Everything is wrong with me
Thursday, March 03, 2005
the ultimate dessert, Mother, good pills, haircut, movie review, music
Last night I did something rash. I'm not sure what came over me; I'm not one to make sudden impulsive decisions, but I did something that not only has changed me forever, but has changed the way I perceive and treat others, and how I approach life and science.

I put Oreo pudding on top of vanilla ice cream.

Let that sink in for a second.



Many of you know that my life's mission, aside from playing Raoul in "Phantom of the Opera" on Broadway, is to find the perfect dessert. Many times I have come close, but I have yet to been able to capture the rapture that the perfect dessert inspires, something like an orgasm without the semen, but with plenty of nudity.

Last night, after my usual gorging myself at dinner, I went to the fridge to get some delicious Oreo pudding. As I did so, something in my soul said to me, "Hey, fatass - check in the freezer. I bet Brian has some ice cream in there." Sure enough, Brian had some ice cream in there. And a dream was born.

I put the ice cream in a bowl, scooped the pudding out of the container and plopped it on top and the rest is history. I implore you - if you are overweight and hopeless or have a tremendous sweet tooth, you must try this. Sure, the consistencies don't really mix so you have to eat it before it gets all melty and mushy, but you MUST do this. It is unbelievably delicious.

[Warning: this is not for the faint of heart. Unless you are serious about dessert or a fat fuck, don't even attempt this.]

As I sat on the couch shoveling my ice cream/pudding treat in my mouth, my roommate Brian could only shake his head and watch. It really was a special moment for me, and I wanted to share it with you all.

And no, I don't have a girlfriend.


I was recently thinking back to the good old days of college (you know, when I actually made out with chicks occasionally) and one particular memory stood out: it was a nickname we gave to one of the girls who we sort of hung out with. We called her Mother.

I forget her real name, but there was something intrinsically motherly about Mother. It's hard to explain, but she just looked like a mother - like at any moment you'd see her on the street holding hands with a toddler or she might stop your dorm with a freshly baked cake for no reason or she could take care of you when you were feeling ill. Very motherly.

The best part was that in real life she was actually a TREMENDOUS whore who liked to get fucked in the shower and most likely gave one of my buddies HPV. Not quite motherly. Unless your mother has HPV and likes to get D'ed in the shower.

The lesson? Appearances can be deceiving, and even mothers can have genital warts. Don't say I didn't warn you.


I, Jason Mulgrew, am getting committed to getting clean. I'm trying to stay away from most drugs and, without getting too into detail because I know some relatives may be reading this, it's working. To some degree (please note that alcohol, marijuana, and Xanax do NOT apply here will forever be abused by yours truly).

But a strange this has been happening. I don't really know how to explain it, because since I've been "clean living" I've spent almost $300 in the last month or so at my local Vitamin Shoppe and GNC buying all sorts of vitamins, minerals, and who knows what else. Coming back from the foot doctor this morning, I stopped by GNC and dropped another $50.

Basically what I'm trying to say is that I'm eating pills like candy. Including my foot medicine, my morning routine now consists of twelve pills: two multi-vitamins, three coral calcium pills, two omega-3 pills, two garlic extract pills, one chromium picolinate pill, and two foot medicine pills. Before bed, I take any one or two of the following: Tylenol PM, Xanax, Valerian, Unisom, and some GNC sleep formula pills (NOT ALL AT ONCE: if I took this all at once, I'd never wake up -- do NOT try this at home. Seriously, you will die).

And to be honest, I don't know when this is going to end. Although I only bought more multi-vitamins and sleep formula pills at GNC this morning, I had to forcibly stop myself from buying all kinds of crap like Yohimbe (for sexual virility!), Gingko biloba, and St. John's Wort. It's conceivable that by summer I could be taking 120 pills a day, all of them supposedly good for me.

Maybe I should talk to my doctor about this. Also, maybe I should talk to my therapist about it too.

Or maybe I should just go back to hard drugs, as they were just as expensive and made me feel much better about myself than these stupid vitamins, and at the very least gave me much better stories ("Remember that time when I was all fucked up and I ran into the middle of the highway and tried to slap passing cars with my bird? And that one driver was all like, 'Hey, get out of the road?' and I was all like, 'Oh yeah, well check out my bird!' That was awesome").


I like that second one.


I got a haircut earlier this week and it is very short. I have decided it makes me look like a Viking child. A Viking because I have a beard, but a child because, although it makes me look bald, the haircut makes my face look even more round and highlights my chubby cheeks which are often red from the cold (and my high blood pressure). Thus, I look like a Viking child.

And yes, I realize that this is funny only to the 4% of you who actually know what I look like. Actually, I just re-read it and it's not funny at all. So let's just move on...


Jason Mulgrew's Movie Reviews in One Word or Less
(First in a series in which our protagonist reviews movies in one word or less)

Movie: "Napoleon Dynamite"

Review: "Eh"


Six Songs:

- "Kiss Them For Me" Siouxsie & The Banshees
I have no idea what's going on in this song. If you're on drugs, you probably shouldn't listen to it. I'm afraid of it, but I find it strangely appealing. It's the same way I feel about old people.

- "Cold Milk Bottle" The Mountain Goats
I don't know shit about this band, but I dedicated a whole post to one of their songs. God damn, this guy's intense. I think we would get along very well.

- "You Didn't Have To Be So Nice" Lovin' Spoonful
A nice lil' oldies song, back when songs were about young love and all sorts of happy, with a saccharine line: "You didn't have to be so nice/I would have liked you anyway". Awww. But what I want to know more about is the name "Lovin' Spoonful". Doesn't that sound deceptively dirty, or is it just me? I mean, spoonful of what? Spooge? I don't get it. Please help me. I just need someone to talk to.

- "Machine Gun" The Commodores
If I were in a band, I would open every show covering this song. I don't think there's a better "Get Up and Let Loose on the Dance Floor or the Nearest Table" song out there that's not by Prince, The Artist Formerly Known as Prince, or Michael Jackson. [Insert Michael Jackson joke here]

- "A Quick One While He's Away" The Who
What a tremendous journey of a song and one of the greatest movie songs of all time (I can't not think of "Rushmore" whenever I hear it). And really, how come no one write songs like this anymore? You know, long epics with many parts and time changes culminating in a rock-out ending? Who wants to write a song like this with me? And by "with me" I mean you write it and I sit in the corner smoking a joint and eating Tostitos and then I start dancing. Who's with me?

- "Terrapin Station" Grateful Dead
Another long song that brings me back to the days of the early '80's, when I was living in the basement of my friend Ron's house, waking up at 3pm every day, delivering pizzas for a few hours, then spending the rest of my time smoking pot and dropping acid. It was heaven. Of course, this only latest for a few months, because in the summer on a trip upstate Ron punched me in the side of the head while driving because I masturbated into a pair of his boxers and, long story short, we both ended up paralyzed. Sad times indeed.

Did I not mention that I'm in a wheelchair?

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