So I poured another strong one
then chopped a line from here to texas…

-kid rock

jesus h. Christ, am I really quoting kid rock? Ok, it’s official, Whuts the point? Riddle me that bats. Kicked outta my own cantina. It’s like, shit, I am han solo, no, greedo, no, the barkeep, not the one that gets shot, the one that regulates, but I can’t regulate, and I got this feeling, like the dogs are closing in, like nobody cares and everyone’s concerned, like, it’s just a big jurk sesh with carlton laughing his fat ass off up in that great big tall building and whut’s next, my secret ID unleashed on the contingent and all their enemies? Happened to Matt, who’s to protect me, I don’t even have fukn radar sense, I don’t even have a mash unit set up to patch up my wounds, self inflicted or not, I mean, whut’s the answer, I’m solving the unsolvables up in this bitch, and fuck it if nobody gives a rats asshole burger, and fuck a zan jayna gleek Thelma all that aisha ass backsterpiece kine shit, cuz I don’t think I gots the time nor inclination nor wanting to tempt myself therein to put up shit and like checkitty check and fukn wonder and check and FUCK THAT, it’s like, peruse, don’t, I don’t care, it’s beautiful, I gots no site meter I gots no comment I gots nothing, I mean, your lucky you see my e-mail not that anybody gives a fark but shit they’re monitoring that shit too prolly. Oh, now, well, def, yep, wait, no, well, I wouldn’t put it past the fuckers, they’re still kinda roping the dope with the pope but we’ll see, shit’s gotta go down one way or another. Might as well be with nobody looking as I dangle a piece of fresh meat from the lanai railing.

Can you believe this shizzle? Stabbed in my own back by a supposed brother from a supposed other mother, I mean, shizzle, I’m tryin to start up some due diligence over here in left field and there goes carlton throwin around cash that was never there before to a guy I just showed dapp to ovah heah yesserday, it’s ridiculous it’s preposterous it’s cantankerous, and meanwhile I still can’t throw up zans nor jaynas off this 'puter or that one and I could find the other one and throw up signs but I know he’s got peeps perpin, prolly old supposed “friends” of mine patrolling and hittin haloscan and cancellin that shit anyway, if I know old fiskie, shit, fisk, and I just noticed that, to fisk a fisk, a tale of two nickel & dimers with plenny quarters. Ehh, fuckkitt.

and don't even get me started on how the don pulled that diggin in the crates shit.

Speaking of ghetto, holy shit, ah forget it.

Serially though, think dj mugs tattoos and an insane voracious appetite for crack meets an inexplicable bookstore attendant and his lovely concierge, except it’s a dogwalker convention, then you might get the drift. Prolly not.

So, uh, jurk storr. No no no. um. Wait, fuck, I gotta make a phone call, before the house falls on that witch. Werd. Hold up. Yah you. Yup. Chillinski.

Maybe I’m a Brandon ass bastard sword, but I find this pretty interesting. Just not interesting enough to actually go buy my own bandwidth or closet space or whatever you call internet real estate so I can host the mofo, ie if I made my own whatever radio show. But as far as like patrolling through other people’s radio blog or whatever the fuck it is and listening to their music, well, it’s like Christmas at the orphanage, except no drunk fake santa claus.

Oh yah bad santa is pretty funny speaking of that subject.

Ok I’m done being retarded, at least for the next 2 minutes.

In fact, I found a really nice raving (is that word legal anymore?) dj mix by, uh, dj jeed, which almost makes me feel like I’m on hardcore drugs. Not that I would know. I’m just saying, I saw a lifetime slash hbo special on the subject and it seemed like that, you know, all those crazy dancing hobos. Yup.

there’s so much good stuff to read on the internet. Why are you here?

Oh yeah, you’re not.

jose was a good baseball playa, he had his faults and apparently embraced them, gotta respect that, didn’t try to clean shit up for the media and kiss pounds of ass, did his thang and threw up an eff when the time called for it.

But fuck, mofo could hit the fuck out that ball.

He should be in hall of fame. It’ll be a close vote but I bet he’ll make it there eventually.

PS: I know jack shit about baseball.

Go dodgers. I smell a title this year. Or that could be the burning effigy of my twin brother ralphie.

Either way, shit is chronic!


muscle68

Yodel. The master thesis, which luckily no kickdowns go to the commission, is up at a little over 21 thousand werds. Yup, that’s a lot of crap.

I was at the ghettoest movie yesterday. A fight almost broke out in the back of troy. No big surprise, boring ass too long movie. Way too much heaving brad pitt pectorals. And anorexic skinny bitch necks. And whiney legolas. Eh.

So I can’t even comment at my casa, the muzzle firmly in place like a, eh, something or other. Ok yah it’s all fantasyland shit, but humor a brother, I painted myself into a corner and rules iz rules. Yup, purty stupid. Why axe why. Wax a dolphin.