Tuesday, July 08, 2003

all righty then. First off thanks to all the well wishers for the euro vaycay good times, and to the hatas, the dick eat up department is kinda backed up right now but leave a message and I’m sure they’ll get back to you post haste.

Actually I don’t really got any hatas. Well sometimes I do but luckily they just ride into this zone when there’s some kind of avalanche and usually the breeze blows em right back out the way they came in. I’m not nearly interesting enough to have like a permanent heckler, although I’m looking, send references to the aforementioned dick eating up department, put on there “heckler” and it’ll go right through to the vice president in charge of public relations aka CrabSnobble McFackelstein Jr., (no relation), and we should be able to get you set up on our payroll system within 853 hours. Your standard fee for fuking with my shit will be one 83rd of a cent per 20 lines of diatribe, so get crackin, ace, oh and this agreement is not covered by the eff triple c. (see below for explanation of acronym).

Anyway, yes, well, I have shit to do so we might have to run with the system that worked so well yesterday.

Ok I’m calling someone right now. Well. As expected he can’t really help me on item A, but I had to rap with him about item B anyway. Well I guess I didn’t HAVE to per se, but well I did, so fuck you.

Big Al just came in. whoah he’s fired up. I bitch about him a lot, but shit, he’s good for a laugh every now and then. Fuck it, I’m gonna tank a shot for big Al. fuk I should you know. I’ve got all this booze in this back corner of my office from when I had to clear it all out of our house when this alcoholic rehabbing lady was gonna crash over for a day or two and we wanted her to not be tempted, and I’m basically a beer drinker, I mean, bottles of whiskey in the corner don’t call to me, but hmmm, what with all this stress, maybe I should have a little nip. Nah, I know I won’t. it doesn’t sound good. But I might have a fukn beer when I stop at home at lunch to transport Wacko over to G-dog’s casa. Oh yes I WILL have a beer, long beach has dictated that to be a true fact indeed.

Dude, wacko better be alive when I get back. I will be seriously bummed if he’s not. That fish has so much personality, it’s unbelievable. He was jumping and swimming & frolicking to beat the band this AM. Yup. Ok stop talkie more workie.

Ok back from lunch. Wacko and the ghetto fish have been safely transported to the home of g-dog. Just got breaking news that payton is gonna suit up for the lakers next season. I am on top of this shit dammit.

Ok, now it’s later. Like after 5 style. Disco ball drops from the ceiling, gogo dancers emerge from their cages, and I gotta pull the plug on the party and regulate.

“There’s 3 things that keep me from being a nazi, I’m black, I’m a fag, and my dad’s Liberace.” – Bizarre of D12

nice line.

Fuk I’m still here. Doing stuff. And throwing one last line out into the ocean, which called and is running out of shrimp, before I go fly over them, both of them, pacific, atlantic, shit bring it on.

I don’t think I’m flying over the Indian ocean, but you never know, fuk it, I’m flexible.

I really gotta fukn do some shit & get the fuk out of here. Plane leaves in what, 6 hours? Chuuch.

Take care everybody and, um, be cool. Werd? Right on. Talk at ya later.