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.

Tuesday, March 25, 2003

Ok I got a nice chunk of time to spit some game at ya. And I aim ta use it, hear? I aimz to use that chunk for all that we both hold dear. I aim to utilize this here time-chunk as dem scientists like ta call it to holla like a shot calla fer all I’m worth, which ain’t much, playa.

I almost lost my wallet & cell phone last night. Actually left them in a shopping cart in a grocery store parking lot, went home, hung out, realized that shit, rushed it back up there, and my wallet was still in the shopping cart. And my phone had been turned into lost & found at the store. I was waiting for snuffleupagus to come walking through down aisle 3 with a basket full of now & laters, it was that deep-space 9 style, I’m telling you. Apparently there are a few honest people left in the world, and one of them found my phone. Luckily they didn’t notice my wallet with my phat grip of 10 bones in it (it had fallen from the little top area to the bottom of the cart) or else temptation would have been too great even for the apparent Mary Poppins that hooked me up.

Lifestyles of the middle-class & obscure, all up on your computer screen, live 14/5 dawg. Live 14/5, my new motto. Take it for whut you will, but it is oh so real.

Um, ya know whut? I’m over it for now. Over it. over the blogging thang. Not for all day or the rest of my life, ya know, but for right now, I don’t think I have anything else of substance to say.

But that never stopped me before, and once again, the fingers are percolating as I explain my ineptitude and why not drop just another ounce of knowledge. Sister sledge won’t find out, right? And if she does, that beyatch can step to the back with Mr. Furley and count my Benjies, cuz times is hot and the kitchen is cold. Mark Farina’s lacing the house with beats and all I’m doing is keeping some semblance of rhythm. It’s the least I can do, na mean? Cuz I am the ringmaster, and this is the circus, and you folks paid your hard earned money for the popcorn and cotton candy and you wanna see elephants and clowns and acrobats right?

Ah yes, that was worth writing. Very very worth it. was it worth reading? Let me know. In the handy dandy comments section. Oh yeah, they’re down still yes? Yes. Maybe if I write complaining that they don’t work & that my template is still jacked, the blog fairies will fix it just to prove me wrong. Hey folks, I can handle being wrong if it brings about the kind of synergistic interlocking eace-pay that I’m predicting will come about if this shit were in proper working order. And that is on the ever-present, sometimes neglected, but always in the hizzle Montrose my fellow Glendalians and otras personas del mundo. Don’t like it? write a letter to Oscar the Grouch, cuz I don’t give a rizzle’s ayizzle.

A lot of people (ok nobody) have asked me what’s the dizzle with the pizzle of words like fizzle? It’s really sizzle (simple). See, you take the first letter (or group of letters) of a word and then add “izzle.” So for example if you wanted to say “damn you know whut? I’m gonna walk down the street and buy myself a hamburger,” well instead if you wanted to talk fizzled out style, you could say, “dizzle you knizzle whizzle? I’m gonna wizzle dizzle the strizzle and bizzle myself a hambizzle.” See there is some room for freestyling, for example there was a judgment call on “hamburger” I could have gone with “hizzle” but I though “hambizzle” was a little more specific and flew off the tongue better as well as more thoroughly getting across my point.

I hope that was of some assistance. I DO have office hours, 10 pm until 2 AM, and I’m in room #72 if the linguistics department building. Otherwise known as the linguizzle depizzle bizzle. Fa shizzle. Please remember, I am not licensed to spizzle or trizzle, but I am certified in a trizzaining prizzogram (see that's the advanced classes, available for a fee) that can fizurther izzad to your educiznational nizeeds. (you'll notice I greatly expanded on the aforementioned rules. Like any classic language, there are variations which would take volumes of blog entries to explain in complete detail.)