Back From The Brink

I think it's finally time to write a new column for the site--and not an interview this time. I have no more excuses, as my bender ended a few days ago and I haven't purchased any liquor since then. As for the woman who inspired the bender, well, I'm done with her, too. Besides, I couldn't be Jeremy the Loner anymore if I settled down in a relationship. And my column wouldn't be the same if I was actually (gasp!) happy for a change. I mean, nobody would want to read a column by "Jeremy the Guy In A Happy, Loving Relationship" would they?

Fuck no, they wouldn't.

The bitterness lives on. I hate everybody on the face of the earth.

Jennifer Aniston's Phone Number

I had another weird ass dream last night. In this one, Jennifer Aniston somehow found out I existed, decided she (*snicker*) liked me, and had someone give me her phone number. Yes, I know that's ridiculous, but bear with me here. It was a dream, okay?

Anyway, so I had this opportunity to go on a date with Jennifer, right? And what did I do? I spent the ENTIRE DREAM staring down at the slip of paper with her number scrawled on it, talking myself out of calling her. "There's no fucking way I'm calling Jennifer Aniston," I told myself. "Who the fuck do I think I am? Her ex was Brad Pitt, for Christ's sake! There's no way in hell that I'm gonna call her." The funny thing is, Jennifer never even appeared in the dream.

Now, I'll bet when you saw that I had a dream about a Hollywood starlet, you were probably expecting me to launch into something straight out of Penthouse Letters. But don't you see what a pathetic prick I am? I'm not even allowed to have fun in my dreams. And I'll be honest with you, that's exactly what I would have done in real life, too.

Not that Aniston will ever read this entry, of course. But you never know--since I started writing this blog just over a month ago, it's taken on a life of its own. I know for a fact that many of the people who read this drivel have never even read my columns. I'm not even sure how they end up finding this blog, unless they like to spend their free time typing weird shit into search engines. Check out this e-mail I got yesterday;

From: "Blodvarg" blodvarg@gmail.com
To: goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com
Subject: "Blog of a Loner"
Date: Mon, 29 Aug 2005 01:37:17 +0200


Hi,

I kind of stumbled over your blog by accident - I must say that it's very consoling to know that I am not the only person with a life that I'd more or less define as worst case scenario. I don't even know why I am writing this, maybe just to practice my English, maybe because there is nothing better to do, maybe to inform you about you not being the only person with a sort of miserable life (sorry to remind you of that again), maybe a bit of everything - but also because I like what I've read until now. As did the other people that read excerpts from your blog. You're the first self-defined loner that has earned kind of international fame, if you want to put it that way.

I know, it seems to be kind of a fan-mail style ass-kissing deluxe, but I somehow had to write this down.

By the way, when I read that you don't have a woman sticking to you all the time, I'd call you "lucky" rather than a "loser". One of the special abilities of this kind of humans is spreading rumours about their boyfriends after leaving them for some faggots they don't even like. The new guy of my 2nd ex-girlfriend actually threatened he'd do things that one can't describe to me if I didn't stop telling her that I want the stuff back that was still at her house. I've waited a year now and for some reason given up hope to ever see anything of it again. Suppose most of humanity is a pile of, well, shite. But to not bother you with details of a life that might sound somewhat familiar to you anyway, I'll stop here. Just wanted you to know that - that what? Well, see above. I don't have a clue why I just wrote all this.

Anyways, greetings from Germany.

- Blodvarg

It's an interesting notion, this whole idea of "Internet celebrity." Dean's Planet is somewhat famous, so those of us who write for it have a small degree of "fame by association." But obviously, I'm NOT famous, otherwise I'd be getting laid constantly. I do like the idea of people around the world reading my blog and identifying with a loser like myself, though. I'm slowly starting to become the "Charlie Brown" of the Internet. Or maybe people read this blog for the same reason I watch Detroit Tigers games; when I watch the Tigers, I know the chances are very good that they're going to get their asses pounded into the ground night after night. But still, regardless of what happens, they go out the next night and try again. That's kind of like me, I guess.

Thanks for the e-mail, Blodvarg. I must say, your English is quite good. In fact, you seem to have a better grasp on the language than most Americans do.

Vodka On The Sabbath

Ahhh, it feels good to be on my first true bender in months. So what if it's not even 3:00 in the afternoon? I never understood that whole "it's too early" mentality when it comes to eating and drinking certain things. If I want to eat cold pizza for breakfast at 8:00am, that's my fucking business. Likewise, if I want vodka in the middle of the afternoon, I'm gonna go right ahead and have some. I don't care if some people think it's "too early." Who says so?? Besides, I only go on drinking binges because I can't go on sex binges. I'd much rather do that, but I don't have any groupies. Damn women.

I finally got around to finishing my latest interview, so look for that on the main page shortly. It will probably be my last interview for a while, because I'm in the mood to start writing angry columns again. You'll see soon enough, unless my life magically stops sucking within the next few days.

And those damn Classic Broad nominations keep coming in, fast and furious. Here's one that came in just as I started writing this;

From: "Nicholas Sheffo" inskolchak@hotmail.com
To: goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com
Subject: Classic broad nomination.
Date: Sun, 28 Aug 2005 14:18:57 -0400


How about Diana Rigg?

How about Diana Rigg??? Who the fuck is that? Was she before my time or something? I should ask my friend Marc about her--he's an expert on actors and actresses that most people forgot about 20 years ago. I would ask him, but I don't care enough about this chick to do so. How many times do I have to say it, the Classic Broads column is over.

At this point, I think people are sending in nominations for the sole purpose of pissing me off. Well, fuck you, because I'm already pissed off. I don't need any additonal help.

Weird

Get a load of this dream I just had. (And no, my use of the word "load" isn't sexual in this case.) It involved a cut on my right index finger, an ex-girlfriend, hiding in an abandoned mall from a gang, the ultimate fate of a vinyl copy of Air Supply's Greatest Hits and the guy who played Skippy on Family Ties.

Damn, I think I need therapy. I'm pretty sure that normal people's minds don't work the way mine does.

As if that wasn't enough, I got yet another e-mail regarding Steve Gonsalves, the guy from the TV show Ghost Hunters that I interviewed a while back;

From: "Michele Gouveia" Michi@4Frogs.com
To: goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com
Subject: Steve Gonsalves
Date: Fri, 26 Aug 2005 01:37:32 -0400


Just tell Steve Gonsalves that I love him.

That's all.

:)

Michele Gouveia

Dammit, this is the third time in two days that some chick told me they had the hots for Steve. Apparently, the guy is a real stallion. Who knew? But still, why don't any chicks tell me they want ME???

Oh, that's right. Because I'm a fucking loser.

Head Over Heels

One of my favourite songs of the era. (Please note the British spelling of the word "favorite.")

I wanted to be with you alone
And talk about the weather
But traditions I can trace against the child in your face
Won't escape my attention

You keep your distance in the system of touch
And gentle persuasion
I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much
Oh you're wasting my time
You're just wasting time.

Something happens and I'm head over heels
I never find out until I'm head over heels
Something happens and I'm head over heels
Ahhh, don't take my heart
Don't break my heart
Don't throw it away.

I made a fire and watching it burn
Thought of your future
With one foot in the past now, just how long will it last
No no no, have you no ambition
My mother and my brothers used to breathing clean air
And dreaming I'm a doctor
It's hard to be man when there's a gun in your hand
Oh I feel so...

Something happens and I'm head over heels
I never find out until I'm head over heels
Something happens and I'm head over heels
Ahhh, don't take my heart
Don't break my heart
Don't throw it away.

And this is my four leaf clover
I'm on the line, one open mind
This is my four leaf clover

In my mind's eye
One little boy, one little man
Funny how time flies.

I'm Stupid

Well, I did it again--I violated one of my own rules and did something I try to NEVER do. I was drinking yesterday (surprise, surprise) when I received a rather depressing e-mail. In my drunken state, I thought it might be a good idea to respond to said e-mail, even though I had previously vowed to NEVER write important e-mail while intoxicated--just like I vowed to NEVER call women in that state, either. We all know what happened the last time I tried that. I still haven't heard back from that broad.

Anyway, cheap vodka has this funny way of clouding my judgement, so I threw caution to the wind and fired off a drunken missive. Then I sent it, without even bothering to read it over. Now, I should tell you, the last time I hit the bottle was some weeks ago at my brother's house, in which I got royally sloshed and made an asshole of myself. And when I read over the e-mail I wrote this morning in the cold, hard, sobering light of day, I buried my face in my hands and went "I can't believe I wrote that. Holy fuck, am I stupid." I feel like George did in that episode of Seinfeld when he left a dumb, rambling message on his girlfriend's answering machine--and he kept picturing the machine sitting there with it's little blinking red light, as if to say "Hey everybody, come and listen to the idiot!"
I keep picturing my e-mail in her inbox, and it's saying almost the same thing.
I'm so fucking dumb sometimes.

Oh well. I heard from Samantha today, a longtime reader of mine AND a former columnist here on Dean's Planet. I wish she still wrote for the site. I dig this woman.

From: "Sam C."
To: goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com
Subject: Hello again
Date: Wed, 24 Aug 2005 00:10:00 -0700


Hi there Jeremy,

Good to see you're not dead, or half way there, drowning in cheap beer and vodka.

Nice Trump article, I really enjoyed it and I feel your pain... I don't even have to be anywhere near him or his towers or his wealth and he still bothers me. Then again, a lot of people, things, and... ok people, bother me. I know that 'hate' you feel for basically no reason... Ooooh I know it well. It creeps up, but I've figured out a way to curb it.... Just degrade the people in writing, gossip, and general malicious acts. I'm a big fan of malicious acts. Anyway, you keep well, i'm sorry to hear about your Papa - my nana is going nuts, she's 88 and tells us how her dog saved her life when she was 4.

Bye for now,

Samantha

Why, oh why, can't I meet women like this in my personal life? She has a bemused, overall sense of dislike for humanity, just like I do. Plus, she can actually write coherently, which is another plus--and in my experience, somewhat rare. But I never meet women like this, which is probably why I'll be single for the rest of my miserable life.

Oh well, I guess it could be worse. At least I'm not hung over.

What The Fuck..???

I get a pretty decent amount of e-mail, but I can't say I've ever gotten one like THIS before. Check this out;

Date: Mon, 22 Aug 2005 12:40:14 -0700 (PDT)
From: "Layla Marie" smeeme163@yahoo.com
Subject: Bruce Kulick Interview
To: goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com


Hello,

I had hoped to enjoy this interview and was looking forward to it greatly. It's always just the same with BK. Fun interview if you're 15, but it's bs like the KISS crap out there.

BK's been treating my terminally ill mother like shit for weeks after she simply ordered a bunch of cd's and pictures. Yes long story indeed. She got hooked by his nice personality but really turned off by his need to get money and feed his own pathetic ego. She got drained and gave up. He cancelled a bunch of her orders without a simple word of explanation. Not a very nice way to handle business if you ask me.

I sent him an email weeks ago myself, but as my mother thought, he's not strong enough to handle independant people who are more successful than he is...and I never heard back from him. Whatever. My mother has been given a few months... I think it's sad but she sure as hell has fewer problems than he does. Try a real rock star for interviews next time, this one was nice but for little girls and guys who can't deal in the real world. Some of us have to.

What an asshole BK is but I am a real person and I know it's just the way it is with him. Frankly, he needs a shrink. He will after he gets her obituary.

Seriously dissapointed

Layla Levesque

So, let me get this straight... Bruce Kulick has been mistreating this chick's mom, who only has a few months to live. Okay...

I don't know what to make of this. Talk amongst yourselves...

Who, Me?

I've been thinking of asking out a chick that I work with. For some odd reason, she blatantly flirts with me every time I see her. Now, I'm sure that isn't a big deal for some of you dudes out there, but with my horrible self image, I'm always genuinely surprised when a woman gets flirty with me. Especially when it's an attractive woman, and this chick isn't too shabby in the looks department. Nope, not too shabby at all. I just can't figure out why she likes me. Shit, I don't even like me.

I guess I could ask her out. I mean, lord knows I'm craving some female attention in the worst way. But I did the whole "dating a co-worker" thing in the past, and it always ended up badly. It's just too difficult to be in a professional work environment with a woman you're banging. You have to pretend nothing's up, but the whole time you're working with her, all you can think of when you look at her is "I saw you naked last night." Kinda makes it hard to concentrate on the job, you know?

I dated this one co-worker a few years back, and it was just too weird to deal with. We fooled around at my apartment one night, it got a bit heated, and the next day I had to go into work with a huge hickey on my neck. I was actually pretty embarrassed about it, because it was really, really noticable and there was no way to cover it up. Now, had I been 13 years old, it would have been pretty cool to have an obnoxious-looking hickey for all the world to see. But I was long out of high school at this point, so it just looked... well, kind of pathetic. All day long, my friends at work kept ripping on me about it. "Hey Jeremy, nice hickey!" They didn't even know that I'd gotten the hickey from a girl who worked there--but everytime somebody brought it up, you could see her face flush red with embarrassment. Our relationship didn't last too much longer after that.

I actually saw her again recently. We happened to be in the same aisle at the grocery store, and we stopped and talked for a few minutes. It was a polite, innocent conversation--but still, you know what I was thinking in the back of my mind?

"Heh, I've seen her naked."

I don't know, maybe it's a guy thing. Although... I suppose it's possible that the whole time we were talking, she was looking at me and thinking;

"Heh, I've seen his package."

I wonder if women are like that, too. In a way, I hope they aren't, because the sight of my naked body is probably an image that's best forgotten.

So, as far as this new girl at work goes, I might ask her out. I don't know. I guess I have nothing to lose. Besides, I'm lonely... damn lonely. Even loners want some affection every now and then.

Pop Tarts On Sunday

There is absolutely NO reason why I should be up at 7:00am on a Sunday, other than being too tanked to sleep--which isn't the case, sadly. Damn job made me get up. And I like sleeping. Life is so much better when you're asleep. So here I sit, hoping for a Pop Tarts sugar high to kick in before I trudge off to spend my day working alongside idiots. It's okay if I say that, though. None of them has the slightest idea that I'm a writer for this site, so I don't have to worry about them reading this. I doubt that most of them can read anyway. Yeah, yeah, I know that wasn't funny, but what the hell do you want from me? It's 7:00 in the morning, so shut the fuck up.

On a totally unrelated note, some of you might remember a column I wrote about former teen idol Kirk Cameron a few months back entitled Kirk Cameron Vs. The Homosexuals. I would post the link, but I'm too damn tired. Anyway, I said some less-than-kind things about Kirk in that column regarding his religious beliefs, and Christians have been writing to me ever since to tell me how wrong I am about Kirk. (I even posted an e-mail from one of them in this blog a while back.) Funny, but I never realized just how many Christians read Dean's Planet, looking for sexy Jessica Alba pics. Go figure.

You want to know what's even funnier? Kirk Cameron KNOWS about the column. I had a little chat with his manager the other day and I invited Kirk to explain his beliefs a little further here on the site. So his manager said he'd talk it over with Kirk and maybe get back to me.

I must say, Cameron would definitely earn my admiration if he had the balls to come on a sinful site like Dean's Planet to try and show an asshole like Jeremy the Loner "the way to the Lord." I'm not holding my breath, though. Hell, after some of the shit I wrote, I'm far more likely to hear from Kirk's attornies than I am to hear from Kirk himself.

So, could a Kirk Cameron interview be coming to Dean's Planet? Probably not, to be honest with you. But you never know...

Stupid Local News...

I just had the news on, and they were doing a story about where to find cheap gas in the area. They promised to reveal gas stations that were selling gas for "only $2.49 a gallon!"

Go ahead, let that sink in for a minute... "only" $2.49 a gallon.

Oh great. Now I'm all pissed off.

Got Some Food. Still Missing Liquor.

For the first time in a while, I actually had a decent meal tonight. My aunt was in town to sign the papers for selling my grandfather's house, and she took me out to dinner. I don't turn down free meals, believe me. Fuck, I'd gladly go out to dinner with Satan, as long as that motherfucker was picking up the tab. Ahhh, it was so nice to eat something other than macaroni and cheese and frozen burritos. I'm so damn broke.

But I guess Papa's house is officially sold now--not that any of you give a flying fuck. I still can't believe he's gone. And I still can't believe I'll never be in that house again. It seems like only yesterday I was a 14 year old boy, stealing his liquor for inappropriate drinking games with the girl down the street. It seems like only yesterday I was raiding his vast collection of Playboy centerfolds with my cousin. I can only hope that one day I'll have a grandson, too, a grandson that will steal liquor from me. You know, to pass on the family tradition.

No, scratch that. What the hell am I saying?? He'd better not even think of touching my booze. I'll kill that little prick.

So, I finished another interview yesterday. Don't expect to see it for a while, though, because I think Dean has one coming up first. Besides, I'm kind of getting tired of doing interviews. I dislike kissing people's asses and asking them dumb questions. I did learn something from this particular interview, however--if you're interviewing a person who starred in one of the most successful movie trilogies of all time, don't ask them a million questions about it. I've learned that it pisses them off. (You'll see soon enough.)

Oh well, I think I'm much more entertaining as a prick anyway. So... look for me to "get back to my roots" soon. But while we're on the subject of interviews;

From: Soupytap@aol.com
Date: Thu, 18 Aug 2005 21:54:05 EDT
Subject: eg daily
To: goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com


Nice job on the interview, I feel the same way about her as well. Just wish you brought up that topless scene in Valley Girl..lol. She is so cute.

You know what, I actually thought about bringing up the topless scene. It was tasty, and yeah, I enjoyed it. But I ultimately decided against it--I mean, it was pathetic enough for me to be hitting on her the way I was. I think that mentioning how much I enjoyed her boobs might have edged me slightly over the "fan" line and into the dreaded "stalker" territory.

I've got enough things to worry about already--I don't need any restraining orders.

Work. Damn It All, Anyway

I have to work in less than half an hour. I really, really, really don't want to go.
Why can't I find a job that I actually enjoy? Why can't I find a job in something that I'm actually good at?

If only someone would pay me to just be an asshole. Think of all the money I'd have.
But no, instead I have to go to some job I hate, put on a fake smile, work with people I'd rather not be around, and help people I can't stand.

Stay in school, kids. For the love of God, stay in school.

The Captain... Again?

Okay, okay, I promise not to make any more posts regarding Captain Smackdown, producer extraordinare. The thing is, I actually have nothing against the guy. He sent me an e-mail saying he'd met Prince, I asked for some stories, then he kind of disappeared (until he did a "goggle" search and found my blog, that is). I don't think I said anything too terrible about the guy, but last night I got an e-mail from a friend of his which attempted to take me to task. (Please note my use of the word "attempted," dear readers.) Why did he choose to go off on me? I have no idea, man. Maybe he wants some attention.

Well, I aim to please. Below, you will find his e-mail to me, in its entirety. My comments are in italics.

Date: Mon, 15 Aug 2005 15:31:20 -0700 (PDT)
From: "steve g" bklynginsburg@yahoo.com
Subject: Prince, The Captain and your stupidity
To: goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com


Dear Far too Klutzy,

I could tell I was in for a thrashing of epic proportions when his opening insult to me was "far too klutzy." Damn, that stings. And what was he basing my alledged "klutziness" on, anyway? The way I type? I could tell right away this guy was a complete idiot.

I am sorry that your closet door is stuck.

Aw, that's okay. I called my apartment's maintainence people yesterday and they said they'd send someone out to fix it this week. How did you know my closet door was stuck, anyway? Are you peeking in my windows, you fucking pervert?

Be careful not to disrespect that which you do not know.

Sounds like someone spends too much time reading fortune cookies. Whatever you say, Confucious.

The Captain is an old Associate of mine from First Avenue...

WOW, you actually KNOW the Captain?? For fuck's sake, somebody alert the media!!
Since you're so tight with "the Captain," tell me... how is Tennille doing?

...and has you by the balls you little bitch.

Oh, I see... the Captain has me "by the balls" and I'M the one whose closet door is stuck? I think you're a bit confused there, champ.

I have worked with both Prince and Captain Smackdown. Frankly, you're neither.
Thank God.

That's true, I'm neither Prince or Captain Smackdown. I must congratulate you on your keen grasp of the obvious. In other stunning news, I'm also not Shania Twain or the Pope.

I realize you may be somewhat bored in you parents basement.

Apparently not as bored as you are, seeing as how you have to send insulting e-mail to defend some guy that nobody's ever heard of. But then again, I guess you can only masturbate to animal porn so many times in a given day.

Remain aware that any unauthorized reuse of email is a Federal offence.
OOOps Too Late

Thanks for the warning, but just the same I think I'll "use" your e-mail in any way I see fit. Just like I used your mother's ass as a banging tool when I had her bent over my couch last night. So yeah, I think I'll use your e-mail to goof on how stupid you are--then, I think I'll print it out and let my cats shit on it.

So, now you're going to sic the Feds on me? Ooooooooh!!!
Bring it on, dick monkey.

There's a lot of fucking stupid people in this world.

Dammit...

I am so sick and tired of hearing about Gwenyth Paltrow and her stupid child, Apple. So she had a baby... big fucking deal. Anybody, and I mean ANYBODY, can have a baby--even me. What, you don't believe me? Bring your mom over sometime, and I'll knock her up for you while your dad watches. I saw a blurb on AOL News the other day about how Paltrow wants to direct a film or some shit, and she plans on having little Apple on the set. What important news that was, eh? I'm sure they broke into live programming on CNN to report this world-changing information.

Now, I ask you, why the fuck is the entertainment media fixated on this brat? Because it's Gwenyth Paltrow's kid, or because she named it "Apple?" AM I THE ONLY PERSON IN AMERICA WHO PLAIN DOESN'T GIVE A FUCK???

But God, think about that for a minute. "Apple." As if junior high school didn't suck bad enough already. Imagine being named after a fucking piece of fruit. It wasn't even any fun being named "Jeremy," because I had to deal with people mispronouncing it as "Germy." Get it? They were implying that I was covered with germs! HAR HAR HAR. They made fun of my last name, too, which is "Wright." All kinds of people thought they were being witty when they called me "Germy Wrong" or "Jeremy Left." Sometimes, they'd sing that old Three Dog Night song to me. You know which one I'm talking about;

"Jeremiah was a bullfrog!
Was a good friend of mine!"

Those fuckers just about killed me with their wit. And don't even get me started on the assholes that liked to sing the Pearl Jam song...

Still, at least I can take solace in the fact that my parents weren't moronic celebrities that named me Apple. It wouldn't have made sense to name me that, anyway--I think "Pear" would be a more appropriate name for me. Or maybe "Peaches."

"Avacado?"

Fuck it, I need to get ready for work.

What About Me?

Well there's a little boy waiting at the counter
Of a corner shop
He's been waiting down there,
Waiting half the day
They never, ever see him from the top
He gets pushed around, knocked to the ground
He gets to his feet and he says
What about me?
It isn't fair
I've had enough, now I want my share
Can't you see
I want to live
But you just take more than you give

Well there's a pretty girl serving at the counter
Of a corner shop
She's been waiting back there,
Waiting for a dream
Well dreams walk in and out,
They never stop
Well she's not too proud to cry out loud
She runs to the street and she screams
What about me?
It isn't fair
I've had enough, now I want my share
Can't you see
I want to live
But you just take more than you give
More than you give

Take a step back and see the little people
They might be young, but they're the ones
That make the big people big
So listen, as we whisper
What about me?

Now I'm standing on the corner
All the world's gone home
Nobody's changed
Nobody's been saved
And I'm feeling cold and alone
I guess I'm lucky
I smile a lot
But sometimes I wish for more
Than I've got

What about me?
It isn't fair
I've had enough, now I want my share
Can't you see
I want to live
But you just take more
You just take more
You just take more than you give

What about me?
What about me?
What about... me?

Further Adventures With The Cap'n

It seems that Prince's buddy Captain Smackdown caught wind of my previous blog post regarding him. It also seems that he was mildly offended by some of the cracks that were made. Read on;

Date: Sat, 13 Aug 2005 16:18:04
From: hishonor@captainsmackdown.com
Subject: caught your blog on...a goggle search
To: "Jeremy The Loner" goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com


"I don't give a damn for a man that can only spell a word one way." --
Mark Twain

that kinda sums up...my view.....!!! if it is good enough for Twain, it
is good enough for me...

i didn't think i warranted any comments, but you posted something
anyway!

i am glad i provided fodder for your cannon...

words are a forte, but spelling is not my strong suit

and you have honored me with a few more goggle entries

for that i thank you...all the best to you J...

Cinnsearly

CAPTAINSMCKDOWN,

Well, anyway, it's good to see that I'm not the only one pathetic enough to Google myself and see if anyone is talking about me. It's funny, actually--since I did the Melissa Midwest and Ashley Renee interviews, typing "jeremy the loner" into certain search engines will bring up plenty of porn links.

Damn, how flattering! Porn sites are using me to get traffic! I feel so... so... loved! (In a dirty, nasty way!)

I can't understand why the good Captain was offended by what I wrote. Hell, I wasn't making fun of his spelling so much as I was wondering what the fuck he was talking about. Besides, a lot of my readers can't spell--I get plenty of e-mail from grown men that reads like it was written by retarded guppies. So why did he have to drag Mark Twain into it?

Oh well, he seems to like the attention, so here ya go, Cap'n. Enjoy the additional Google entry. And thanks for the e-mail--it's better than Classic Broad nominations, of which I've received four in the last two days alone...

Suicide Watch?

I just realized that "Better Off Dead" post I made a couple of days ago might have seemed a bit cryptic, as if I'm pining away for some chick, thinking I can't live without her. Believe me, that isn't the case--although I'm sure there's at least one woman reading this blog who thinks I was talking about her. Apparently, everybody I know reads this stupid blog, which is funny, because I never told anyone I was writing it. Why would I do that? Every loser on the face of the earth has a blog... and nobody cares about it but them. So, how many people read my blog? I don't know, and I'm too tired to care.

The truth is, the song lyrics were nothing more than a reference to yet another celebrity interview that I just finished. That's all. But don't worry, my recent rash of interviews hasn't gotten me thinking that I'm a "real" writer or anything. I've just been on a streak where a few people actually said "yes." But the thing is, the interviews don't go over nearly as well as the column--and I hardly ever get e-mail on them. I guess they're too "serious" or whatever. But anyway, just in case any of you actually give a shit, my latest interview will be posted once someone snatches the bottle out of Dean's hand.

And if you don't care, what the fuck are you doing here? Find something else to do, asshole.

Howard Stern Call In Detroit

So, I had the TV on just minutes ago and the local news broke into regular programming with a BREAKING NEWS story--there were explosions of some kind at a chemical plant a few miles from where I live, and the police were evacuating people that were in the line of danger.

The local newscasters started taking calls from "witnessses" in the area. One such call came from a man named "Frank Risso," and the idiots at the media decided to put him on the air... live.

"Hmmmm, 'Frank Rizzo,' huh?" I thought to myself. "Obviously a prank call. I wonder if this is a Stern call?"

Sure enough, the caller said the word "shit" on live TV, then told the reporters that he believed the explosions were caused by Howard Stern's balls. The reporters looked like deer in headlights, having no clue as to how to deal with the situation. Obviously, none of them were under the age of 35. And obviously, none of them were fans of The Jerky Boys.

I'm sure somebody in my neck of the woods will call Howard tomorrow to trumpet his success. He should, too. The media is run by morons.

That's right, channel 4, WDIV in Detroit--I'm talking to you. Good job, Stern fan.

Better Off Dead

I'd rather be a fool
I'd be lost with someone new
I'd be better off dead
Than to live without you

I've been searching every day
Trying to find another way
I'd be better off dead
Than to live without you.

My First Marriage Proposal

Do you hear the wedding bells? Can you envision the hot bridesmaids? Can you imagine the open bar at the reception? Of course you can! Who the fuck would get married unless they were blind drunk?

Here's part of an IM conversation I had last night;

SLINKEE x star [8.22 PM] hey!
JeremyTLoner [8:23 PM]: Hey!
SLiNKEE x star [8:23 PM]: i love your column at deansplanet! you're soo awesome and funny :)
JeremyTLoner [8:25 PM]: You're too kind.
SLiNKEE x star [8:25 PM]: why don't you do the classic woman of the month anymore?
JeremyTLoner [8:25 PM]: Ahhh, you don't read my blog.
SLiNKEE x star [8:26 PM]: yes i do!
SLiNKEE x star [8:26 PM]: why?
JeremyTLoner [8:26 PM]: I talked all about it on there.
SLiNKEE x star [8:26 PM]: aww i must've missed it
SLiNKEE x star [8:28 PM]: will you marry me?
JeremyTLoner [8:28 PM]: No.
SLiNKEE x star [8:28 PM]: you just broke my heart
JeremyTLoner [8:28 PM]: You'll get over it.
SLiNKEE x star [8:29 PM]: aww maybe not
JeremyTLoner [8:29 PM]: Let me guess... you're 15?16?
SLiNKEE x star [8:29 PM]: no! 17 actually
SLiNKEE x star [8:29 PM]: and very mature by the way
JeremyTLoner [8:29 PM]: Wow, damn near legal! This is a first!
SLiNKEE x star [8:30 PM]: yes! see i told you
SLiNKEE x star [8:30 PM]: i'm almost legal..very close

So there you have it--my marriage proposal. Now, I know what you all were thinking... only a 15 year old chick would hit on me in an IM, right? WRONG! In another year, I could do anything I wanted with this chick, and not even get hassled by "the man." In the meantime, though, posting this IM exchange might well leave her vulnerable to being hit on by horny guys all over the USA, some of them lacking the moral fibre of a decent man like myself...

Oh well, she said she'd love it if I wrote about her. Enjoy being famous, honey. You're about to find out first hand how many sick, perverted fucks populate this grand rhealm known as the Internet.

Nahhh.... I'm sure ALL of my readers are decent, caring human beings. Right? Right...???

The Avatar To Your Right...

... is actually a picture of me. It's not a recent picture, of course, but it's me--and it probably marks one of the last times anybody was allowed to take my picture without being threatened with bodily harm. Much like my mother, I'm definitely NOT photogenic. I saw mom's driver's license one time, and the picture gave me nightmares for two weeks. She's not an unattractive woman, but that picture.... DAMN. She's staring at the camera with a grimace of death on her face. But then again, waiting in line for several hours at the Secretary of State's office is enough to put a scowl on ANYBODY'S face...

You have to admit, though, I was a cute little sonufabitch, wasn't I? The funny thing is, I still somewhat resemble that little boy--at the very least, my hair looks exactly the same. Unfortunately, I'm no longer cute... not by a lo-o-o-o-ong shot. It's pretty bad when you hit your physical peak at the age of two. The funny thing is, I got an IM from some chick asking me if the picture was my son. HA HA, not quite. No, that would imply that I actually get laid now and then.

Which I do, of course. Absolutely. Only losers never get laid.

****LONG, UNCOMFORTABLE SILENCE****

Anyway, here's further evidence for the "I-told-you-nobody-reads-this-stupid-blog" department--yet another Classic Broad nomination, which came in last night;


Date: Sat, 6 Aug 2005 13:14:35 -0700 (PDT)
From: "Andrew Gardner" andrew.gardner@sbcglobal.net
Subject: Classic Broad of the Month
To: goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com

Great site.

Why no Catherine Zeta Jones?

Consider her nominated.
AG, Chicago

Catherine Zeta Jones as a Classic Broad? Is this guy on crack??? She's only a few years older than I am! Besides, like I said last week, I'm not doing that column anymore. I can't help but wonder if someone else is willing to take up the mantle and carry it on.

Come on, there's got to be some horny guys out there who are also decent writers...

Dean Lives!

It's good to see Dean's Planet back with a major update. On the other hand, people will probably stop reading this blog, now that there's pictures of Tara Reid's ass to gaze upon. I can't compete with that. Oh well, I might as well write anyway. At least Dean got the site up and running yesterday--he was telling me it wouldn't be until next Wednesday. And if it took THAT long, you fickle bastards would desert us and go to another site to find your girlie pics...

By the way, did you know that Dean actually has business cards? He sent me a package recently that was supposed to go to KC Armstrong, but he got the addresses mixed up. (I guess it didn't dawn on Dean that KC probably doesn't live in suburban Detroit.) Anyway, there was a nice looking business card in the package, which read, simply;

Dean S. Planet
Celebrity Journalist

I was suitably impressed. Not that it's difficult to get business cards or anything--any moron can get them. But I must admit, it got me thinking "Wow, Dean has business cards. How come I don't have business cards?" In the end, though, I decided that I don't really qualify as a "celebrity journalist." I suppose I could still get some cards made, but if I wanted to make them honest they'd have to read;

Jeremy the Loner
Angry Prick Who Writes About Bullshit

Doesn't quite have the same ring.

One more thing; the KISS related interview that Dean currently has on the main page has nothing to do with MY interview--it's just a coincidence. I'm gonna work on it this weekend. And why not? It's not like I'll be going on dates or anything...

Another JTL Interview...

...is in the works, but it probably won't excite you much unless you're a big KISS fan. So, who is the interview with? Gene Simmons maybe? Eric Singer? Vinnie Vincent? A disgruntled former roadie? Talk amongst yourselves...

Captain Smackdown and the Rude Boy

I wrote a column recently about Purple Rain, one of my favorite "this-is-so-shitty-I-can't-help-but-love-it" movies of the 80's. (www.deansplanet.com/jeremy_the_loner_purple_rain.html)
I was going to write a Part II for that column, but now I'm not so sure. It's really not an article most people would get much from, unless you've seen Purple Rain an obscene amout of times--like I have. I will say, though, that Prince fans seemed to "get it," and some of them sent me some pretty interesting letters.

One such letter came from a guy who calls himself Captain Smackdown. He claims that he actually worked at First Avenue, where much of the film was shot, during Prince's heyday. "I was there," he told me. "And I've got stories." I must admit, my curiousity was piqued--Prince is one strange motherfucker after all, and I'm sure anybody who's ever met him would have interesting stories to tell, like; "Yeah, I was standing next to Prince at a urinal one time when he stomped on my toes with his spiked boots for no reason. Then, he handed me a purple flower and walked away." So I wrote back to Captain Smackdown and asked him for the goods. His response was;

From: hishonor@captainsmackdown.com
Subject: caught your article on...
To: "Jeremy The Loner" goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com

what do you want? an overveiw...the shows... i can go PRE-purple
rain... i whacked into prince when he was in his "dirty minds: stage....
i blew him over on the dance floor doing a dohsee doe with a gal
to "the suburbs" (another minneapolis band) "i like cows" song
at "the longhorn" he was in jockey briefs and a rain coat!! circa 1980
or 81?

it kinda of a blur??!!!

see him 5 times at first ave...sheila e....i bartended for morris days
birthday party... knew chic...served prince MANY times in the VIP....room....
do you want it philosophical or just the facts???
give me an assignment ??? the flava...a direction???
questions??? i work better with input!!

captainsmackdown!

Hmm, an "interesting" guy, to say the least. I checked out his website and apparently, he's a writer/record producer, or some shit like that. I wasn't sure what the hell he was talking about, though, so I wrote him back and asked what he had in mind. Thus far, Captain Smackdown has been silent since then. Maybe he's too busy doing "dohsee does" in the VIP room, serving drinks to Morris Day. Who the fuck knows.

Drop me a line, good Captain. And if any Prince fans would like to see Part II of my Purple Rain column, let me know. Otherwise, I'll have a few beers and not bother.

Jeezus Pleezus

Just in case there was any lingering doubt as to whether or not I know anything about women--and I don't--get a load of this e-mail I received from a certain female friend of mine, who wanted to get together with me this past weekend;

I DID want to see you, now that I think about it, it would have been wrong. I just wanted to make out and now that has passed. I would feel guilty about just using you for that.

I'll let the men out there take a few moments and let that sink in... she doesn't want to "use" me, you see. That just wouldn't be right, would it? No, please, not that. Anything but that. Because as we all know, any man would be DEEPLY offended if some woman wanted to be with him for the sole purpose of getting her rocks off. Let me tell you, I am just seething with indignation right now.

You know, for the past three years I've been involved with an "older woman" in an off-again, on-again series of... um... encounters. How old is she? Well, let me put it this way--she's old enough that my mother would have a coronary if she had ANY idea this was going on. She'd be like "You're just a kid! What could a woman that age possibly want in a... a... KID???" That's the amusing thing about mothers; you could live to be 112 years old, but you'll always be "just a kid" to them.

Anyway, this woman calls me from time to time, and when she DOES call, we both know damn well what the reason is. Many is the night that I've been awaken at 1:30am by the telephone ringing in my ear, with her on the line telling me "I'm just lying here in bed right now, thinking about you. Why don't you come over?" Now, it doesn't take a genius to figure out this is nothing more than a booty call. And rest assured, within three minutes I'm pulling on a pair of socks, combing my hair and brushing my teeth, all at the same time. Hell yeah, mofos, I'm ready to rock.

I must say, the two of us have a wonderful arrangement worked out. There are no discussions about whether or not the other person is seeing anybody else. There are no long, uncomfortable conversations in which we ruminate about the nature of our relationship, pondering the greater significance of it all. As soon as I walk in the door, she grabs me by the collar and pulls me down on the couch with her. Conversation is kept to a bare minimum, and as long as my hands are all over her, she's prefectly happy. Is she using me? Of course she is! She wants me around for one reason, and one reason only--pure carnality. But therein lies the fundamental difference between men and women--see, women get offended when you treat them like pieces of meat, but me, I like it. I like it a whole lot. I only wish it happened more often. Like every hour on the hour. At the very least, it would help me cure my horrible self-esteem problem.

So please, use me, abuse me... just be gentle, okay?

Did I mention that I know nothing about women??

Reading Through Some E-mail...

... and I come across this. I've been getting some weird e-mail lately. Some of you people are fucking odd, you know that?

From: mensa4@sbcglobal.net
To: goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com
Subject: CELEB DIRT

Do you have any good dirt on Shannen Doherty, Carmen Electra, Julianne Moore, and Katie Couric?

No, no, no and no. I'm not a tabloid writer, man. Wish I was, though... I hear they get paid. Hey, National Enquierer, you guys wanna hire me? I'll write about whatever the fuck you want me to write about. Hell, I'll even pretend to be interested in Lindsay Lohan's love life. And who goes around looking for "dirt" on Katie Couric, anyway? Is she secretly a naughty girl?

Oh man, I actually find that strangely arousing. Damn, I'm lonely.

Also, 50 Cent has a song called Ryder Music about how he as "done" half of Hollywood.

Sample:
Last year, I woke up, a good look, damn it feels good
On the low, I done fucked half of Hollywood
Had your favorite actress from your favorite shows
In my favorite position, you know how it goes

What a classy guy. I'm feelin' ya, my nigga!

In my Bentley bumpin' Prince shit
"This is When Thugs Cry"
This is what it sounds like when hollow tip slugs fly
Homie, this is somethin' you can ride and smoke to
Stay on point, cause *****s will ride and smoke you
Jealousy's for women, but some *****s is bitch made

Just to interject here, why did this guy find it necessary to block out the profanity? Was he worried that I might be offended or something? I like how he's coming to me for "dirt" when he's apparently never even read my fucking column. Anyway, back to the genius that is 50 Cent;

They make you wanna run across they're head with a switch blade
They point their finger at me, sayin' I'm bug
My flows crack you listen, your fuckin' brains on drugs
Look, ice drippin' on my neck, hands grippin' on the tec
Fool trippin' through the set, you can get ya ass whipped
Cards missin' out my deck, screws loose show respect
You try to come at me kid, your ass better come correct

For fuck's sake, how long is this stupid song??? I can actually feel myself getting dumber as I read through this drivel. Dammit, if my IQ drops any lower, I'll turn into a Clay Aiken fan...

Any idea who some of those women are?

Thanks

No, OF COURSE I don't know who any of these women are! I wish I did know, though, so I could smack them in the face for being dumb enough to fuck a moron like 50 Cent. Whatever possessed this guy to think I'd give two fucks about 50 Cent in the first place?? Listen, 50 Cent licks the sack. I can't believe I just posted some of his "lyrics" on my blog...

I fucking hate "hip hop." And if you like it, I fucking hate you, too.
Dammit, I need to punch somebody.

Slacking?

I know some of you have been wondering why there's been a lack of updates on the main page these past few days. To tell you the truth, I was starting to wonder about it myself. I actually wrote a new column the other day that has yet to be posted. So what's the deal, you ask? Did Dean get himself a sex crazed woman that's been too busy rocking his world to let him update the site? Did he follow my example and discover the joys of cheap vodka? (Because if he has, we may never hear from him again.)

Nah... I just heard from Dean, and as it turns out, he just moved into a new place and hasn't got his Internet up and running yet. That's all. I was actually hoping he'd found himself a nympho; 'cause then he could maybe hook me up with one of her friends or something. No such luck.

By the way, I changed the settings on this blog so that it now takes comments from EVERYBODY, whether you're registered or not. If you feel like commenting, go right ahead. If not, I assure you, my feelings won't be hurt. No matter what anybody says, believe me, I've heard worse and I've been called worse...