Thursday, September 12, 2002
Shame on the night. For real. And shame on you. You've stolen the day snatched it away but I saw the sky and I'm never gonna die. Shame on the night. You don't care what you've done, so I think I better run. Shame on the sun.
I mean damn, ronnie james really really really really knew what he was talking about. It wasn't just a napoleon complex. Seriously.
Maybe he had one of those stargate thingies in his studio and he could like go to other worlds and see what the REAL dillio was. That's really the only goddamm way he could have come up with even half of the insightful shit he wrote. There is just no other frikken explanation.
Okey dokey smokey - gotta go tar the landing strip. General Joseph P. Johnson and the 18th brigade are due in later today with the an official dignitary from the panamerican consensus of rhesus monkeys. He's a fully frontally lobed primate with a PHD in mixology and a minor in banana theory. I'm looking quite forward to asking him his opinion on Gorilla Grodd's hypothesis that all nectarine trees should be chopped down to save the knock-kneed turtle.
But first things first. OK where did I put my tooth scraper and my ethanol scrubber? And don't EVEN tell me that I misplaced my industrial size vat of ketyl-19 cuz that shit ain't cheap.
Wish me luck in my big meeting. If anyone has any questions they'd like me to ask Coco the rhesus monkey dignitary, let me know now, cuz there may not be another opportunity like this for a long long time, it's a real bitch getting those fellers out of those tall south american trees and don't get me started on their prehensile tails. Really, don't EVEN get me started.