Posted 1:40 PM by Alfred

can I just say something? I got a lot of shit to do. But it’s all good, cuz I’m gonna be in vega$ in a couple days, nah mean, so, like, you can’t get my shit down, nosirreebobskee, so like, fuck a duck and all that shit, so werd to officer bird, so big ups to woodsy owl & the crew, and as for smokey the bear, you know whut’s up, playboy, good lookin’ out.

If you’re at the stardust waiting in line for the wayne Newton show and out of the corner of your eye you catch this like really playalistic looking cool kind of fella with an old skool San Diego clippers shirt on with bright blue white striped skechers on it’s not me it’s my stunt double megatron 7. he’s a robot, and a cop, but don’t call him Robocop, cuz nothing pisses him off more.

I’m betting on red for Darren & black for anti (cuz Wesley Snipes said) and, well, basically my bases should be covered. But fuck covering bases, put it all on purple. What, there’s no purple? Well fuck this place then. And then I’m gonna grab all the chips and throw them in the air like Sharon Stone in Casino and Sam Rothstein will just look at me in fascination and wonder and I’ll walk out the front door with this shit eating grin on my face & music will be playing and the roulette wheel guy will be like “shit, that crazy kid” and everyone will love me and I’ll be almost as famous as that damn Pringles backup dancer that haunts me with his big time bravado.

Sadly, however, reality will set in quite violently as I wake up out front with my skull bashed in and blood trickling down my face and Japanese tourists looking down at me and laughing at my ineptitude & idiocy, cuz, ya know, Vegas don’t fuck around.

But, then again, neither do I. Except on Tuesdays & Thursdays. Beyatch.

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