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.

Monday, July 07, 2003

there’s so much shit going on I got so much shit to do and for the life of me I can’t stop fukn around. Writing this bullshit is probably not helping the cause.

I have something to copyright. It is as follows: you and crack should only be combined for plumber purposes. Or something like that. It may have sounded better in its original context.

If you see that somewhere else, report them to the fcc. The federal commission of crackalackin cake eaters. Oh wait that’s the fccc. Whatever. It’s all g. use it. love it. knead it like some dough, cuz it will make you some papa. Just get me my 10% and the dilly will be scrilly.

Here’s a system that might work. I will work. After I accomplish a task I will write a little something. Let’s try.

Oh wait, I guess now I’m supposed to do something. Ok.

Ok I just did some stuff. I’m being productive. The jerk store has not called yet. I will keep you advised.

I have a pen that when you push a button it glows green. And you can’t have it. it’s mine. Did I mention that I’m a butler in my spare time? Disregard this entire post if I have. Or have not. It’s extremely relevant in its irrelevance.

Oh and don’t sleep on chico & coolwadda.

Whoah I just got something else done. This is working very well. Blogging rights as a reward system.

You can fit a lot of stuff on a zip disk.

Pac bell ain’t shit compared to chavez ravine. Long beach.

Trying to get shit off my desk. Nothing can be left open without instructions to the romulans in express mode by tomorrow. Tomorrow is d-day. tomorrow night is airpline ridey ride. Red-eye shmed-eye.

Ok back from lunch. Jesus whut a fukn cluster fuck. shit always takes longer than you think and traffic, shit man, don’t you think they could clear the roads when they know I’m gonna be using them? Whut the fuk? I went for the special at the hoagie shop today and fuk, I shoulda stuck with my usual. They always fuk you at the drive through, and even though it wasn’t a drive through, well, it just didn’t work out. At the phillie shop get a fukn phillie, moron, don’t fuk around and try to dip into new and adventurous ideas, stick with what works.

Don’t take that to mean more than it does. I’m just talking about a fukn sandwich folks.

Anyway, I’m gonna go find an appropriately retarded picture and publish this crap and get back to slappin skunks.

Sunday, July 06, 2003

yo cho bro. I am kickin it after a nice long motorcycle ride, drinking a sam adam’s summer ale, thinking of all the things I should be doing and am not, and rapping at you like a, like a loch ness monster at the crackhead convention. Ok not like that, but shit, oh and speaking of crackheads, we were chilling in Waikiki taking a brizeak and we watch this crizacked out bizzo like, her pants falling down, ass crack careening, jacked UP broad, grab a pile of something out of the trash and start just grinding that shit, I mean eating it up, and I really felt like barfing for a second.

Saw everclear at the bayfest last nite. Pretty crip. Lots of drunk marines. Alex alexakis or whatever his ass seems pretty, um, personable. And the guitarist sang the last song, a cover of that cheap trick song, um, how does it go? Shit I can’t remember now, but it was hard core. Lots of people were moshing their asses off, but I’m getting up there kids and I had my glasses on, so I just watched the kids thrashed each other and remembered the old days. I ain’t saying they were bad or good. In a lot of ways they were, um, I won’t even go into it, let’s just say that they ain’t here anymore. Now don’t take this to mean I will never knock someone’s block off in the pit anymore, you know I will, but last night was neither the time nor place and it’ll take someone a lot more hardcore than everclear to pull me out of my semi-retirement. I’m thinking social D. yeah that’s the ticket. If I see social D again, I will mosh. Yes.

Anyway. So had a phat ride today with the boyzzz. Stopped at hard rock which was having some big ol’ chopper show and there were all these like really hardcore people there. It’s like, if you ride a motorcycle, this little gene wakes up in your mudulla oblongata and says “be as hardcore as possible, and impress all the people with your hardcoreness or else you will wither up & die.” Or something like that. Shit lots of crizip ass bikes on display though, tru dat. I was embarrassed to pull my beat up Honda into the parking area. I thought they were gonna boot me out like the joker I oh so can be.

Shit kobe arrested in Colorado? Whut the fuk? Hmmm. See here’s the advantage of watching espn and blogging at the same time, I might just beat instapundit with that scoop. Ok probably not. Probably won’t beat him and/or he probably doesn’t care.

Ok um I’m like at home chilling so I’m gonna stop writing. Just wanted to say wuddup. Yes we have innernet at the casa now. Yeah it’s pretty cool, and yeah I’m glad I didn’t blog the whole weekend up to now. I am not as much of a bloggologgologgo junky as I anticipated. I like not having time to blog. It means that um I’m living. Yeah whatever dude.

Oh yeah and T3 was fukn criiiippp. Go watch it if you haven’t yet. And if you saw it and didn’t like it, whatever, you’re stupid. Ok you’re not stupid, but gimme a break, that shit was tight.

Oh yeah, what do I have to do? Try pack? Chuuucchhh. Lots of packing to do, ie, when you have done none, there is a lot left. We leave Tuesday night, which is like, the night after tomorrow night, which is like exciting, and shit, but whoah, like chill rob g would say, shit is coming up. Umm, no wait, black rob says whoah. Whatever. Over it. Oh and I gotta start playing with the new video camera we bought so I don’t have to like be messing around with it & look like a jackass when I’m filming some kind of French anti-usa festival at the base of the Eiffel tower, at which I will walk up and either say, hey you French people, whut the fuk? Dammit America rules, or else I will ignore it completely, or else I will just laugh and eat some fukn, oh yeah shit, those pastry things, that they have stands for. What are those called? They’re like these bread things, with different flavors inside, that’s what I remember of france 15 years ago, oh yeah that and Versailles. Um. Ok bye. Aloooohhhhaaa.

Oh and the captain Britain pic cuz we’re going to England too. I don’t think they have a captain france, and don’t even get me started on captain Switzerland. Seriously.