Tuesday, August 03, 2004

good morning, all mein freundes. It is a wonderful day, if only for the sole reason that you get to hear my immortal words of wisdom. But no, alas, my ego does not allow for such pontifications, despite my id’s protestations, so let me now degrade myself by rubbing my head in a puddle of mud, in the typical fashion of an early 90’s rock star, shining in my unknowable knowledge of self, inflicted with the angst and wonder of an aging icon. Depending on the size of your gat, let me know how that digests with your in-n-out burger, chief, cuz you and I both know that the izms I speak are both disposable and irreplaceable. They are what they are and no more, no less. Not even the medium level of haphazardness will allow you to contain your effervescence upon the acceptance of said information. So don’t even try.

I would show you like the most ill shizzles, but then you’d know that batcave shit, and even if you were like the joker sliding down the batpole and accidentally getting caught up in robin’s uniform, I’d still zap your ass with batgas and like leave you in a field somewhere for the commish to pick up and beat your sorry noggin down with o’hara in the hole, and you know they’d pile on the whuppins when bats wasn’t looking, just like you know about those midnite visits to Julie Newmar from the executive trailer. Don’t act like you don’t.

You know whut’s weird, I’ve only watched one episode, but from what I saw, that meth & red show is actually funny. Which is like 360 degrees, to quote Jason kidd, ok, 180, from what you would think, becuz, I mean, shit, it looks mad shitty. I don’t like officially have tv though so don’t take my werd for it. In fact, I need you to forget all that you have read within the borders of your computer screen this morning, and look at the wall for at least 3 hours, thinking nothing of cornfields and bunny rabbits. Mahalo.