Friday, February 06, 2004
The phobia was always the same. No one but myself understood it.
It was the dread that there was an insufficient supply of random blatant crap in the world.
The only thing that could ever make me feel better during one of these attacks was a jar of wheat germ and a tall glass of ovaltine.
I don’t think they were expecting me, however, to take said gold star, hurl it through the air, and whistle for aforementioned dog (the one with the issues ie trials, etc.) to run & fetch it and then bury it in an undisclosed location where hopefully they’ll never find it. ever.
But if they do, and they bring it back to me within 83 days, and there’s not an over amount of damage, then there has been a pre-arranged agreement that I have to be their butler for a couple weeks.
So I’ll keep you posted.
Thursday, February 05, 2004
howzit going? I’m aight. Copacetic. The digiscope is at yellow which means no major problems percolating what with the control panel in stasis.
So yah, I know, um, ok, well, yah, I don’t.
Kool Keith is really a fantastic rapper. Arrgghh, that’s such a typical thing to say. Remind me to erase it.
Anyone who can guess what movie my new comments dillio is from will win 72 astro-medallions. And if you are one of the people that know I know that you know, ie, old skool central, don’t answer and ruin it for everybody.
Cuz everybody’s really excited about it. shah heebie.
Paul Barman is pretty good too.
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
If this ever happens to you, which it did to me, go by my example and take it to heart but then ignore it anyway, cuz playa hatas can propogate and bill gates can churn out crap but nobody combines those elements like yours truly and of that one central idea I am supremely confident.
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
One thing you have to know is that if and when the jurk storr calls you HAVE to be ready. They’ll probably ask you a whole bunch of complicated questions involving certain aspects of the tribal traditions of certain new guinian localities and the secret to passing this test of sorts is to just pretend that you know every possible thing about whatever they may be talking about, even to the point of strait up actin like a third guard substitute and possibly even lying well in fact not possibly certainly lying like a stuck turtle around thanksgiving time, on whether or not your feet are green or fuchsia.
One of the things you need to believe in order to survey the three sacred moonstones is one be a pepper two don’t forget your ovaltine and three always give a hoot. If smokey even says anything about not having done it on a rock or like down by the bay don’t even accept for even one second in any way shape or form the argument he or she may be making, cuz trust me on this one they're fuller of shit than a kettle full of homemade popcorn.
Hmmm, I was gonna make this one mean a lot, too, cuz, shit, taking up dry space is just so 1982.
And fuck Nebraska too. I hope they lose every fucking game this year with that dumb piece of shit as their head coach. Fuck corn & fuck huskers while I’m at it.
And fuck al davis for hiring norv turner who couldn’t traverse his way through a game of tiddly winks without second thoughts and third guesses and just well, I wish I could hate the raiders but I love them, I’m just stupid like that, so I’m gonna suffer through another idiotic season of decrepitude. Whatever the fuck that is.
And, we are officially stopping the sports talk. And for our next topic, orangatun tendencies in the wild serenghetti plains. Disregard the fact that this species has never set foot with said giraffes, we will go over that part later.
Monday, February 02, 2004
buffalo braves, aka the original incarnation of the los angeles clippers, otherwise known as the ultimate team in basketball and/or any other sport. If by your definition of ultimate you mean fans show up to games with bags over their heads in shame and degradation. Gyeah, that’s whut I call ultimate, fuck’n shit, you know, success and victory are sooooo overrated in sports. Ferreal.
Ooohhhh wheee, this is fascinating as hell as well, the official buffalo braves RETRO home page, ah HA!!! Good use of a key word to avoid lawsuits. Hellz yeah. Jesus Christ I could read about the bufallo braves all goddamm day. and you think I’m joking.
I have to warn you. it’s so interesting you might explode. You smell sarcasm, but you are mistaken, I’m telling you seriously, maybe it’s that bacon you left on the skillet in the backyard. Check yo self befo you reck yo self. BeyATCH.
Clips playing the Atlanta hawks right now.
How ‘bout we say fuck it, buck history, and get a win? Why the FUCK not, yah?
Normally I’d put this at clipper, but as you can see from the verbage and pacing of the phrases and overall excellence factor, I spent roughly 93 hours writing it, so I want the massive astro-medallion factor to have more of a positive effect and spread the word on the relevance inspired herein.
And, well, I know that you don’t care, and I know you know I know you don’t care, but trust me on this one and click the link or um, continue reading, cuz there’s like some weird interesting like what the hell things regarding this game.
First off, it was in Atlanta, home of the spookily-empty NBA arena:
The announced attendance was 8,508, but the crowd appeared to be no more 2,500 on a cold, rainy night in Atlanta…. "It was really strange,'' the Clippers guard (Eddie House - kk) said. "I haven't see a crowd that small since -- well, not even in college.''
And not to mention (ok, to mention) Stephen Jackson’s (you might remember him as the journeyman starting guard for the world champ spurs last season that decided at the ultimately wrong time to turn down a multi-million dollar re-up) bizarre rant at the media:
"Why don't you guys just watch the game and answer your own questions?'' Jackson said. "We say the same thing every night.''
Nice! Ok, you prolly don’t have to click the link. That was the interesting stuff. At least to me. And my imaginary friend in my throat, who, dammit, I can never remember his name.
Oh, and in case you didn’t notice, the lakers (aka the team of shaq-fuck-you) lost tonite. Who’s the real LA team? Yah bitch! Um, ok, bye.
Ok, one final note: is there a better movie than beverly hills cop? I mean, really. You gotta love Damon Wayans' bit role as the guy that sneaks the free bananas to eddie Murphy for use in the classic banana in the tale pipe scenario. Yah. Ok, that’s it for me. Aloha.
Hmmmm dee homina de hominy. In typical jurk storr style I wanna, really really wanna, say a whole whole lot without saying anything. Like, you feel like this seriously deep thoughtful life-impacting jene say kwah type shit but you have no idea if you just imagined it or were possibly smoking crack or having like an out of body experience or I don’t even know the fuck whut. However which way it works for you.
My desires reference said diatribe do not involve however a blatant attempt to be some kind of cutting edge hog status aka not your average joe for rebellious anarchistic whathimacallit. Which, fukc, is unavoidable in the search for ulterior status, so fuck stressing about it.
Super duper otherworldly, not what you’re expecting, not what you want, but strangely what satisfies. Like the fake shit that's too real. Gotta get back to that. looking back the best shit I’ve ever written was layered with the most extreme truths interspersed with the most stankinest bullshit.
Maybe it’s ok to erase sometimes, ok to just be there and do that and go there and see the moon and the sun and there doesn’t have to be any definition any answer, just it being in its spot wherever that is. I wonder, wait, nah, I know, wait, no, yeah, I question but at the same time I don’t care.
It is what it is but at the same time it isn’t.