Saturday, October 04, 2003

Well Cal couldn’t get it done today but they still get pub cuz they’re the golden muthafuckin bears.


And shit, they could tank every game for the rest of the season and I’ll still have a soft spot for this year’s squad after that upset of USC last weekend.

So carry on, you piles of donkey shit.

In China there’s mazurkas that (ok hold the fuck on, bill, I’ve been a patient man but this is fucking ridiculous. I try to type mufuckas and you change it to mufuckin mazurkas? Shit ain’t right cuz, ok where was I, sorry, I don’t know why I let you , the reader in on my, um, estupido observaciones) fight their prize crickets against each other. And they spend as much flow on a championship cricket as like you’d spend on a dope ass stallion, which the travel channel says is about 20 bucks, which means I need to get on a mufuckin plane to china with like an industrial size horse trailer and about 100 bucks and buy 5 of like the crippest horses and somehow ship them back to santa anita raceway in southern cal and sell those mofos to like the underground yakuza or don consigliere or whoever the fuck pay phat cash for thoroughbreds and like hook up mad coin, kid.

So like, yeah, I got a new front tire put on the Honda this am. Now it is all pimped out, new tires, horn fixed, brakes tightened up, fukn all g’d out but it still looks kinda ghetto so no one will even prolly think about stealin it. Same with our car. The champ. Kid runs like a mufuckin champ which is why we call it el campeon and it’s got like a pimpin sound system, way more pimp than you’d ever think looking at that ride, cuz like, it looks so ghetto, paint all oxidized and shit, like, na mean, looks like a bucket but when you roll it you’re like fucket. Yah that’s the tick.

So like there’s a bunch of other crap which I was gonna say, well actually not, but well, whatever, it was prolly a bunch of horseshit anyway.

Long beach.

Friday, October 03, 2003

the ghost of randy rhoads

If you didn’t care what happened to me

And I didn’t care for you

We would zig zag away through the boredom and pain

Occasionally glancing up through the rain

Wondering which of the buggers to blame

And watching for pigs on the wing

You know that I care what happens to you

And I know that you care for me too

So I don’t feel alone

Or the weight of the stone

Now that I’ve found somewhere safe

To bury my bone

And any fool knows a dog needs a home

A shelter from pigs on the wing

Pigs on the Wing - parts 1 & 2

Pink Floyd

The ocean didn’t call today.

But chef Boyardee did, and he said I should whip something out of my ass right quick before going to lunch.

So here it is. In all its glory.

How am I doing so far? Does it have that “magic?” are you feeling the flo? I need to know.

Not to get all Mark Anthony on you.

I figger if I put in a lot of spaces this will look longer and appear to be constituted of some kind of effort.

If a tree falls in the forest and no one’s there does it make a sound? In that same vein if someone’s talking smack about the jurk storr but they don’t hear about it does that make it ok?

Not to get all theological on you.

Please go read bing. Like right now.

Um, let’s see, what else? Remember that nice n smooth song, sometimes I rhyme slow sometimes I rhyme quick? Catchy tune. What was that? what about it? oh nothing, just ran through my head.

I do hope that’s ok with you.

Well traffic seems to be dying down pixel by pixel. Still a shitload more than I had before but not the onrush it was last week. Which will mean less ass-tards commenting but also not as much fun and drama dealing with said ass-tards.

Can I go ahead and copyright ass-tard? Can I get a witness? An amen, a hallelujah?

Something, shit. throw a dog a bone for chrissake.

Tengo hambre. Tiempo para comer. Ay voy. Adios.

Thursday, October 02, 2003

berkeleyjoe: babooz
muscle6868: DUDE!
muscle6868: i got your back on that site
muscle6868: I repped
muscle6868: fo sheez my neez off da heez
berkeleyjoe: oh did you see where i went off?
muscle6868: fo sheez
berkeleyjoe: on the hawaii thing
berkeleyjoe: fukn bitch
berkeleyjoe: fuck her
muscle6868: yup
muscle6868: luckiest
muscle6868: guy
muscle6868: ever
berkeleyjoe: how
berkeleyjoe: did you see the comment on the hawaii post?
berkeleyjoe: i'm not really mad at that church chick
berkeleyjoe: i'm just messing with her
berkeleyjoe: this BEYATCH
berkeleyjoe: is in the comments on the 10 hawaii things post talking yang
muscle6868: i saw
muscle6868: and i commented
berkeleyjoe: hahahahaha
berkeleyjoe: there it is
berkeleyjoe: it wasn't there a minute ago
berkeleyjoe: fuck yeah
berkeleyjoe: best answer possible
berkeleyjoe: i present to you the golden butt-nugget
muscle6868: YAY!
muscle6868: is that good
berkeleyjoe: it's the highest honor for a commenter
berkeleyjoe: it's like the equivalent to the medal of honor
berkeleyjoe: argh FUUUUUUUCKK that bitch
berkeleyjoe: i never get pissed at comments
berkeleyjoe: but that got me sooo pissed
berkeleyjoe: fuck her
muscle6868: dont let it
muscle6868: youre a cult icon now
berkeleyjoe: what
berkeleyjoe: ever
berkeleyjoe: cult icon my ass
berkeleyjoe: i'm just some stupid joker
berkeleyjoe: i mean, don't take that as self-pity
berkeleyjoe: but, ah, whatever
muscle6868: i hear ya
berkeleyjoe: right on
muscle6868: you should make a whole entry of cuss words
berkeleyjoe: haha
berkeleyjoe: fuck yeah
berkeleyjoe: some guy did that once...
muscle6868: and hawaii
muscle6868: just all myths about hawaii
berkeleyjoe: ah i don't know jack shit about that though
berkeleyjoe: fuk her and her history book
berkeleyjoe: fuckn bitch
muscle6868: say like
muscle6868: I was playign my ukelele
muscle6868: eating some pineapple
muscle6868: after surfing
berkeleyjoe: hahahahaa
berkeleyjoe: hahha
muscle6868: and we roasted a pig
berkeleyjoe: lol
muscle6868: and used some idols
muscle6868: to cast bad spells on white men
berkeleyjoe: and then gave this little kid this idol...
berkeleyjoe: oh yeah you said that
muscle6868: haha
berkeleyjoe: oh fuck
berkeleyjoe: funny
berkeleyjoe: thx dude
berkeleyjoe: i feel better now
muscle6868: my pleasure
muscle6868: and also
muscle6868: mention how you hang out with tom sellenck
muscle6868: selleck*
muscle6868: and Dan-o
berkeleyjoe: yeah i always say book em
berkeleyjoe: cuz the white man don't have time for the paperwork
berkeleyjoe: i know half whut that broad is saying is on some racial shit
berkeleyjoe: ah whatevs
muscle6868: yup
berkeleyjoe: so whut the fuk is up with you
muscle6868: nada
muscle6868: same ol shit
berkeleyjoe: was that offensive to say that white man paperwork remark
muscle6868: not at all
muscle6868: white men do hate it
berkeleyjoe: haahahaha
berkeleyjoe: fuk that's all i do
berkeleyjoe: i am white by the way
muscle6868: im not
berkeleyjoe: haole = white ass
muscle6868: by the way
berkeleyjoe: yah you're mexican yeah?
muscle6868: and i hate mowing lawns
muscle6868: go figure
berkeleyjoe: whut?
berkeleyjoe: no way
muscle6868: i know
berkeleyjoe: that's impossible
muscle6868: and i dont sell oranges
muscle6868: i think the world is gonna implode
berkeleyjoe: do you at least wait out in front of 7-11 for random jobs?
berkeleyjoe: have you seen the seinfeld
berkeleyjoe: where that guy is married to a jewish chick
berkeleyjoe: so he starts making all these jewish jokes to jerry?
berkeleyjoe: like a dentist or something
muscle6868: yes
berkeleyjoe: and then jerry talks shit about dentists
muscle6868: classic
muscle6868: he converts for the jokes
berkeleyjoe: and is called anti-dentite
berkeleyjoe: hahahaha
muscle6868: I lik when he has porno mags in there
muscle6868: and it becomes adults only
berkeleyjoe: whut? the dentist office?
berkeleyjoe: in that episode?
muscle6868: no
muscle6868: diff one
muscle6868: same guy
berkeleyjoe: no way
berkeleyjoe: i don't remember that
berkeleyjoe: damn you
muscle6868: sorry
berkeleyjoe: damn
berkeleyjoe: magneto is just going off
berkeleyjoe: new x-men
berkeleyjoe: he knocked out everybody destroyed every bridge into mannhattan basically wreaking havoc
muscle6868: bastard
muscle6868: i hate him
berkeleyjoe: like hardcore
berkeleyjoe: mass human murder goin on
berkeleyjoe: inetersting how the x-men
berkeleyjoe: originally
berkeleyjoe: was all a metaphor for like racial harmony
muscle6868: yup
berkeleyjoe: like the whole mutant/human thing
berkeleyjoe: yet for the first whatever 20 years of the comic
berkeleyjoe: it's all white people
muscle6868: ALL
berkeleyjoe: i mean in the 60's
berkeleyjoe: there were a lot of other races in the US
berkeleyjoe: not until like storm and that sunfire guy
muscle6868: like 3 others
berkeleyjoe: like in the 80s
berkeleyjoe: wait, late 70's?
berkeleyjoe: 70's
berkeleyjoe: you'd think
berkeleyjoe: they would have put a little more color in t here
berkeleyjoe: based on the whole underlying meaning of the book
berkeleyjoe: fuck how is rush limbaugh?
berkeleyjoe: what a fukn dumbass
muscle6868: hey, it happens
berkeleyjoe: i don't even think whut he said was that bad
berkeleyjoe: just
berkeleyjoe: stupid!
berkeleyjoe: i mean, retarded
muscle6868: not at all
muscle6868: i think it was fine
muscle6868: and the day a white man cant make an opinion is sad
berkeleyjoe: yeah totally
berkeleyjoe: i agree
berkeleyjoe: but he was way off base
muscle6868: unfortunately, south park got it right
berkeleyjoe: to say mcnabb is just getting props cuz of his race
berkeleyjoe: is retarded
berkeleyjoe: the guy's good
muscle6868: hes def black, too
berkeleyjoe: but whatever
berkeleyjoe: it's just fuking stupid
berkeleyjoe: i hate that guy just cuz he's so bout the cash
berkeleyjoe: all he gives a fuck about is stirring shit up for his ratings
berkeleyjoe: it's so one-sided politics
berkeleyjoe: not even glancing at the other side of the coin
berkeleyjoe: bah
berkeleyjoe: what do you mean by south park
muscle6868: what, are you stealing my bahs now?
berkeleyjoe: what? you want copyright on that too
berkeleyjoe: greedy fuck
muscle6868: nah
muscle6868: thats ok
muscle6868: south park
muscle6868: they were supposed to make an anti-hate flag
muscle6868: so they made a flag of white stick figures hanging a black stick figure
muscle6868: so, everyone was calling the kids racists
muscle6868: blah blah
muscle6868: and at the end, the kids say, "You know, all we see is some people hanging another PERSON. We didn't care what the color was. It's YOU people who are making it racist."
berkeleyjoe: ha
berkeleyjoe: i think i remember that now
berkeleyjoe: or something like it
berkeleyjoe: kids are the best
muscle6868: its like, if i say mcnabb sucks, its racist
muscle6868: but if no one wouldbring it up, there'd be no problem
berkeleyjoe: but that's not what he said
muscle6868: theyre trying to find racism
muscle6868: no, i know
muscle6868: im just saying
berkeleyjoe: but they definitely did twist his words around
berkeleyjoe: it was a dumb thing to say, but he had a potential point
berkeleyjoe: although i don't think in my opinion it applies to mcnabb
berkeleyjoe: but he knew what the fuck he was doing
muscle6868: kordell
berkeleyjoe: he was being fukn limbaugh, stirring hte pot
berkeleyjoe: oh shit, kordell
muscle6868: he sucks
berkeleyjoe: i heard today he's a homo
muscle6868: but still has a job
muscle6868: YES!
muscle6868: i believe it
berkeleyjoe: this guy from ny
berkeleyjoe: told me his friends dad or some shit is a cop
berkeleyjoe: and busted him in pittsburgh in a parked car fully blowing some dude
berkeleyjoe: granted this is like 4th hand story
muscle6868: YES!
muscle6868: although
muscle6868: that upsets me
muscle6868: he's kordell
muscle6868: he should be getting head
berkeleyjoe: hahaha
berkeleyjoe: naw, he think he's more of a catcher than a pitcher
muscle6868: i se
muscle6868: e
berkeleyjoe: the funniest is that old eddie murphy bit about buttfucking
berkeleyjoe: iwth t he celebrities
muscle6868: haha
berkeleyjoe: the honeymooners guys
berkeleyjoe: mr. t
berkeleyjoe: "and don't come to early or I'll squeeze my butt cheeks together, rip your dick off"
berkeleyjoe: it has all the tough guys playing catcher
berkeleyjoe: i always thought that was the funniest part
muscle6868: hahahaha
berkeleyjoe: this conversation has some kinda classic shit in it
muscle6868: i think so
muscle6868: one of those copy paste things
berkeleyjoe: i'm almost thining post it
muscle6868: oooh
muscle6868: thats pretty hardcore right there
berkeleyjoe: haha
berkeleyjoe: yeah
berkeleyjoe: it might be overboard
muscle6868: if you do, let me add
muscle6868: hey, the jurk storr called, and said that they ocean called there looking for you, but you were at the dentist
muscle6868: i took a message
berkeleyjoe: thanks, i really appreciate it
berkeleyjoe: i was expecting a call from them actually
berkeleyjoe: fuck i gotta call off my dinner reservations now though
muscle6868: im sorry
berkeleyjoe: its cool
muscle6868: the ocean fucks everything up


Read this.

Discuss. Now tell me, is the church lady, i mean, ya know, dana carvey's old character, was that the last role that he was actually funny in? can i get an amen? there in the left aisle, hmmmm? yeah. um, so his latest like chip commercial or whatever it is at least ranks in the top 18 worst ads of all time. hi i'm a guy shuffling cards and then this funny manly looking woman that looks strangely the same as me starts shuffling potato chips, ya know, showing that their stackable, to compete against pringles, (for which i am as famous as the backup dancer, ya know, the dark haired feller doing the running man in the back, while mr. pringle or whatever his name is is like, rapping or something? yah i'm as famous as that guy. and i think he's like a newspaper delivery warehouse sales clerk in de moines iowa at this time) yeah they're like lays or some whatevers new potato chip.

ok granted he was pretty dizarn funny in wayne's world and a lot of other snl stuff, but i mean since then, whut? whut have you done for us dana carvey? i mean, i know he had cancer or something, and i understand that totally is rough, but that should not change the simple fact that he is not funny. i'm glad you beat cancer, dana carvey, i really am, even though you do infest crappy commercials and lately movies and you're just in general not good. damn i'm being a little hard on dana carvey today. well ok then.

i'm pretty sure the ball just hit the ceiling at like 3 million miles an hour.

oh yeah, my question was, before i got sidetracked just the tiniest bit, was that you know that character the church lady was she like totally on batu or something? or the crizack.

Aye aye cap’n.

Whut if your last name was stubing and you suddenly through no direct interaction of your own found yourself to be some kind of captain. Of anything. Even if it was just the captain of your junior high’s intramural ping pong team (oh sorry, table tennis, shizzle!) even for just two minutes. At that moment your name would be captain stubbing. No you darn feller bill gates, I did mean stubing. I’m not stubbing your damn toe. And don’t forget to say the “n” sound at the end of damn, you know it’s just like the word damnation except you don’t see people saying “dammation” do you? c’mon bro, get with tha pg. That’s pee gee for you in the back. Not to get all Kelsey grammer on you.

Ok I’m copywriting that. you know this. Not to get all Kelsey grammer on you is the winner and new champion, of, um, my files. Replacing the jurk storr.

Ok, no, I take that back, nothing will ever EVER replace the jurk storr. Cuz it called, and they were all out of spinach salad. And I was sooooo stoked out of my gourd.

See, my gourd is super stoked right now at this time cuz I KNOW that the jurk storr called and that means I’m somebody, I’m somebody darn it all, and just like plastic man can put himself into the shape of like a chair or a speedboat or some stuff like that doesn’t mean that I can’t be a quarter of the man I’ll be in 2005. quarter plus. Or weight. Quarter pounder with cheese?

Was that nothing. Well it least it didn’t have vulgarity. I could never sanction that, yet I do. So anyway, I don’t know, so far the jurk storr is coming in loud and clear on this channel, and whatever you may think about static or cling or tide with bleach is all your own ballgame, especially once it gets into extra innings, I can’t sanction that inasmuch I would ever think to play table tennis on an unsanctioned table-tennis playing table. Seriously. It would have to be sanctioned by at least three authorities and then resanctioned by a indeterminant executive sanctioning body.

Thank you.

mad shizzle to dizzle.

But you know I always reserve a pequenito pocket of time for thou, the contingent, formerly almost indiscriminate, at this time somewhat more substantial, but be it 2 or 2 large there’s no place like la casa. Comprendan ustedes? Si.

Mrs. P’s familia loves to laugh at me when I try to speak Spanish. Apparently I sound like a retarded donkey. It’s all good though, the clown in me digs the whole court jester dillio, even though at times that little boy in my throat is crying out for respect.

Ah but respect, it must be earned. And truly I get mad props, just not for my eskilles wit da espanolio, na mean? Fa sho.

So like, I’m starting to feel like I’m pulling a Kenny Banyon ovaltine metaphor with this whole jurk storr thing. Or maybe even an Andy Kaufman pro wrestling simile, ya dig, like when somebody gets so focused on one out of left field idea to the point where people are seriously wondering what the fuck is going on.

Fuck it, though, I like that. I think it fucking rules that Kaufman told Hollywood to kiss his ass (while at the same time repping it to the extreme, vandal style) and went and rustled around with redneck wrestlers on some bizarre-ass career suicide endeavor. That’s what makes him so damn gangsta. I like the fact, no, I love the fact, that he took jokes that no one necessarily liked nor understood and used them ad infinitum, grinding them into the ground, until they were completely devoid of any meaning whatsoever. And then kept doing it, until the audience was either sickened or disgusted or annoyed or all of the above. that’s fukn perseverance goddammit. That’s immor fucking tality beyatch. That’s fukn ditching the herd and going for a fukn sandwich at the deli while everybody else grazes on oats and wheat germ per the “sheddyool”.

So fuck it, the jurk storr did call, goddammit, and yes, I am their number one best seller, and the damn ocean called too while we’re at it, and yes the prices of shrimp, well, expect them to skyrocket through the goddamm roof, cuz the stock is getting low, peeples.

If you really have no fukn idea whut the fuk I’m talking about when I reference jerkero Mercado you need to click here. As in right the fuk now. I don’t know who the hell this foolio is, but he captures the whole substance of the matter in a nutshell that a squirrel would seriously stash away in a little tree hidey-hole for like the time equivalent of 85,347 astro-medallions.

Long beach.

Wednesday, October 01, 2003

10 more things you MIGHT not have known about living Hawaii

Peep the sidebar links if you wanna chiggedy check out items 1-40. There’s a special little section. aight? Aight.

Okey dokey, here goes.

41. When a parent introduces a little kid to another adult friend of theirs, the kid immediately starts calling them “uncle” or “auntie”. The adults refer to it as well, like “go tell uncle Alfred that Junior-Boy needs more charcoal for the barbeque.” So then from then on you are an unofficial uncle/auntie. There’s not like any responsibility with this job, and after a while you don’t even notice it, but it used to amuse me when I would show up at this guy’s house for beers/football games back when I first moved out here, and his kid would come running down the driveway “Uncle Alfred, Uncle Alfred! Check it out, I got a new bike” or some whatever like that. Anyway, so yeah. This kinda ties in with #30 (hanai children) in that the community becomes like an extended family to some extent.

42. Kickin’ it in the carport. As you walk up and down local suburbs, you will see all kinds of activity going on in the carports. Since houses and their associated lots are usually pretty small compared to houses on the mainland (hey, we live on a frikken island) people tend to use their carport for just about anything besides keeping a damn car in it. people set up sports viewing areas, watching tv, talking story, playing games, just sitting on a couch watching the day go by. It also ties into the idea that you wanna be outside cuz the weather’s so nice. You especially see this in houses that don’t have a big lanai (balcony).

43. no helmet law for us motorcycle riders. Not that that makes a difference to me. I always wear my helmet. Yes I do. I am a responsible citizen and value my own life. (Hi Mom & Mrs. P)

44. Our latest interstate highway, the H-3 (pictured), is supposedly the most expensive road per square mile in the United States. It runs from Kaneohe Marine Base, on the east side of the island, along a series of massive support structures up to a high point on the cliff sides of the Koolau mountains, through a tunnel going straight through the mountain, out the other side, down the valley and into Aiea and Pearl Harbor. There was mad controversy from the Hawaiians over the fact that the highway was displacing their sacred heiiaus (see #46, below) as well as budgetary and planning delays, but it opened its gates in 98, if I remember correctly. Also, you may be wondering why the hell Hawaii has interstate Highways, well the answer is they all connect military bases to each other, which offers justification for uncle sam to open his pockets. More on the US military’s presence here is below in #48.

45. the “ice” (crystal meth) epidemic. Hawaii is said to have the highest per capita amount of people strung out on the smokeable, rock, version of crystal methanphetamine, known as “ice”. It is literally tearing apart a lot of families and much of the community. The family services departments are swamped with cases of homes that are in complete shambles, smelling of rotting food, little kids with wet diapers running around, while Mom & Dad smoke up, not a care in the world. They recently ran a state-sponsored television special that pre-empted all the basic tv channels for one hour last week, so the problem is getting a lot of attention, but sadly, it’s an issue with obviously no clear cut solution.

46. Heiaus. I’m probably spelling this wrong. These are ancient Hawaiian burial grounds, and the joke is you can’t walk three feet on the island without bumping into one. So anytime anyone wants to construct anything, they gotta be super careful of any possible remains they might find. This always becomes an issue when new roads are being built, as well as any other major project. They’ve been talking for years, for example, about putting up a new super-Wal-Mart in town, and construction started, to lay the foundation, but they keep finding more and more bones, which stops everything, cuz they gotta bring in a cultural expert, the whole nine yards. I can see that it’s hard for the Hawaiians, because they see these white/asian/portugues/whatever people digging up their ancestors, so a lot of care has to be put into it when this happens, whole heiiaus have been moved, sometimes burial ceremonies conducted again, for people that no one has any idea of who they were.

47. the ukulele is by far the most popular local musical instrument. and they don’t pronounce it like on the mainland, “you-cul-ay-lee”, it’s pronounced “oo-koo-lay-lay”, not to get all Kelsey Grammer on you. It’s not uncommon at all to see kids wandering around carrying one with them, just jamming out tunes as they cruise around, playing on the bus, in parks, in Waikiki, wherever. And I gotta say, it’s pretty amazing what some of these folks can bust out on that little thing with just 4 strings. Prolly the most famous local ukulele player is an Asian guy named Jake Shimabakuro (pictured), who used to play with a group called Pure Heart. Supposedly he’s getting like superstar status in japan right now. Anyway, he can play that thing SO fast it’s unbelievable.

48. There is a gigantic US military presence here. Which makes sense when you think about it, I mean, we are a highly strategic location, almost halfway across the Pacific to Asia. All four branches are highly represented, which makes for a high population of service people on the island. You see a lot of military around, but it’s an interesting subculture, in that they build these bases which are almost totally insular, in that they have their own schools, own stores (which have cheap ass prices), own clubs, own hospitals, the whole nine yards, so their isn’t a giant need for the service people to go out and mingle with the local population, which of course they do anyway, and yes I’m rambling.

49. Town and country. No it’s not just a t-shirt brand. Town & Country is a good way to sum up the division of the island. One of the beautiful things about this place is you can go to Honolulu, a fairly large, cosmopolitan city, and then you can drive for 40 minutes and be in hardcore countryside with not a building over two stories in site. Haleiwa’s the biggest town up there, and it’s pretty rinky-dink. On the way up to north shore from town (Honolulu), you literally drive through miles & miles of pineapple and sugarcane fields, so you get this total feeling of separation from where you were. The drive up north from our side (Kaneohe area) is even nicer, all up along the coast, the water right there on your right, lots of funky beach parks (funky in a good way), all kine scenic stuff to peep, yah me likey.

50. Father Damien. This one you may have heard of. Back in the day, when the first Haoles came in and started living here, they had a big problem with the local people catching leprosy, now known as Hansen’s disease. Yah this is the one where like your flesh basically rots and falls off. Anyway, they made this leper colony on Molokai, at this really remote location on the island (which Molokai is remote enough in itself) that to this day you can only access by boat or helicopter. Anyone who came up with the disease was sent to this colony for purposes of quarantining them from the general public. Apparently something about the biological makeup of Hawaiians make them especially susceptible to the disease. So there was this Catholic Priest named Father Damien (pictured at a young age) who lived and worked at the colony with all the lepers, and eventually after years and years, caught the disease and died of it himself. I’m pretty sure he was actually deified or whatever by the pope years ago, but anyway, he’s like a local legend for giving so much of himself to help and care for the people that had this terrible disease. The colony is actually still there, and there are a few remaining people from the old days that still live there.

Tuesday, September 30, 2003

Damn it’s hot as hell.

Fukn anti is a strait pimp. He knows that when you’re huggin that porcelain god it can be a tough road to ho wit yo body tryin ta decide whetha to yuke or not, you wanna yuke soooo bad but shit dawg your bod jus strait wants to fuck wit you, fukn pissin you the fuck off.

Anyway, what? Oh yeah and he calls the toilet puke kryptonite.

And yeah some other shit.

So the jurk storr called and get this? They were totally the FUCK out of shrimp. Nada.

Zero my hero. Just like mr. Bake.

I never had the baker but lots o my friends did and he was a math teacher and his favorite saying was “zero my hero” and supposedly he was such a dumbass and totally like off his rocker, but anyway he was a fukn pile for those in the know.

And where was I? Oh yes mr. Bake, so anyway he didn’t know jack shit. supposedly. I never had him. in class you sick bastards. Yes so anyway, where the fuck was I anyway?

Oh yeah. The jurk storr. It called. They’re out of you. even though, and get this, even though apparently I, yes, me of all people, and yes I know it’s not proper to use me there but I wanted an alternative to I, get my jist, ah yes, so, um, yes, I am their #1 BEST SELLER.

I’m not fucking kidding. And yes its fukn stupid I just used capital letters. Deal with it china. Deal with it Russia, Australia, fukn you ess of hay, all yall in brazil, fukn Canada, I see yall, and don’t even think those Eskimo mufuckers sittin in the back sippin cuervo are off the hook on this shit neither.

I’m jake steed bitch.

Whuts up homey, don’t you know me? Simon? Yah as I step to the microphone area, Buddha los anjeles. Cypress hoes. Yah mufuckin cypress, you got una problema, well I’m boracho and I tried to play your grandma matcho. Wait his grandma, grandma moses, she made a bunch of sick ass paintings.

Oh yeah and peep the detox.

I don’t even know where to begin. Not that there’s like all this crap to write about, I mean, totally the opposite, there ain’t shit to say, there ain’t nada to impart, there ain’t zero my hero to convey to thou, the contingent.

But that is a bold-faced lie. Utter bullshit. I mean, don’t let a used car salesman sell you a horse and carriage with like gold lacing but on second glance it’s a fukn jackass and a wheel barrow. don’t be that guy, that girl, that entity. Don’t. I plead with thou.

Blah dee blah dee blah. Oy vey, the pressure to entertain thee the personages that doth enter these gates of stately wayne manor’s back shed. Why do they call it taking out to the wood shed when you get your ass beat? Oh yeah because in the old days when you were gonna get the beatdown from pops he’d take you out to the shed for a whuppin.

Was I the only one that was scared when, on “little house on the prairie” Pa would tell albert it was time for a whuppin, and they had to go out to the shed? I mean, was he using like a horsewhip on his ass? That’s what I assumed. I remember this one episode where Albert and this other kid, I think the son of that really hairy bummish-looking guy that was Charles’ friend, got in trouble for like, fuck I don’t even know, and the hairy fucker told his kid it was time to go out to the shed for a serious whuppin, but then was like, ya know, it’s ok, ferget it. And at the same time, other side of the prairie, Charles was like, albert you are getting your ass whupped too, and then he changed his mind, like, nah it’s cool, no ass wuppin tonite, kid. But then albert, idiot that he was, was like, no, Pa, let’s go out there. Like albert was concerned that he needed that ass-whuppin. He was like monitoring his own punishment. Hmmm, actually maybe it was the other kid. Whoever the fuck it was, were they like masochistic or just insanely noble?

Jesus who gives a flying fuck?

Speaking of jesus, when I was at the gym last night some dumbass had left all these religious comic pamphlets all over the place. You know the ones, where like they tell you that eating the holy host (the bread) at church will send you straight to hell, cuz like the ancient Babylonians set the precedent, by convincing people to eat it telling them that without it they couldn’t be “saved”. Was that a sentence? Bill gates is not telling me it wasn’t, and the rhesus monkeys aren’t screaming, so I’ll assume the positive. The comic's point, though, was the the bread in church is like a leash to the false symbols of God. The comic had this picture of like this guy eating the bread at church and this little demon lived on that little piece of bread and was like grabbing his face as he ate it. that freaked me out. It also made me a little hungry, but I resisted, as it was like 11:30 at night and eating that late is not good for the estomago.

The other jesus comic was about how if you pray to the virgin mary you’re going to hell. I was starting to sense a trend. It had like these pictures of mary all freaking out because people are worshipping her, and like quotes from the bible about how you shouldn’t worship idols and then it showed the pope with this big stick with a gold astro-medallion on it like sneering at the crowd and they were like implying that the catholic church and the pope are sending people to hell by having them pray to the virgin mary, the point being that you are only supposed to pray to God.

I think this is a total boatload of bullshit. If you want to pray to the virgin mary, go for it, I say. If you want to pray to bob fucking big boy I say go for it too. Shit, as long as you live a good life and don’t like stab people in their neck while walking down 5th avenue, everything should be copacetic. I just can’t imagine God up there with a little scorecard all “oh shit, that guy ate that bread, well fuck him, he’s going to hell,” or “oh that broad just said a prayer to saint mark, well she is going to burn forever in the fires of Beelzebub, I mean damn, she should know you only pray to me and my son,” or like “well, that guy did just pull 85 people out of that burning building, but then he said thank you virgin mary for protecting me, and well, that ain’t cool, notch another one for the red feller.” Geez, I mean, gimme a break.

If God is that picky about exactly how you pray and think about religion and less concerned with the way you actually live your life, if he (or she, yes, God could be a girlie) is so particular about whether you envision jesus or the holy ghost or whether you look at a statue of the virgin or whether you light this candle or drink this wine or what church you go to, to the point that it will decide your fate in the afterlife, irregardless of the way you treated other people, animals, and the planet that you live on, well then sign me up for hell, cuz I can’t handle all those little rules and I could use a tan anyway.

Monday, September 29, 2003

I’ve got some breaking news for you folks. If we don’t start regulating on these goddamm loggers, fukn we ain’t gonna have any more orangutans in like 10-20 years.

That would suck. Fuck these loggers, I mean shit, can’t you get wood from the jurk storr or some shit like that? Serially though, fuck, don’t hurt our brothers from a hairier mother, that’s fucked up.

I remember one time in elementary school, maybe 2nd or 3rd grade, we were studying animal extinction, and like the duck-billed platypus, and shit, and the teacher was like “ok students, why is it important to make sure that animals don’t become extinct?” and the whole class started coming up with reasons, like, shit I don’t even know, because in case the jurk storr calls we don’t wanna have to tell them we ran out of something. What did we say anyway? Um, I don’t even know, like, because they put in work on the ecosystem or utilization of some other fancy words we had no idea of what they meant. Anyway, the teacher was like “no, no, no, wrong, you suck, no, no.”

And then she finally explained to us, after our little useless brains had run out of half-baked ideas, the simplicity of it all. It was a trick fucking question. We don’t want animals to go extinct just because it would suck if they were gone. Basically, the whole idea of once they’re gone, they’re gone, and it’s as simple as that, you’ve lost something that can never be regained, unless you bring in fukn professor buttcracker and his like moreau island or whatever, and that’s, um, unlikely.

So there was a point buried somewhere deep in all that bullshit, but I lost track of it and, unlike extinct animals, I don’t see it as important enough to recover. If you gained something from it, feel free to buy me a Popsicle at your friendly neighborhood wal-mart. Mail it to my secret drop box at 976 Phuk Street, Honolulu, HI 96969. aloha.

I like orangutans, even though I think it should be spelled orangutang. I mean, doesn’t everyone say it that way? Don’t you want to say it like that? I mean, they hang on stuff, right? So like, orangutang, like they hang on shit like slang and bang and flang. Ok flang ain’t a word.

Oh and PS fuck Kelsey Grammer. Fuck that guy straight to hell. Gawd I saw him on Conan O’Brien and did you know that he is like Mr. Anal Retentive when it comes to using words correctly and pronouncing them correctly? Even ones that have come into the common vernacular and have been used the wrong way for, like, eons. Get the fuck over it bitch. Shit. I’m trying to think of an example. Oh yeah. Succinct. Ok, everyone says it “sussinct” right? But this piece of elephant excrement went on this little tirade about how you shoud say it “suck-sinct” like “suck-sess” and blah blah blah. Fuck you tired old fuck, don’t you have anything better to care about? Even conan was like “ok dude, you must be a barrel of laughs at the Christmas party.” what a piece of shite. Yes, pronounced “SHITE” not the proper “shit”. fuck you kelsey grammer, you pathetic drunk.

Hmmm. Maybe that was a little excessive. Oh well, carlton doesn’t let me edit this shit anyway, which makes me understand that the responsibility for any issues that any section of the contingent may have with any portion of the words or ideas expressed herein must lie solely on the shoulders of the rhesus monkeys. They edit this shit, and 99.9% of the time I KNOW they don’t even read it. so fuck them. But not to the point that they become extinct. Because that’s not good, don’t ask why, it’s just not. Actually, the more fucking they do, the less odds they have of being extinct, so actually, yeah fuck them. Well actually, you shouldn’t fuck them, cuz I believe that that will not procreate the species, per se, unless there’s some kind of half monkey half man special gene splicing technique I’m not aware of, but I doubt it, so actually, if you’re a rhesus monkey particularly, fuck them. Yes.

And if you’re an orangutan, consider getting it on tonite, as well. Preferably with another orangutan. You’d be doing the planet and yourself a favor. One of those win-win dillios. Mahalo.

Sunday, September 28, 2003

Well I thought I’d wander over here & spit at you kind folks for a minute. Not spit as in gather up saliva in my mouth and hurl it in your direction but spit as in the counterculture’s terminology for verbally emitting various phrases. Yah like that.

Ohh weeh. Is it me or are these screwdrivers getting a little stronger as the night goes on? Well, hmmm, I’m the bartender so I guess that question is for me to answer, but you know me, (actually you don’t), and I always like to keep myself guessing. Seems I’m a total fucking asshole like that.

So yeah the cal bears kicked USC’s sorry bitch ass all over strawberry canyon. Gyeah. Actually it was a really close game, but don’t let Oski hear that, he’ll tear your hamburger straight out your stomach. Ferreal. Jesus I remember one time we drove down to LA for the Cal-SC game and the Trojan’s kicked some serious golden bear ass that day and we had to sit there and watch that fuckbag (buckbean? Whut the fuck Bill gates, what the motherFUCK is a buckbean? Seriously, folks, when I write fuckbag Bill Gates turns it into buckbean. Seriously though what in all the names that are holy is a muthafuckin buckbean? Bill Gates you pathetic piece of donkey shit. Take a fukn swan dive off the lanai of your billion dollar house on lake Washington and take a deep breath of tuna turds. Aloha) ride around the damn stadium on his piece of shit horse waving his sword around like a total piece of shit and I remember I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

So that’s another reason besides the obvious that it’s nice to see Cal beat USC. That and USC being #3 in the country. And the fact that I hate USC. Even though my Dad went there. But he doesn’t really give a shit about football, honestly, the Trojans could be playing in the rose bowl on new years day and I’ll be like “hey dad, so you think SC’s gonna do it today?” and he’ll be like “whut? Are they playing?” serially. Serially, serially serially. That is part of the reason why I wasn’t even much of a sports fan until I went to college and my homeboy got me all in to going to Cal games and watching them kick arse and ya dig Mike Pawlaski or whatever his name was was their QB and they went to the Citrus bowl and beat Clemson’s ass, so um, that was a good initiation and like vestibulary for become a serious whatever the hell I am.

So yeah so the jurk storr is on their way over here to tell me how much this post sucks ass but I have this weird feeling that I will tell them that the ocean called and they’re all out of shrimp.

So yeah so I got a tuneup on my motorcycle today and a new back tire so like if you don’t watch out I might show up at your grandma’s house and set the front lawn on fire, cuz you know all dudes that ride are like dangerous, like Michael Jackson style, like, seriously, you’ll be hurting.

I just made water for Wacko. Wacko, as you know, if you pay any attention, and shame on you if you don’t, is our goldfish, and jesus age christ, he is a genius I think. The reason in my fair opinion, that he has lived all this time is that he eats all the food you give him, even if it falls to the bottom, and that my friends, is muthafuckin gangsta.

When I say I made water for Wacko it means that I put water in a jar and put like a drop of this chemical shit in there and I gotta wait like an hour and then switch him to that water and then clean his bowl and then pour him and the water back in that bowl and then he’s really happy cuz he has clean water. It’s basically a win-win situation for all parties involved.

I don’t think I told you that we have an avacado tree in our back yard. How the hell do you spell avocado anyway? Oh that’s how you do it. See sometimes bill gates can be helpful. If it’s not underlined you know you did it right. Thanks bill, I take back that whole jump off your balcony thing. Thanks for like monopolizing all of computerology and basically raping us all out of our hard earned duckets.

Go raiders.