Friday, April 11, 2003
It would be hard if not impossible to make it more interesting than one of my favorite writers, Bill Simmons, meeting one of the most fascinating characters of the last 20 years, Mike Tyson. For that escapade into literary wonder, you are invited to move your mouse here and click.
Bill gets to hang out with Tyson while he kicks it in his favorite place to be - a Harlem rooftop with his prized pigeons. classic stuff. brought to your door, dear reader, piping hot and ready for consumption.
And yes, you’re welcome.
So what am I up to? Straight living, dawg. Straight living.
You know whut? I think that’s it for now.
Thursday, April 10, 2003
Fukn fox news are all “well walter cronkite said it was bad, so um, fuk him, he’s not a real American,” ok they didn’t exactly say that but gimme a break “fair and balanced” with the American flag waving proudly in the little digital effect on the top of the screen.
GodDAMN this shitBAG fuCKER from some company trying to pimp their ways to us KEEPS calling. Um if I’m not answering nobody’s home beYATCH, ok?? Fukn shite. That’s twice in a row, if he calls again, FUCK I’ll pick up and shit down his throat a verbal effigy.
So yeah, but it ain’t like cnn is much better. Well yeah they are, fox is pretty fukn amateur I think, so busy primping for the camera and bitching about the rest of the media. Why the need to brag now, let’s move forward and keep the discussion going. What would you rather, that there was no one to argue with about it? you’d shrivel up into a dried up old goat carcass and your ashes drifting across the serengetti, or maybe the Mojave, death valley, definitely. Not the Iraqi desert where the troops have been advancing, kicking ass, and taking names, and the british, you know whut? The british got our backs, they were like “whut” when it came time to call it showtime.
Cnn is pretty good, but they do go a little left, but fuk it’s better than “fair and balanced” and ya know that shit. Dude I don’t know whut the fuck I’m talking about.
As for sadaam going down, FUCK YEAH – fuck him. The people are dancing in the streets, think about it, this fuckbag has 80 fukn ornate castles, private helicopters, a luxury yacht, anything and everything he could ever hope to use, and he just copped it by fukin his own people in the ass every day all day every channel. Fuck him, and his statues everywhere. Now I know everyone’s saying “but what about the weapons of mass destruction, keith, haven’t seen any of those yet,” and I know that was the whole justification at least by un bullshit rules, but ya know whut, fuck the un, cuz we didn’t do it by their rules when we went in, why should it count now? Sadaam was a fukn shitbag fucker that wanted everything and sat on his people for 30 years. That’s a long ass time.
I just hope we do what’s right, whatever that is, in the continuing government of this area. I mean we can’t just ditch and leave, they’ll have a new whateverhisnameis next week, ok maybe next year, ok after a huge war, cuz there would be fukn CHAOS dawg. Fukn chaos. So we gotta help em set up something, and a little “oh what’s this?” you don’t mind if we hook up the hoses up to your oil tanks too, yeah this is all for the Iraqi people, but you know, the tythe dog. We BETTER take the tythe. Fuck that, we get some oil up in this bitch. I gotta drive my expedition 35 miles back and forth to work and the gym every day, and you know I needs to hit up the treadmill in my nikes made by 9 year old children making 5 cents an hour in Zimbabwe or chile, or even outer Mongolia.
I was at the gym last night, bustin’ my ass on the treadmill and when I finished, I was dripping mad sweat, yo, and then I went & stretched, and as I was walking back to the front of the gym, I passed the tv’s that we watch while we run/climb/bikeride or otherwise aerobocize and I caught a glimpse of Jordan in his PHAT 70’s retro bullets jersey. And I thought, you know, tomorrow, I’m gonna find a picture of Jordan in that jersey and put it on my blog and say something insightful about it, and of course tony beat me to it, and did it about 8 astro-medallions better than I probably ever could have.
Fukn blogfather mofo, thinkin’ he’s running things, stealing my ideas, he’s in my head yo, in my head, it ain’t right.
Oookkkkaaayyy, everyone just back away slowly, alf hasn’t had his medication yet this morning.
Wednesday, April 09, 2003
one time when I was camping with my family this giant bear came and sat next to our tent and chomped and chewed on some food or something he’d found. All of us slept, except for my dad who sat there having a heart attack with a face (although I didn’t see it, but I imagined) close to Jack Nicholson’s wife in the Shining when she’s like, really freaking out. After that, dad always slept with a tire iron right next to his sleeping bag.
Another time we were camping, my mom had a dream that some Chinese people were trying to steal her wedding ring, and she punched a hole in the tent in her sleep. Luckily this was not the same night that Yogi was having lunch next door. My mom always had dreams that Chinese people were trying to steal her wedding ring, and would wake up screaming sometimes. She always told us though, that we shouldn’t hold it against the Chinese people, it was just a dream. And I don’t. really.
Another time we were camping, this girl who was the daughter of some friends of the family ate a bunch of tar that had been sitting next to the trailer, which my grandpa and my dad and some other people were using to resurface the roof of the trailer cover-structure, whatever you call that. The trailer (which stood there all year) had to have a roof over it or else the winter snow would cave in the roof. This was and still is in Yosemite, at Arnold’s meadow.
I learned to ride a motorcycle at Arnold’s Meadow, also known as high sierra meadows.
I learned how to drive a boat at Mammoth pool resorvoir.
We used to go to lake tahoe in the summers, and there was a cool old fashioned coke machine sitting outside the office of the cabins that had the actual glass bottles, and a bottle opener on the machine, and I thought that was pretty cool. We were there for fourth of july and got to have sparklers. I remember sleeping in the same room with my grandma and her telling me I talked in my sleep. Older people don’t sleep all the way through the night, apparently, so she passed the time trying to figure out what the hell I was talking about. She couldn’t.
The first few times I walked to school by myself, my mom would follow me, hiding behind trees I assume, to make sure I got there ok. I never noticed her & she told me about it later. I remember being highly impressed and slightly fearful of her sneaky skills.
When I was a little kid my dad was working for a long time on a project in Iran, and he would be gone on travel for weeks at a time. One time one of his coworkers got busted trying to smuggle some drugs out of Iran, and they caught him at the airport. My dad watched the guy get dragged away by security and never saw him again. I think this was before the Ayatollah took over, so the shah was still in charge. That freaked me out, the idea that you could be in another country and if you act up they’ll drag your ass away never to be seen again.
My mom used to pack me lunches when I was a little kid, and one time she packed some pudding in this really cool Tupperware little bowl, and like a dumbass, at lunch, when I was done with my pudding, I threw away the Tupperware thing. I get home and hand in my lunchbox for cleanup/inspection, and my mom finds the Tupperware thing is missing. “where is it?” she asked. “I threw it away,” I answered. And then there was some cross words followed by me walking back to school and rummaging through the garbage bin and not finding it. I still feel guilty about it. yes I am weird. The pudding was good, though. This was before Bill Cosby did the advertisements, I’m pretty sure.
I used to get up so early for Saturday morning cartoons that the cartoons weren’t even on yet. This was in the late 70’s/early 80’s. it was a battle for TV control because the accepted rule with me & my sisters was first one in the tv room got to control the channel until they left the room. So earliest to rise and take some cereal out there and a blanket basically ran the room until cartoons were over. So like I said, sometimes I’d get up like at 5:30 or 6, because my sisters were getting pretty crafty and early, and you’ve gotta adjust to the competition, so there were some really shitty shows on before the cartoons started. They included “That’s Cat” which was this show where they would take you around to see things in the world, like to the dairy to see how milk is made or to the cookie factory to see how cookies are made or like to the slaughtering house to see how cows are “destroyed” – ok they didn’t show that last one. It had this little song that went “that’s cat, that’s cat, that’s cat, that’s cat,” – I wish you could hear me playing the oboe right now so you’d know the tune. I guess if something was “cat” that meant that it was cool. That show sucked. But it was either that or like Johnny Bench’s baseball lessons with that stupid bird thrown in for comic relief, or the pretty green red and yellow lines and that buzzing sound, so it was usually that’s cat.
It was all worth it in that I got to watch the SuperFriends and that superhero guy with dyno-mutt and bird-man and all the superhero shows and usually Scooby doo, and my sister’s would complain that they wanted to watch the smurfs, but I was like “eff the smurfs” ok I didn’t say that cuz you couldn’t even say “shut up” in my house without a stern look from mom, so I would just say “hey, these are the established rules. If I leave the room, you can watch the smurfs. Maybe I will leave after this show.” But they and I knew that I would not leave that room until there was absolutely nothing worth watching, so they accepted it and planned out their map of attack for next Saturday.
Monday, April 07, 2003
Europa. This summer. Some peeps are saying don’t go, ya know, scared of terrorists, I say, one person’s war is another’s bargain basement airline sale, and you know I’m countin’ my duckets. Long beach.
Update: well I just was distracted with a bunch of “work” which I supposedly get “money” for and now the game has been going for 23 minutes. Fukn shit. But really who gives a fuck about Kansas and Syracuse, oh, the agony of those poor coaches, never won the big one, who really gives a rat’s ass anyway, they’re 10 million times more successful both career and money-wise then 99% of the coaching population and 99.9% of the general population so they can kiss my ass on principle.
I gotta check prices for Europe tickets which have been dropping on the internet but I should call a travel agent and price-check orbitz and travelocity and those other biznieyatches. You never know, conspiracy-theory. Plus, I gotta get some paperwork together, almost together, personal shit, on the dl, none of your concern, seriously.
Oh and yeah the comments are working again but the thing that says how many there are is out of commission, so like, even though it looks like there are no comments, there may be a shitload, like in the post below, where lots of people liked tone-dogger’s phat art piece. I'm pretty sure it was inspired at least partially by RobotCop from 1989. no, not RoboCop, RobotCop, which came out about the same time, but due to bad publicity, never really was as big as RoboCop. a damn shame, because the characterization was on point, seriously. see it was sheer genius, like instead of "Stop, or there will be... trouble," ROBOTcop would say "Desist, or there will be... an altercation." it was seriously original and geed up from the feet up. if you never heard of it ya better ask somebody. but not me, cuz hey, johnny cochran already got me my 2.5 million, werd?
Anyway,Tone-dogger in case you didn’t know already designed my banner and was best man at my wedding so partiality and non-objectivity aside, he’s a talented mofo and long beach would never dispute that so neither should you beyaznizitch. Tone-dogger’s for hire as a personal artist to the stars, but don’t even think about stepping, his fee is like 89 g’s, and that’s just for a consultation. (no seriously, it’s only 68 g’z, and he’s got a Wednesday discount cuz it used to be magic, for all you la raveheads – old skool)
I guess I should do more work, cuz I was reviewing my little paper that says like how much money you’ve made so far in the year, and I’m lagging with what I want to make, gotta kick it in gear like master fear. I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m big ballin (shabba) but on the rizzle I want to cop a grip that would like knock over Waimanalo’s own Musashimaru. And his cousin Kimo.
Fuck this blog, until yall start flowing me ciznash yall can eat my nizzadlizzles. Just kidding, I don’t want your cash, keep it and buy a new grill sucka. (Oh snap)