Friday, March 14, 2003
bellini-induced. I’m pretty sure it’s not, but I have been known to be wrong here and there and over in the corner many a time or two.
Well since I’m #1 for Kool Keith now, I figured I should kick the keith knowledge. As Brandon might have told you, I picked up the Dr. Dooom album recently, which is absolutely balls-out insane and a daily listen for me as of, um, about five astro-medallions ago. Anyway, the only other guest rapper on the album is this dude named Jacky Jasper. I was kind of thinking he sounded like Canibus a little, so I looked on the internet, thinking keith in his wackiness assigned a fake name to canibus. So the first site I found said that Jacky Jasper was just another Kool Keith identity. But I was thinking “oh hell no” cuz keith has skills, but that was like a different voice. Further hunting seemed to bear my theory some truth fruit, and it seems that Jasper (here called H-Bomb) as well as some other dude named Marc-Live are in Keith’s recent crew (his only one since the ultramagnetics) known as KHM.
Yes very interesting. Maybe I won’t post that.
Or maybe I will, it’s really my forum ain’t it? Yes indeedy-oh.
Tony posted an interesting interview with Alecia today which is definitely worth a read. As if you didn’t already know that. Jeezo peezo that brain freeze aforementioned, not allowing for coherent thought processeeeez.
Ah who gives a fark. It’s Friday, right? So no one’s reading this anyway. Hmmm that takes a lot of pressure off. All that insane pressure I was putting on myself, ya know, I mean what if the pope were reading this? He’d be like, “dominus omus, and a fee fi fo fum, and jesus so forsook the Israelites, and what the fuck? This guys talking about goatless mothers!! Somebody get me my popemobile I’m gonna go kick some ass. What? He’s in Hawaii? Well bitch get my pope-jet mofo, I’m finna put a beat down down. Yeah beat down down. You gotta problem with that? I’m the muthafuckin POPE bitch!!”
That would be pretty cool too, cuz I’ve always been curious to meet the pope, even if it was under the not so great circumstances of him slapping the taste out of my mouth. I mean, na mean? Gotta play the cards your dealt. And I’m showing 2’s, 3’s, 4’s, and 6’s, but no fives, na mean? That ain’t right, that just ain’t right. But do you hear me complaining? Ok yeah a little, but do you see me giving up, telling the roman guard, nah nah put me outta my misery. Hell no! hellz nizoe. Hellz bellz nizzle izzoe.
And neither should you.
Have a nice weekend.
And that don’t mean I ain’t writin’ any more crap today. And it don’t mean I AM writing anymore crap today. You don’t make my muthafuckin schedule beyatch, so step to the back with the Doberman gang. On the rizeal.
Thursday, March 13, 2003
Yeah it’s not quitting time & I’m half sauced. No actually just cracked one beer. Fuck em, they’re all cruising it’s my turn to kick back like the anti-newjack.
The real shit is at a dog named clipper today. Well, it will be at a dog named clipper. I’m gonna go write it. Pretty soon. There’s just old clipper shit over there right now. In a couple hours or minutes there will be bang slamming new shite over there.
Gotta represent. And comment! Please! In fact you don’t even have to read it, just click over and comment. Tell me you feel the insane amounts of prevalent beat down being inflicted on my consciousness by these goatless hole-diggers exacting this revenge on me or whatever the hell they are doing. I need comments after this injustice of blogger ignoring my ass and probably forcing me to buy blogger pro in the next soon amount of time.
Uh whatever dude.
Oh fuckn shit ok I’ll just blog over here for right now. It’s too much of a pain. I can’t handle the stresses on my psyche going on over this… inextacticated justinian corn flake rat hole version of the truth that they are trying to perpetrate.
What a load of donkey kong.
But seriously, though. A dog named clipper. It’s like a side issue but an off duty walking partner. For the wee hours when the sun is like the color of chipotle.
So yes indeed. Fascinating ass crap. More so than your previous ode on a Grecian noodle cake. That was the bombiggliosso. Oh so. So oh injestitidinal.
Injestitidinal. Yes indeed. It you didn’t think it was a word well I’m here to infregulate you. That means enlighten. In zoombabwinian. Which is…
Wednesday, March 12, 2003
Ok well it’s time to blog. So blog, you pile.
What do you want me to blog about?
Whatever, just write something.
You heard me, Boston Whaler.
What the frick is that?
My Grandpa’s old boat, up at the mountain, it’s a Boston Whaler.
What the hell does that have to do with anything?
It was cool. He’d let me drive it, even though I was just a young punk. He let me get behind the wheel and pilot that thing all over Mammoth Lake. 10 years old driving a boat. I thought I was pretty damn cool I must say. I was driving boats before I was riding a motorcycle. I was riding a motorcycle before I was driving a car. All because of my kickass Grandpa.
That’s pretty cool I guess.
Yeah. Sucks that he died.
But he had a pretty full life. He definitely enjoyed himself.
That’s true. He knew how to enjoy himself, that’s for sure.
And he was funny as hell.
Yeah he was.
And he left everyone with lots of cool memories.
I miss him.
Me too. It's been a while since he passed, but he's in my thoughts pretty regularly.
Hey thanks for being here for me. I really appreciate it.
No problem, I'll always be here for ya, you can count on me.
who the heck are you anyway?
No idea. I thought you knew.
um, no, I just hear voices, I haven't figured out how to label them yet.
I guess I'm a friend. I think we'd know if we were enemies.
all right well i gotta go do my paper route.
Tuesday, March 11, 2003
But they mean well, right? Wrong. Fuck them.
Feeling uninspired. Wishing I was sitting in front of a TV tanking forties with anti. That would be pretty damn long beach right about now.
But nooooo, I’m at work, hustling for THE MAN. Yes that man that oppresses all of you and me and keeps my damn nose on that grindstone. Ain’t that right bitch? Yeshshir, right away sir.
Ah shut your damn pie-hole keith you whining bastard of a stepson’s goat. You said you were gonna chill out on the beyatching and there you go again. It’s actually a morning filled with possibilities. The phone ringing and people bugging you is a good thing, remember? If it don’t make dollaz it don’t make sense, remember that you ungrateful deusch scrubber.
Write it down on a piece of carbon paper and stamp it on your damn forehead and carry around a little pocket mirror with a thumbtack in the side, so when you walk, it’ll poke you and you’ll be like “whutthefuck?” and you’ll pull out that mirror, look at yourself, and read “if it don’t make dollaz it don’t make sense” and before you know it you’ll be playing croquet with Donald Trump and puffin’ Cubans. All from a little creativity and a piece of carbon paper which people thought were worthless now in the computer age. Dumbasses. Nothing is useless, even an old bobble head doll of a long-washed-up star. Take that shit, melt it down, make a toothbrush out of that piece of donkey ass, and brush yo teeth cuz yo breath be stankin’ up the hizzle like a dizzle.
Oy vey this is turning into a stupidity fest that needs to be corralled by Annie and Charles Oakley. Now that would be a match I’d like to see. And so would you even though you have no idea. See, Annie Oakley is some old school cowgirl and Charles Oakley is some old power forward playing with Michael Jordan currently, and if they came together and wrote a song called “heal my bitch” then, and I really believe this, all the current geo-political problems facing the world would be solved in an instant. Too bad Annie Oakley is dead. Are there any prominent cowgirl broads comparable with Annie Oakley status right now? I know the reverse cowgirl is pretty bigtime, but is that the same idea? I’m thinking no.
Well this has been another exercise in futility. Every day I write this thinking that Puff Daddy is gonna read it and sign me to a record deal. So far nada. Cmon Puff, I’m the next Madd Rapper, I’ve got the gold teeth already, I just need the dillio, you know it’s time for the next white rapper, eminem is over with, it’s all about Fool Feith, yeah that’s the ticket, everybody else bites off a keith, why not me too.
“Yo this is fool feith, tearing up the area in your squarea, keeping it real like mr. Popeil. Recognize skillz on the mike and tear up my poonhole like a dyke! Long beach!”
gyeah now THAT is tight. You KNOWz it, you knowZ it, you KnOwZ it foolios. Fool Feith representing strong island and dogshit acres. Straight out of the dungeon, rackin up credits like an old decrepit horse named flojo.
Down with Carlos Escobar and the Gambino family. Keeping up appearances and dockin many clearances. SHIT puffy this is the bombaylucha, c’mon main, I’m doing it for the kids, the goddam kids, puff. DAMN! Recognize and holla, or else you’re not down with it. And if you ain’t down, then I gotta pass the gat to homey the clown. (thanks keith)
I’m kind a starting to think I should erase like the last 8 paragraphs and just have this be like a statement on the inherent beauty of space and silence. I’m gonna really think about that while I go teach myself the Turkish waltz and look for pictures on google.
Monday, March 10, 2003
Isn’t that just wacky? I saw a clerks cartoon last night that seemed pretty cool. Did anyone else see that? But like a dumbass, I missed the old-skool 60’s batman reunion show or whatever they were doing. Supposedly it was gonna be burt ward and adam west in their tights again, doing I don’t know what, fighting against the drug companies for cheaper viagra? I wonder if Julie newmar was representing, or is she dead? I don’t know, I think she is. Why are gay people so into Julie newmar? I only say this because of that cross-dressing movie with Wesley snipes and some other dude, was it Patrick swayze? That movie sucked. Did I see it? I don’t remember, but I’m pretty sure it sucked anyways.
I feel like watching the 1990 movie Punisher with Dolph Lundgren, and that movie is pretty damn horrible. This should make you understand that just cuz a movie sucks, does not mean it ain’t good. A really shitty movie can be quite excellent when you think about it. Especially if an eastern European martial arts expert is involved. Lionheart comes to mind as well.
So as I was saying, I did a lot of crap today, and also read way too much bloggage. Seems like the hip thing to do is to go on a break right now. Well fuck that, I ain’t going anywhere. I’m over my little crisis about the fact that I suck. Now I know that I rule. As in rulons. As in tell other MC’s to watch they back. I ain’t going Nowhere. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. You might as well call me OG ratbone. Yes it’s like that.
It’s amazing how much quality crap you can pump out when you’re comfortable with it. And I am OH so comfortable. In fact this chair is sanctioned by the United States Table Tennis association. My paddle is illegal as hell though, but don’t tell the ref. I need this match if I’m gonna stay in contention for masta ace of the year. Feel me? You better.
Oh and yeah my comments still aren’t working. Can’t get my template to load, I don’t know whut the dillio is. I really don’t. I can’t change the links you see on your left, I can’t even make a waffle up in this bizzle without blogger telling me no. it’s effed up main. In the meantime, do that thang & e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org or if you really feel like commenting, go over to a dog named clipper, comments work over there. It’s really ironic when you think about it , really really really ironic. Almost as ironic as quadruplets all in the same car singing a stupid song. All that commenting ability and nothing posted since laste week. Clipper is sad, no one likes him any more, not even me. I am a bad master. Maybe I’ll post something over there tomorrow. Maybe I’ll start a tree hugging club that loves war and violence. That sounds fun. A club that hates people but loves trees. A club that wants nuclear annihilation as long as there’s a maple tree in front of Denny’s, so I can eat my mutated rat’s asshole burger while looking at a pretty tire swing outside in the cool pinkish hued air.
That sounds fun.
I was reading popie today and some anonymous joe is getting into an uproar over the use of the word “gay” to mean “stupid” like when you say “jeezo peezo that shirt is so GAY!” is there anything wrong with using “gay” in that context? I kind of went into a diatribe about it in her comments section. Is there any gay person reading this that could give me some kind of context on what’s offensive & what’s not? I mean the LAST thing I want to be is offensive. I would never want to offend any of you worthless fuckbags.
Well the clippers actually won a fuckin game this weekend. I celebrated by poppin’ my collar and shooting champagne all over the walls of the alf-mansion. Mrs. P was not pleased, but hey, the clips only win every once in a while so it shouldn’t be continuing issue.
The lakers are going to win the nba championship again this year. Arizona is going to win the NCAA. Both of these statements are dissatisfactory to me, well moreso the Arizona thing, because Cal really has an amazing team this year and they’ve given me lots of joy and thanksgiving, but the wildcats are just too strong. In fact we might even see another all wildcats final with Arizona versus Kentucky, and zona will take it again. They’re just too tough. Oh and the la kings will win the Stanley cup, just for hose monster. And yes I busted into the crack supply again and these are some damn good rocks. Tally-ho!
Is saying tally-ho offensive? Are you like tallying up your hoes when you say that or are you just riding a horse on the foxhunt? Is a foxhunt offensive? I get so confused and I don’t want to alienate any readers, I want everyone to be a rainbow coalition up in this hizzle. I want Jesse Jackson to bump into this page and deem it representative of all the good things that he represents, like bangin’ bitches on the side while decrying the moral ineptitude of our poor nation.
Motorcycle class was pretty fun this weekend. Rodd Johnson, our teacher from last week, is on probation for rubbing his rod where it shouldn’t be, or some kine sketchy thing like that. Apparently Rodd likes the ladies and it gets him in trouble, or so a little bird told me. This little bird is in no relation to the little bird that told me that if I buy Corn Flakes I’m supporting terrorism.
Randy Rhoads, where are you dude? I can’t make this shit up, I need you to come tell me what the dillio is. I need you to sit on my roof again with your ghostly ass and bust out arcane chords at 3 am. I never got to ask you what you think of the new Osbourne’s season. I never got to tell you that you’re the most badass musician ever. What the hell, are they having like a 6-month long coke-a-thon up there or something? Throw a dog a bone man, let me know it’s all G up in H. the readers gotta know, I’ve been getting roughly 86 e-mails a day asking why no more stories of Randy Rhoads’ ghost, and I try to tell them, these ain’t stories, people, these are the true-life experiences of a goatless bastard named keith. I’m just not that creative people, you gotta understand, shit happens, I record it on my utility belt 3 way radio, I plug it into the alf-computer, and I press enter. That’s all this shit is. I’m just an antenna, I’m just a telephone cord, I’m just a two-by-four holding up the bathroom wall.
And that is on…. no. not today. Today it is not on any city or place. Today it is on like a light switch & I’ll leave it at that. I think Randy would’ve wanted it that way.