Pat Freestone

Pat Freestone is a video store clerk from Puyallup, Washington. He currently resides in Yonkers, New York, where he is employed as Night Assistant Manager at Big Screen Video. His hobbies include watching movies, surfing the internet, and compensating for his astigmatism. Pat, age 43, is currently single. He is totally not gay.








March 28, 2005

DON'T LET PAT FREESTONE DIE!



Dear Friends,
Today we are faced with a dire situation, as Pat Freestone lies waiting to DIE at the hands of his fellow man. Despite the fact that Pat is a living, breathing human with a beating heart, there are those who wish to take away his basic human rights and declare him DEAD. Help us stop this barbaric and brutal MURDER. Life is sacred, even when it takes the form of something like Pat Freestone.


DON'T KILL BABIES-OR PAT FREESTONE!



--paid for by People for Life Especially Babies




March 21, 2005

LET PAT FREESTONE DIE WITH DIGNITY!



Since February 14th, 2005, Pat Freestone has been on life support, waiting to die. But there are those among us who wish to take away Pat's right to determine his own destiny. The well-publicized reports in the media and elsewhere have not told the entire story. Only Pat's closest friends and family know the real truth. Don't let right-wing zealots and maniacal religious groups use Pat as a political pawn! Call, write, or e-mail your elected representatives today and demand that they let Pat Freestone die!

PAT WANTS TO DIE. WHY CAN'T WE ALL JUST BE COOL WITH THAT?



--paid for by Friends of Pat Freestone


February 15, 2005





February 4, 2005

I'm amazed I got out of bed long enough to continue on with

Pat Freestone's Endless Wintertime Pit of Despair

NINE DECEPTIVELY UPBEAT-SOUNDING THINGS

9. Courtney Love
8. Joy Luck Club
7. Friendly's
6. All-Tempa-Cheer
5. GLAAD
4. Hedonism II
3. Good Times
2. Heaven's Gate
1. Happy Meal

Dolefully,

signoff
Pat Freestone



February 2, 2005

The obsessively compulsive list making continues here in the inky black abyss commonly referred to as

Pat Freestone's Endless Wintertime Pit of Despair

NINE THINGS BESIDES WINTER THAT MAKE ME INEXPLICABLY SAD

9. A wallet-size class photo of a fourth grader stuck face-up at the bottom of a wastebasket
8. Old Chinese women carrying too many bags
7. An empty can of Chef Boy-Ar-Dee ravioli
6. 1960's documentary footage of white southern women in horn-rimmed glasses yelling profanity at black school children
5. "Be My Baby" by the Ronnettes
4. Discount plastic toys at a dollar store during the Christmas season
3. Imagining the cutting room floor of Girls Gone Wild
2. Airplane sinks
1. The easy-to-finish crossword puzzle books sold at most supermarket checkout stands

Despondently,

Pat Freestone


February 1, 2005

NINE HEROES OF CELEBRITY DEPRESSION

9. Emily Dickinson
8. Vincent Van Gough
7. Judy Garland
6. Darryl Strawberry
5. Jonathan Winters
4. Kitty Dukakis
3. Buzz Aldrin
2. Brian Wilson
1. Oksana Baiul

Humbly,

Pat Freestone


January 31, 2005

In a more-than-likely futile attempt to escape from

Pat Freestone's Endless Wintertime Pit of Despair,

I have turned once again to the occasionally-soothing pastime of list making. For such is my way.

NINE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS WHO EXHIBITED ONE OR MORE SIGNS OF CHRONIC DEPRESSION

9. Fat Albert (overeating, sluggishness)
8. Oscar the Grouch (irritability)
7. The Courtship of Eddie's Father's Mrs. Livingston (loss of interest in sex)
6. Jan Brady (hopelessness)
5. Droopy (trouble sleeping)
4. Thelma from Scooby Doo (anxious worrying)
3. Romeo and/or Juliet (suicide/attempts at suicide)
2. The Grimace (difficulty concentrating)
1. The Crying Indian Chief (uncontrollable crying)

Sadly,

Pat Freestone


January 28, 2005

Glad to see you could make it back for more of

Pat Freestone's Endless Wintertime Pit of Despair

What is it about winter that makes me so blue? Oh, it must be my blood vessels constricting because of the minus-20 wind chill.

Or, is it the gentle but constant strangulation I am subjected to by my scarves, muffs, and head wraps?

Perhaps it is the giant mound of soot-covered snow with the condoms and syringes sticking out of it that greets me each morning as I leave my apartment. I seem to recall it mocking me on more than one occasion.

Or maybe—and this is just a layman's theory—it's the fact that I can't access my daily cocktail of Carbamazepine, Gabapentin and Valproate prescriptions because the medicine cabinet has been frozen shut since the 12th.

Hard to say.

Yours,

Pat Freestone


January 25, 2005

Welcome back to

Pat Freestone's Endless Wintertime Pit of Despair

Depression. It comes on slowly, like a blister, or a canker sore, or the entertainment world's hatred for Robin Williams. You never see it coming. And then one morning, you roll over and look at the clock and it reads 4:19PM.

"Cheer up," people say. "Be glad you're not one of those poor tsunami victims."

"Try some wheat grass," people say. "It really helps when you're feeling sluggish."

"You're dribbling blood all over my new bath mat," people say. "That's my new $45 Crate & Barrel bath mat!"

So you put on your same old heavy coat and trudge out into the freezing night air, with the vague awareness that you are a tiny, insignificant life form standing on a big random rock, soaring through cold, empty space. You make it to the ATM and consider that your identity is but a number, a slot in the giant card reader of corporate America, the one that charges you for attempting to gain access to your own money. Then you buy a liter of Popov vodka and two packs of Camels, and dwell on the fact that in a few hours you will once again be sitting alone at home, drunkenly playing some 70's rock LP over and over while hot tears stream down your face and stipple the dust of your unswept living room floor.

That's when you remember: you are a 13 year old girl.

Things will get much, much worse.

Regrettably,

Pat Freestone


January Whatever, 2005

Well, well.

What? Oh, you wondered what happened to old Pat Freestone? "Where has he been for the last month?" you inquire with your curled lip. Here's a hint: it rhymes with Shawaii. Oh, wait...I'm mistaken. I was actually out being honored by the International Genius Foundation, who gave me a five million dollar grant to continue my work here at Today Inside Pat Freestone Updated Almost Daily. Then I found a sack of diamonds in the alley behind Big Screen Video, and all my hair grew back into a lush, sweeping mane of blonde allure. Tonight I have a date with Jennifer Anniston. Oh, and by the way, scientists have just discovered that smoking bong resin lowers bad cholesterol.

Oh-is my sarcasm too much for you? Perhaps you were a fan of the old Glass is Half Full Pat Freestone. Maybe you liked the way he pretended that he was satisfied with his home life and his financial security and his painstakingly hoarded stockpile of Hot Pockets. Well guess what? The devil has come home.

Welcome to Pat Freestone's Endless Wintertime Pit of Despair

Like you care,

Pat Freestone