Whut a load of donkey shit. Whut you may ask? Eh. All that shite. And a bag of, fuck, I don’t know, biscuits?

Well it is Friday, so that’s something to be, whatever, I don’t know, about. Bleh. And then the jurk storr, yah fuck that shit.

So I’m listening to pirate radio on the innernet. Purty cool.

Mebbe I’ll try to duck out & visit g-dog and hit him wit that American psycho shit which he indicated he wanted to read. Play some foosball?? Why not. Why. Ask why. Bud dry, yah, whatevs. Sense a pattern? Me neither.

You should clickie your way over to page 2 and bill simmons cuz he wrote a really funny thing about that movie varsity blues today. Sorry I don’t have the energy to find the link. Ok I prolly do but I won’t. espn dot com and follow your nose.

I have no ill will toward anyone, really, just, like a mood or three. And then the jurk storr. Ok I don’t particularly care for e-40 or that raiders ref from the snow game, but I guess I’ve forgiven them, something I said I’d never do. Well, never say never. Again. Shitty bond movie.

How much money do you need before you stop selling out to retarded shit? Infinity plus 83? Just curious.

Typety typety why do I typety. Really, really, I’m curious?? Why. Why do any of us blab this blabbage that we blab? Genuinely and serially? It’s funny I was thinking the other day how many blogs that I read way back in the day are still around. No pay no gratification except for reader input and sometimes not even that, is it just the writing, is it the feedback, is it the idea that you’re throwing shit in the negasphere?? Even I can’t answer that and I blah blah blah BLAH with the best and werst of them.

Hmmm.

There ain’t no comments so e-me at jurkstorr at gmail dot com if you give even half of a quarter of a fuck.

Which you don’t.

Peace.