Tuesday, August 10, 2004
To be the man...
You gotta beat the man.
And I sir, am the man.
Or so says Mr. Fisk, hence why he hired me, for mucho bucks.
Like, top dollar style shiat, with signing bonuses and et cetera.
"Hey m68, you = better than KK, aka jurk storr best seller, wanna work for me?"
"Why yes I do senor Fisk, may I call you senor?"
Handshake, signed dotted line, and here I be.
To quote Mr. Fleihr...
So here I am at my desk, fielding jurk storr calls like I'm Khalil Greene of the defending world champion San Diego Maradona Padres, and I have been thinking.
Here I am.
My blog = WCW.
Ultrablognetic = WWF/E
Somebody call my momma.
"Momma, it's me, I made it, I'm big time. I'm hollywood now."
And then she'd hang up.
It's not easy filling a man's shoes, especially when he has bigger feet.
But I'm the new Von Dutch, I'm the new glam rock, I can do anything.
Like velcro© or rubber cement.
Batphone rang and I didn't pick it up and I heard on the news something about an armed robbery but I figger hey, gotta keep the world balanced, can't stop every crime.
That shit has ben going on for years.
Before they even had streets.
How am I, superhero/male model/sex icon/pinacle of the world/New Punk Rock supposed to stop that?
I may be naturally better than you, but it doesn't mean it comes easy.
Doesn't mean it doesn't have a price.
I have to turn down potential bed mates since they aren't 10's.
I don't fuck around with 9's
Or 9 5's
I need perfection.
I've earned it, I deserved it.
I just happen to be a kiss stealin, wheelin, dealin, limousine ridin, jet flyin son of a gun that you know to be WOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! the slickest, I kiss the girls and make 'em cry.
Get over it.
Guest post by Muscle68 and acid is fun, obviously.