Thursday, July 18, 2002


I feel like Lyle Alzado in a steroid rage right now because I'm rewriting this whole fukkin entry from memory after fukking up and losing it by going out of the window I was in. Basically I just tore apart my office, smashed my coworkers head through a windshield, and squirted goat's blood all over the front door, in a bizarre voodoo ritual. I feel much better now, and I think I'm ready to spew forth from my brain again. But, thinking of how perfect an entry I just wrote... Wait, I'll be right back.

OK that wasn't pretty. Due to local animal protection laws and a number of other city and state statutes involving defecation on public landmarks, I won't go into detail on what transpired, but I feel better, I am now ready to blog again.

Am I the only one who doesn't trust this Taco Bell / Pizza Hut conglomeration thing they got going on? If you haven't noticed, at least here in Hawaii, slowly but surely every Taco Bell has a Pizza Hut in it, too. My wife thinks I'm crazy, but this disturbs me on so many levels, and I don't really know why. I mean, I guess you can make tacos and pizza in the same kitchen, but, is it really that simple? It almost like, offends me, that the food I'm buying is so basic that they can cook it all in an area the size of some people's shoe closets. I liked to think that making Pizza hut pizza required more than a little corner of a Taco Bell. Am I weird for thinking about this? On a similar note, Dunkin Donuts and 31 Flavors are joining forces too, now you can get an ice cream cone and a dozen donuts at one quick stop. This is frikken dangerous. I mean what's the next step, fat implants straight into your ass while they hook your face up to the sugar feeding trough? Were getting herded like cattle into a world designed by a sick crossbreed of marketers and economists, whipped and prodded into dens of iniquity, blinded by the flashy lights and value meals.

or something like that.

I know I married a good caring woman, because my wife woke up concerned about the nature people. She had a dream that she was at a swap meet, and at one booth there was a bunch of neanderthals, full on cave people, selling mud sculptures. She asked somebody, what's the deal with them? "Oh, they're the nature people," the person told her. They were jumping around like monkeys, scratching their armpits, going ooga ooga, and having a good ol time, but my girl was concerned about them and asked if they needed something to eat, as they looked pretty skinny. Some burgers maybe? The nature people didn't want burgers. Chicken? "yay, chicken, chicken!" This caused them to jump around all over the place, pumping their spears in the air, and spitting out the ticks they'd half chewed off of their buddies' backs, celebrating the chicken they were going to eat. So my wife heads over to the chicken stand, but gets distracted by some jewelry booth or something like that. And then she wakes up. And she tells me, she feels bad because those poor cavemen were so hungry and I never got them their chicken, they were so excited about it.

Is that a nurturing personality or what? Me I would have been like, yeah let me get you that chicken, Chaka. shabba! and walked on my way to buy a t-shirt or something.

I'm really diggin this Cam'ron album I picked up about a month ago. It took me while to get into it, but it's getting heavy rotation now in the Philips mini system. In fact, I'm announcing it as the Alfie's music club pick of the week. I haven't heard his new one yet, I'm the type to usually wait till I see stuff in the used rack at the little underground record shops. Except for the following: new Snoop, Cypress, or Eminem albums. And sometimes the Beastie Boys, if I've got extra cash. And maybe I'll make an exception for the new Weezer album. There's always exceptions here and there, but, oh whatever, you get my drift. And if you don't, tell me in the shout out section.

Anyway, that's about it for now. I got shit to do.

Peace out

the ultrablogger