Below are the 6 most recent journal entries recorded in Sleazy like a Monday morning's LiveJournal:

Tuesday, June 23rd, 2009
2:19 am	I have always been fond of deeply researching my roles. I spent months in a mexican arena, drinking in the smell of man sweat and frying corn for portraying the god of lucha libre in Nacho Libre</i>. I actually turned myself surgically into a panda bear for this kid's flick, the man problem with which was the fleas. And when it came time to do Year One I built a mud hut in my back yard with these two supremely talented bare hands. I then moved into my mud hut, which, let me tell you, got difficult during the steamy months of summer. Mud has a way of seeping into cracks and crevices, of which there are many in this mortal form. It's difficult to justify showers when you're supposed to be researching living like a sexy sexy caveman, and so, when I was on set, I smelled like a man who lived in a house made of mud and did not own a variable pulse headed shower. The girls, they loved it. Women love a man who emits a musk, take it from your Uncle J B. I have been lured back by the siren call of writing my important thoughts and having those among you I classify as peers comment upon them. I know you missed me terribly, you may bring me tribute like an Egyptian king whenever you're ready. And by tribute, I mean chocolate, AC/DC compact discs, and perhaps the young and virginal of your women who bear gravity-defying cans. Failing that, pay your tributes in person to me at jack is tenacious. Thank you, Cleveland. Current Mood: awake Disclaimer (4 comments |comment on this)
Saturday, May 12th, 2007
12:20 pm	I proclaim to one and all within sight of this, all my readers from sea to shining sea, that this will be, without a doubt, the greatest post to ever grace the electronical wonderpages of the beast known to all of us as the LIVEjournal. Why is it, you ask? What makes this post the greatest ever? Read on, ye weary travellers, and abase yourselves in wonderment. When you have concluded reading, your soul will be moved, your eyes will fill with tears, not unlike when the small children wept in the moviehouses in 198-whatever when E.T. came back to life from the edge of death's dark embrace to save young Eliot from the military men who wanted to carve him up because he'd breathed whatever space microbes rocked out inside ET.s breathing apparatus. You will transcend to a higher level when you reach the conclusion. It shall be as though that crusty old enlightener (the Dalia Lama, not Richard Gere, fucko) himself came to you, and laid his withered craggy hands upon your weary head, and said unto you, "RISE MY BRETHREN OR SISTREN, RISE AND WALK INTO THE LIGHT OF THIS DREARY WORLD. AND BRING ME BACK A DOUBLE GULP FROM THE STORE DOWN THE MOUNTAIN, I'M OUT AND NEED MORE FULL THROTTLE ENERGY DRINK FOR MY PRAYIN'". He's the Lama, what're you gonna do, you go and you get him his Full Throttle from the mighty mighty 7-Eleven, where they are not in fact open 7-to-11 unlike their name might suggest, they are, in fact a 24 hour enetrprise, and you have to wonder, why does anyone agree to work there, when it's like holding a sign up outside saying, "Crooks of the world, please come and rob and kill and rape (maybe not in THAT order) the people who wear our fetching red power smocks and take the 46 dollars and three pesetas and one withered old roller grille hotdog, because yes, you don't get shit in a convenience store, and what you do get you pay through the NOSE for, motherfuckers want 3.19 for one sleeve of Chips Ahoy, and how am I supposed to get my cookie on with nothing more than one sleeve and... ...hold on, phone... ...ok, I'm gonna have to take a minute to collect my thoughts because I seriously don't remember what I was talking about. Anybody? No? Well, fuck. There's a moment ruined. I was on a good solid roll, and then some FUCKING GUY has to call wanting to know if I need to spend my hard earned money purchasing a cleaning system for the air ducts in my house. FUCK!! Current Mood: frustrated Current Music: Live and Let Die - Guns N Roses Disclaimer (26 comments |comment on this)
Sunday, March 25th, 2007
5:26 pm	In lieu of an actual entry, I present a musical interlude: It's a bullshit copout, yeah. But it's possibly the most memorable bullshit copout you ever laid your eyeballs on. If this copout entry didn't leave your braincase a smouldering wreck, then I'd check myself directly into the lunatic asylum, and do it soon, because there's something wrong with your insides, Jack. Current Mood: crappy Disclaimer (10 comments |comment on this)
Monday, January 15th, 2007
10:40 pm	Golden Globes While I got it on my mind: Sandra Oh. GOOD LORD, woman. I think I might have drooled a little. Ok, a lot. More later. Current Mood: horny Disclaimer (18 comments |comment on this)
Friday, November 24th, 2006
12:05 am	Rather than post the average, typical and BORING stuff about how I'm thankful for the cool people (they ought to KNOW that I am), I'd like to post a true rock and roll thanksgiving rundown. 1) Up at the crack of 1 pm. Roll out of bed long enough to throw the alarm clock out a very high window. 2) Back in bed for another three hours. 3) 4:15 pm. Stumble out to the kitchen, drink milk out of the container until achieving brainfreeze from the frosty refreshment. 4) Turn up the music loud enough to rattle the windows, and let Bruce Dickinson ring in Thanksgiving with an ode to the Dark Lord within us all. 5) Pizza. Fuck turkey. Tryptophan is not rocking. Nothing that puts you to sleep that easily is rock and roll. 6) Call KG. Annoy him into hanging up by making turkey noises. Repeat as needed until you laugh yourself into a stomach ache. 7) Thank whatever sweet sweet angel watches over the D that we're not Panic at the Disco. Those guys suck balls. 8) Curse Wal-Mart for not being open. 9) Post to the journal. 10) Guitar hero on PS 2 until tumbling into a 10 hour sleep just before sunrise. Current Mood: cheerful Disclaimer (21 comments |comment on this)
Tuesday, November 21st, 2006
1:08 pm	Stand by for my next transmission. Still pulling together all the awesome shit you all expect from the likes of me and mine. Someone get me a fish sandwich. NO SAUCE. Disclaimer (45 comments |comment on this)