Friday, January 31, 2003


Joey was a rat. And they were on his tail.

They’d pushed and squeezed and he’d spit the info like a fukn horse on Tuesday. Nevermind the nonsensical metaphor of the situation, this was serious biznass.

As serious as jumpin on a 2x4 on a midsummer’s eve see-saw.

Ok, stop right there. Whatever little story you’re trying to tell just ain’t happening. It’s time to admit that you’re just wingin’ it and have no idea where this is going.

Um.. well, I’m pretty sure it was gonna end up with a gun battle in a donut shop, but how he got there, that’s kinda hazy.

Yeah. Hazy. You dumb dumb dumb dummie. Why don’t you just go back to writing about, uh, what the hell do you write about again?

Hardcore political commentary.

Oh yeah. That. So what’s going on in the political arena right now?

Fuck if I know. Something about we’re gonna start bombing iraq pretty soon, once we grow a set of nuts and stop giving a crap what the UN says.

Hey is this a private party or can anyone join in?

Ah shit look what the cat dragged in.

What?

You know.

Seriously, what?

The bold type? Jesus, get over yourself.

Hey, it’s not like I picked it. What else was left? Plain & italic were taken. I sure as hell don’t know how to get color out of this damn thing, do either of you?

No.

Uh. No.

So shut the fuck up.

So how bout those bears?

How bout em? They fukn lost! And they gotta play #1 Arizona tomorrow. We’re fucked.

Hey fuck that. Cal’s gonna go in there and take care of biznass.

Dude you already said biznass, in your brilliant little story. Get a fukn dictionary already.

It’s thesaurus, buttwipe.

Yeah, that.

Dude this REALLY sucks.

Yeah. Ok we’re outtie.

Peace.

Oh one more thing, though, I went to the bows-rice game last nite, and the bows rocked harder than the rock-ons. It was the lbc in tha place to be.

Great. Great sandwich. No really, we really, really, really care. You’re fascinating.

Fuck you.