that I house no knowledege in.

Really, I haven't seen metal nor tin of Argh-2 Dee-2 or Cee-3 Pee-Oh in years.

The last time I recall having any relations with either clankety character, I was but a young girl, innocently clad in WonderWoman Under-oos, playing with rubber babies that had no pulse but could drink and then poop a mysterious orange gelatin substance.

So there you have it.
I'm Star-Wars innocent.

In closing, I would like to take a moment and offer a word of advice to Peter.

Dear Peter,

Get up!

Get right up off of your bisquit of an ass, shut down the porn sites and take a long hot shower. Robe yourself in your favorite cozy sweater and take a long walk to your favorite coffee house. Shortly after arriving to this auric establishment, order a latte and find a comfey chair where you are able to sit, sip and most importantly, think.

Somewhere in between sipping up the warm and nutty contents of your paper cup, you should suckle then on the following notion; sometimes in order to feel inspired, one must feel as though they are a small yet meaningful part of this world.

To accomplish the previous over-run paragraph, one must be less self amused and pay more attention to the other real things in your world-according-to-you that also matter.

Like maybe your girlfriend and all of us dedicated fans that have to read your stuff, that at times(other that last time)can be quite warm and stimulating.

Okay? Thanks.

To the rest of you out there, take care and don't give up. Peter might surprise us yet.

Until Next Time

The World According To Pete .. According To Me ...

Flock Your Resolutions

2004-12-30T11:06:00.000-07:00

clicking on the following link will direct you to the directly related page containing the Peter Post titled: [[ Tuesday, December 28, 2004 [[RESOLUTIONS I KNOW I CAN KEEP]]

LOOKEY-HERE !!

He’s back in original form.

The cynical and bitter Jackass has returned to his original state of mind. I was starting to truly develop pangs of worry for the guy.

I mean, I was actually losing sleep.

Okay, not really but I did have quite the sugar rush after chewing on that last delicacy of Bits and Pieces of sappy crap.

Outside of the Grace of Girlfriend B, I blame the sick and repetitive Holiday music combined with the flashy lights that seem to put us all into a “I Really, Truly Care About Other Members Of The Human Race Altered State Of Mind.”

Perhaps Pity, I mean Petey, should have sought out an "altered-state-of mind" by slicing into his own flesh with a dull blade instead, at least that would been right up his demented and anal alleyway.

Needless to say, it would have saved me from the stress of almost having to make a necessary name change to the title of my site.

Being it is the season for giving, I’m sure he even went out of his way to score his “Future-Ex-Girl-Friend” AND “Girlfriend B” a nice glittery Christmas Gift or maybe he took one or both of them out in public, maybe to a nice restaurant or even a movie. (insert Big Fat Santa Belly Laugh here)

Okay, probably not; tis the season for miracles but we are only allowed one BIG one per Planet.

Sadly, I guess the Holidays can be hard for us all, except for maybe his sex-starved girlfriend(s).

So now Pete has returned to spread more Joy of The Season with his new and undoubtedly declining New Year’s Resolutions. If I recall correctly, according to The Future-Ex-Girlfriend, this seems to be all he is spreading lately.

Ain’t no Joy of The Season goin’ on in that “Actual Living Relationship.”

Poor Girl.

My suggestion to “The Future Ex-Girlfriend" is this; get yourself into a sloppily drunk sexual frenzy some night and wantonly seduce "Girlfriend B"; then as an added bonus you should neglect to inform him that you "called her" and “made plans” until after the deed is done. (DO NOT tell him before; it cuts deeper if he is not invited to the party)

When it’s all said and done and he’s left stewing in his own juices of some sort and crying out in misery “Why?” “Why?” Simply tell him you were doing your part in spreading something other than the “False Joy” we’ve all seen, heard or felt enough of this time of year or this relationship.

Maybe you can add on to that "lame-ass-excuse" that you actually care enough about his personal safety to assist him in a dangerous and bloody battle of killing two flakey yet resolved birds with one stone.

When he’s left speechless (and trust me, at this point he will be) follow up with a “Dear Pete” email titled “Two Birds of a Feather Flock Together; include a photo of you and Girlfriend B in poses he would never have the balls or seasonal generosity to do.

This one is truly a slam-dunk.

Until next time ...

* HEADLINES *

2004-12-19T21:52:00.000-07:00

clicking on the following link will direct you to the directly related page containing the Peter Post titled: [[Saturday, December 18, 2004 [[RANDOM BITS 14 = Diner Tale #5 = What Time Is It? = Death & Coffee Heavenly Bus Ride = The Chair Experiment = Poetic Shopper = Girl A & Girl B ]]

In Local News..

A popular and well liked; Well, uh anyway...

A popular web-blog author, known for his cynical and jaded views on the world (his world by the way) is feared missing and possibly endangered.

Sources say Mr. Cynical’s valley home had been under surveillance for quite sometime. At approximately, 2:30 pm on Saturday December 18th, his home was raided and Mr. Cynical was kidnapped by a deranged crew of forty-five smiling men and women donned in mauve OPRAH WINFREY CREW T-Shirts.

A videotape of Mr. Cynical was aired live during an episode of OPRAH’S “My Favorite Things” where he was shown holding an episode the latest OPRAH! Magazine and rambling, “This has left me in an uncharacteristically good mood which, quite frankly, can be maddening at times.”

An un-named source states Mr. Cynical is currently being tortured in the OPRAH greenroom with scents of PHILOSPHY’s Gingerbread Man Hot Salt Scrub. Officials refuse to give into the kidnappers demands for two-thousand additional pairs of The Gap’s Long and Lean Blue Jeans, which ironically are in shortage after a previously aired episode of OPRAH’S “My Favorite Things.”

Friends and neighbors, that is the only explanation I can come up with after reading “Bits and Pieces” of disgustingly sweet … stuff.

Dining on home-cooked meals of Pot-Roast and Mashed-Potatoes? Thoughts of (oh god help us) pro-creating? Volunteering as a pallbearer at the funeral of the local Barista’s mascot? Going out of your way to prove, even at this time of year, society still treats the less fortunate like bodily functions? Saving the planet by riding the bus? And last but not least, the real topper; accompanying the mentally and physically challenged on a caffeine-and-nicotine-shopping spree?

Oh.
My.
God.

Are you trying out for the Nobel Prize?

Somebody pass me the TUMS already, I feel so nauseated.

Actually, I feel like I tripped on my shoelace and fell into a manhole world of Guidepost Magazine and Better Homes and Gardens.

How sweet. Pete.

I blame Girl B.

There is no way in hell that any half-intelligent female would believe such a far-fetched story of “my-cat-drug-these-under-panties-that-are-obviously-not-yours-to-the-middle-of-the-floor-story.” Just what the hell is she trying to prove anyway?

Thank you very much you eye-biting winch, you’ve ruined Mr. Cynical with your beauty and grace. I think I’m liking and rooting for the swift return of Girl A, even if she did purchase or borrow underwear in poor taste.

In conclusion, the only thing that brings me pleasure about this day is, that Pete, wherever he may be, is now vividly aware of my opinion of his deranged and anal-retentive world, his World According To Me that is.

I’ve been caught on to but not caught up with.

Now for the weather.

The World According To Pete.. According To Me..

Lingo: The Ninth Breed of Terror

2004-12-13T07:04:00.000-07:00

clicking on the following link will direct you to the directly related page containing the Peter Post titled:
[Friday, December 10, 2004 NEW BREED OF TERROR]

Please accept my apology in advance for the angry bitch I am about to be.

Yo Dude...

Whaaaat Uuup?

Janky?

Fly?

Don't be hatin' ...

Oh, Pete.

Pete.
Pete.
Pete.

Sorry to break the news to you this way my friend but you have succumbed; to The American Lingo of The Under-Educated, that is.

AKA: The Ninth Breed of Terror.

You must have been standing near that bush that was struck by an Electro-Retrogressor Gun.

I'm speechless.

Learning Experience

2004-12-05T16:16:00.000-07:00

clicking on the following link will direct you to the directly related page containing the post titled: Wednesday, October 01, 2003 [ MY NAME IS PETE...AND I AM A PROUD SLUT! ]

You may get to the end of this story and wonder, "Just what the hell does this have to do with the world according to Pete?"

I'm here to warn the world of the career criminal that is on the loose.

Possibly in your own neighborhood.

I just have a feeling that there are many victims in Pete's world that have been duped into believing; it is they that are crazy and not him.

These women need to know, the aforementioned is in fact not the truth.

Creative men have a way of convincing a perfectly sane woman that she is under the influence of constant episodes of dillusionary behavior; besides I had to post "wanted" flyers somewhere and this seemed like the perfect storefront window.

(WARNING: Reading this maybe hazardous to the creative male type)

Without further ado..This is not going to be a dreary story about how those once-happy-hello-how-are-you-just-wanted-to-say-i-missed-you phone calls slowly subsided into nothing and now I feel ugly and suicidal because I obviously am just a square peg in somebody's round hole world.

No way.

Not at all.

In case you didn't hear me, I said, "No way, this is not going to be that kind of story at all."

Anyway, I was dating some guy, okay I was really just sleeping with him, actually I'm not sure what it was...
Nonetheless, I'm just not really sure what the hell happened. Things appeared to have just fizzled out, well, at least for one if us. I, myself still tote around a bag of liking for the guy but hey, what can you do; outside of brainwashing or hypnotism, you can't make someone feel something they don't feel, right?

A wise.. well anyway.. a woman once said to me, "People are brought into your life for a reason, you simply have to view it as a learning experience." I listened intently, pondering if this viewpoint of hers was really logical; being the optimistic sucker I truly am, that and I had no such wiser expanation, I fell for it.

I was beginning to feel pleased that I encountered a "male learning experience" until the moment "Miss Wise One" leaned over and whispered(as if there were some big secret to her wisdom) "People get so "attached" to their "learning experiences" that they never move on, they just keep living the same "learning experience" and never allow themselves to "experience" a brand new one."

I listened intently. In absolute horror.
Why was I the chosen one to hear the whisper kept from the world? Why couldn't I have just been left out of this?

I don't know about you but when it comes to men, I'm reaching the age where I don't want to "keep learning a new experience".

I would be happy with the "same ol' learning experience".

I would like for that "learning experience" to stick around long enough so I could formally understand what it's like to witness "the learning experience" expand around the midline.

I whispered a squeaky thank you to "Miss Wise One" for her words of wisdom and walked away feeling even more depressed.

Learning Experience A: I guess this particular male person was intended to be a "significantly shorter learning experience" than the last one; exactly three years, eight months and two weeks shorter but then who's counting?

Let's pause here for a moment and adopt the perspective of "Miss Wise One" well, okay let's not. I prefer my own opinion in this manner, seeing how I am the one who feels used and jilted by some wishy-washy artist of the male gender.

Learning Experience B: The male artist is not the type of "learning experience" a girl wants to be a part of.

The one thing that completely baffles me about this type of situation is this; how does one pinpoint the exact cause or moment it began to fizzle?
I have climbed up and down a ninety-nine day stairway, coated in sweet cherished memories with this guy and I can't really find the exact step marked with a chip of discontent.

Not on his part anyway; unless of course, you count the dissatisfaction he felt when I voiced that I cared not to be a warm and active part of his .. uh .. (radio edit) ...

Learning Experience C: What?

Those moody, wishy-washy and nuerotic "learning experiences" always seem to be more of a "traumatic experience" and not so productive; unless, of course you have a sado-masochisitic side. Which reminds me, I did allow him to blindfold and cuff me but I guess that was not an appropriate substitution for the intimate trio he felt would fulfill his "sexual learning experience."

Unfortunately, the saddest part of the whole thing is this; you cannot help but fall in love with an exceptionally creative man.

You absolutely cannot fucking help it. It is impossible.

I think you have to be more artistic than him in order to finagle a creative way to evade the heartache and drama he will inevitably bring into your life. My recommendation to anyone is to just plain steer clear of them or they will no doubt turn your insides into some eclectic piece of art, delicately framed by your somber and shiny, yet heartbroken expression.

Learning Experience D: The artistic man is evil. (The photographer, the painter, the musician, the writer, the witty guy; they all fall under this perverse category)

The particular one that I speak of, was sent here by Satan himself. In fact, if you look closely, you can see the mark of the beast on his forehead. Okay, so maybe it was a scar shaped more like the jagged edge of a broken ashtray but a mark is a mark and one should not take chances with marks of such kind.

Note to self: Marks are not "good learning experiences". They usually fall under the category of "karmic experiences", meaning the artistic man has a history of committing heinous and unforgiving crimes of passion. Beware.

Learning Experience E: Beware of the man with the mark of the broken ashtray, he is most likely highly creative, has a history of committing crimes of passion and belongs to a cult of other creative devils who cast spells on naive, goddess-like and highly creative women.

I could go on and on but I said I wasn't going to tell you a dreary story about how those once-happy-hello-how-are-you-just-wanted-to-say-i-missed-you phone calls slowly subsided into nothing and now I feel ugly and suicidal because I obviously am just a square peg in somebody's round hole world.

Thanks for listening.

World AIDS Day-Protect Yourself

2004-12-05T16:11:00.000-07:00

clicking on the following link will direct you to the directly related page containing the Peter Post titled: Sunday, November 28, 2004 [[ CELEBRATING... WORLD AIDS DAY]]

clap. clap. clap. clap.

(i'm sure someone else is also giving you what you deserve)

I feel so irritated by you all of a sudden; yet at the same time, I pity you, as your sex life continues to suffer from your extreme lack of knowledge regarding the female mind.

In defense of the female gender,(I'll touch on World AIDS Day in a moment) but first I must clear up all of this "hooey" you spew regarding us female gender types and the Lame-Ass-Excuses we give for not putting out to silly men such as yourself.

Let me say this, women are not to blame.
At all. Never. Ever.

It is the male population that has brought all this "sexual injustice" on themselves.

We are typically honest from the get-go, though, occasionally, we have to stoop to your method of communication and we are forced to use Lame-Ass-Excuses so that you men will better comprehend.

Sometimes, we really, truly are sleeping with our math teachers.

Of course, then we turn into adults and we are actually sleeping with our boss or maybe we are sleeping with all of our male co-workers and adding one more "sleeping partner" such as you, to the list, would mean we would then fall under the category of "slut" and you know how that would make us feel.

Maybe, because we are consistent in celebrating World AIDS Day, we are currently fresh out of condoms and it is not of our nature to risk dying a long painful death in case you are contagious, because obviously, it is your deadly and contagious excuses that are continually feeding the problem.
In defense of the male population, well sort of, I will admit that we women aren't always completely honest. Sometimes, it is payback(another thing we learned from you)but we women have our limits and we are fed up.

Okay, so it may seem a bit childish, deranged or quite unfair to you at times but we cannot apologize nor can we take full responsibility because it all relates back to the inconsiderate behavior of yes, a man.

You see, sometimes our bodies ache for the "satisfactory completion" in paying back all men for the crime of one who, after being nurtured with oral sex, rolled over and went to sleep, leaving our loins burning like a cat in heat because he was "too tired" to return the favor.

He was "too tired" to return the favor?

HE WAS "TOO TIRED" TO RETURN THE FAVOR!

In my small, lame female mind, if you're too tired to give, then my friend, you are also too tired to receive. I could quote a specific bible passage here but maybe I should leave God out of this, as I'm sure he too is quite disappointed that you men have given his most prized creation such a bad rap.
Ouch, even your bitterness is contagious.

In all fairness, Lame-Ass-Excuses have been around since the beginning of creation.Lame-Ass-Excuse #1; Created because God was forced to create woman after Adam barked the excuse that he couldn't do everything himself. God merely suggested that Adam should just masturbate a little, eat some fruit and watch TV.
Adam interjected with Lame-Ass-Excuse #2; "I can't tend to this garden of delicious fruit, even though it is the very thing nurtures my mere existence, I'm much too tired to take care of it."

The rest is history.

So, the mystery of the creation of the Lame-Ass-Excuses is solved.

Though, I must give credit where credit is due, I gained this brilliant ability to solve mysteries from paying attention to all those episodes of Scooby Doo, interestingly enough, he was a dog too.

In all seriousness, I would like to offer a word of advice to my fellow female gender types.

Ladies! please, please, protect yourselves.

Because just like AIDS; icky and contagious things like Lame-Ass-Excuses and Bitter Diatribes are not visibly contagious; until of course, you, yourself become sick from them.

Until next time.
The World According To Pete, According To Me.

THE CREATION

2004-12-05T16:08:00.000-07:00

clicking on the following link will direct you to the directly related page containing the Peter Post titled: Thursday, December 23, 2004 = Blog Will Eat Itself =

The World According To Pete, According To Me ...

This all began what seems like an eternity ago, my so called and so not asked for, introduction to "The World According To Pete."

One could ask, "Do we really care about Pete's cynical version of the world and what it means to him?" If you ask me, he sounds rather jaded, overly-sarcastic and just plain weird.Then it occurred to me, he could use a good reprimanding, maybe a word or two of encouragement; not to mention he obviously needs to meet a "chick" that could show him a thing or two about why the shoe continues to be dropped on his big, fat head.

I'm still mulling over which angle to take.
Do I introduce myself as "The Encouraging-One-Believing-Everyone-Has-Good-In-Them" and attempt to convince him that my purpose in Pete's declining world(the world according to him, by the way) is to provide for him a happy, new perspective?

On the other hand, I could attack like a violent wildebeast and force feed him suggestions of off my own personal spoon of sarcasm and dysfunction.

After much consideration, I decided to do what I do best.

Ride the fence.

I will respond to Mr. Pete according to which raw nerve he hits on that particular day or how much pity I feel for him as he continues to get abused by the world and feels the need to amuse us with his misfortunes.

The World According To Pete, According To Me...