Wednesday, February 26, 2003


ok, well, welcome to horseshit acres. dagnabbit it was a busy morning, but it looks like it's tapering off. fires are getting put out, old women who were up to this point bleeding profusely from the jugulars have received medical attention, and your neighbors dog has been put down like the little bitch that it is.

The newer happier generation has been displaced by the jaded and skeptical hopheads currently running MTV and YM magazine. Totally reliant on over-the-counter medications of various strengths and types, they trudge on through their daily grind and pump out whatever mongrel diatribe seems fitting for that exact moment of public consumption.

In short they accept their roles as media whores and relish it like catsup on a hot dog. Without living high on the bastille or anything like that, i feel i can safely say that i speak from some level of authority on this matter. no explanation will be given for this statement and any requests for such shall be met by a hard fist to the nose or a pick-axe to the spine.

Do you know how many times I say "aloha" every day? A lot more than you would fukn think. After every message you leave on a professional level, you go "so gimme call at 555-5555. Aloha." Just like that. After a while those alohas add up. Now don't get me wrong, (note to self: STOP saying "don't get me wrong" so fukn much, just say it you fuck) I like aloha just as much as the next guy, but after a while, even aloha can grate on your soul like a fukn fork tine scratching up against a chalkboard.

Now that's just not true. I'm down with aloha like down town julie brown is down with leeches sucking all over her old craggly arsehole. and that, my friends, is down like the deepest levels of hades combined with Fab-Five Freddy's wardrobe organizer.

Long Beach bitch!