Monday, September 16, 2002

i am right handed, but i am attempting to eat spicy bbq chicken from willows aikahi lefthanded, with chopsticks, mind you. i must teach myself an art never attempted, a subject never broached. i grow tired on the journey, so i'm taking a break and just blabbin at you good folks for a little bit.

i'm eating left handed cuz i jacked my arm sleeping this weekend. and last night i jacked my neck, which hurt the morning but seems to have cleared up. but if i try to bring my right hand up to my mouth there's a jolting pain around my elbow. it's bearable but my theory is it'll heal faster if i exert it as little as possible. i worked out last night which may have been a mistake but i feel buffer today so it's all good.

(crippled eating session)

so how bout those muthafuckin bears world?? no respect you fuks but now the bear is growling, nursing its young to health for a hunt never foreseen. the scent of the enemy is on the wind, a syphon of whining soliloquies lost in the forest of knowledge.

and los raiders, the ship riding high into the night, awaiting the duel with the horsey helmet poondoggers that comes sometime on monday night football. the arsenal will be unleashed diligently and judicious annihilation will be executed with extreme prejudice.

and you know that i'm listening to def leppard. the cheese is fermenting on the palace walls, with nary a knight in sight to rectify wrongs left on the undead planes of asgard. so blah da de blah de blah de blah from blahgstein, usa island style.

damn all i know is that the airforce what-ever you call yourselves, midshipmen or falcon lightning bolt gang whatevers, cuz your ass is grass against the golden ones this saturday, back at home in strawberry canyon, just a little stomp and romp with a disco pomp, coalescing into dominance on stage b.

and digital berkeley joe will be in attendance, ceremonial cannon blaster after every score in the carnage of bear ball under my new mentor, mr. jeff tedford former quarterback coach for oregon, who i belive tutored a younger brett favre and was like, "brett: hit em hard and hit em long but don't forget to right every wrong. uh, on the football field, i mean. i'm not trying to say you have to be some kind of superhero or anything. i mean but if you did that's cool too."