Friday, March 28, 2003

Hello my little pretties. Did you miss me the last couple days? Well you shouldn’t have. See I was hanging out over at a dog named clipper. I know I know I’m such a pain in the ass, why do I have to bounce back and forth like some pong-ed out frizzled superball, when I have a perfectly nice home right here. Well you see, I created a doghouse for a certain one-eared dog and it just wouldn’t be prudent to leave it stagnating for much more than a week, which I had been guilty of doing already.

I know Jim Treacher said never apologize for not blogging, but see I’m not apologizing for not blogging, I’m apologizing for blogging all over the place when I have not quite enough solid material to fill up a thimble let alone two websites.

Bah. (I LOVE that word, thank you bloggerville, you have filled my heart with gladness). I mean, I know you collective folks didn’t invent the word “bah” but your continued varied uses of it including the classic figure of impatience is simply “mahvelous.”

The weather here has been soooo shitty. Now Tony said that when you talk about the weather it’s usually code for something else. Let me check my databanks as to what this reference could be code for. Let’s seeeee heeerrrre. Um, I’m at a loss. Just that the weather’s shitty and I’m secretly spider-man. Oooopss. Oh I let that slip now didn’t I? I knew there was something more at work in my subconscious than just snippets about the fucked up rainy ass weather. Yes indeedy-oh.

Greg over at the ward posted a pretty damn funny fake cnn dot com war report that he pulled from some other random ass place yesterday which you should check out. And if you’re really sensitive to like racial kine stuff and easily offended by rap lyrics, you may want to not go there. Or here. Or to your grandma’s house, cuz she’s hanging wit tha homeys today & keeping it rizeal.

I mentioned it over at clipperland, but I’ll mention it here too. I’ve been super-like absorbed with the Trueboy archives the last couple days, much to the suffering of my other blog-reading. (oh and fair warning, you can't just click on most of their archives, ya gotta have some game and type in the url's) So maybe I’ll play catch-up today in the rest of the blogosphere. Or maybe I’ll just play with catsup. Or mustard. I haven’t decided.

Anyway, I’ve practically read every word on that frikken site, and I still can’t figure out for sure if the 3 people on trueboy are 3 real separate people, or one total fukn literary madman genius with multiple personality disorder. Oh great, now if it’s one person, I’m gonna be on his “list” of people that he’s gonna kill. I have to do like adam sandler and call him (oh it could & probably is a her, or, wait, I’m not supposed to assign gender like that, it’s up to them) and apologize. Dear trueboy person/people, love your work, don’t change a thing, and I would never try to assign you a gender. Jesus CHRIST I sound like some fukn moron off of 87th avenue that thinks he’s “down with it” and is going to be “up with people.” Fuck even I lost track of what the fuck I’m talking about now. I’ll keep it simple. Read trueboy. TRUE, Sterling Fassbinder, and the drunk fag snake Fitzcarraldo are all more than worthy of your time. (and thanks for bringing back Fitz, shit just was not the same without him). That shit is poetry and that’s on long beach. Now hopefully I didn’t start a turf war. Three against one, ain’t good odds. I gotta call up keith and joe.

Yo joe.

Werd up.

I think I offended the true crew.

I think they got tuffer skin than that dawg.

Ya think?


Where’s keith?

I’m right here beyatch. Up in your medulla oblongata.

Whut the hell you doing in there main? You know that’s only for emergencies.

Yo the cerebrum wuz getting wack homey. Ain’t NO bitches up in there.

That’s cuz all the honeys are up in our cerebellum playa, ain’t no hoes in the medulla, you’ll just be fukn up our spine & shit.

Yo Alfred you a bitch.

Hey guys, didn’t we used to have different tones & mannerisms, and shit? Lately it seems like each one of us is that same bad extra character from like “colors” or “new jack city,” you know, the assistant to the main bad guy, that is always like “yo let’s smoke these foohs.”

Yeah, I kinda noticed that too. Does that mean we’re breaking down & will soon become… the uni-mind?

Naw, naw, naw, I ain’t feeling that at all, time to go back to the drawing board, whoever’s typing this shit, and learn about characterization and shit like that, cuz shit is WEAK.

Fuk yeah, that’s whut I’m saying, Glendale ain’t happy, and neither is Brooklyn. Snap.