Friday, April 30, 2004
FUCK! serially, I cannot stop reading his hobgoblin dillio. It’s blowing my mind into even more smithereens of elvis presleyisms. Anyway, fuck, I don’t know, it’s just like, wait, I do know, the thing is is that I really thought that ned leeds was the hobgoblin, I have been misinformed, and this man explains it all, in so much depth, which I think I mentioned already, but with equal if not greater clarity.
ANYWAY- that’s all I have to say about that if you are interested go read it and soak in the salty brays of all it portrays.
Moving on – ah yes, precisely, moving day, moving localities if not principalities, but new way new spot new digs new deal new yet so all the good shit that we’ve come to expect from this enterprise in general, and expansion of life ports in such a fashion as to facilitate more opportunistic endeavors not only in the near future but longterm chronological wherewithalls, increased dollar clockage whereby investment in self rather than others’ (yet, also others, c’mon, let’s be realistic) vault fathoms.
Yup, so envelope that into your membrain at whatever speed and/or capacity seems appropriate at the time of digestion, and be one with the force. that singular escapade, while not as important as drinking a proportional amount of ovaltine for daily physical activity, is still a founding building block of the cornerstone of our society, at least that's what diana prince said while she was spinning around to dry some towels that fukn whatshisass steve trevor had left out by the briny bay of nantucket creek. there, is that 40 fukn bars yet? shit, where's my $80,000?
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
I know this is that which should never ought to be admitted, but I watched American Idol last night, and can I please say, can you never, ever, EVER, under any circumstances, EVER, do that subway skit thing again where they’re all workers making sandwiches and it’s bad enough, enough to make you almost barf, and then that little fucking girl takes the sandwich from George Huff (huff, huff) and there’s like some hackneyed buzzsaw effect, and the OH SO FUCKING CUTE (sarcasm alert) is like “oh, hee hee, I’m finished.”
So the rule regarding not overdoing it about sports has just been superceded by the talking too in depth about dogshit pop culture celebrity bullshit, so back to sports I might as well depart for the nonce. Ok, nba playoffs. First round has sucked serious ass, with the exception of that lil Miami/new Orleans series featuring none other than your former la clipper lamar odom. The guy that Donald Sterling said he would “always” pay “no matter what” even though I make “no guarantee” that the words I’m putting into quotes were “actually said” and yes I’m “copying” chris farley the most “legendary” comedian ever at least for um “fat” guys, no, not true, he was up there in any echelon when on his specified moment. Shit. that just got me all bummed out. But anyway, back to the nba playoffs.
Who cares about Miami cuz they’ll lose to whoever, um, it’s all about the west is best. Domination city, and the teams with a shot in the west are: lakers, spurs, timberwolves. That’s it. sorry sacramento ain’t gonna happen no matter how bad you beat up on dallas. C-Webb just does not have the balls to carry a team when necessary and he’s fucking up their chemistry, but, shit, I don’t know, they can’t beat any of the first three teams I said. Well, maybe Minnesota, but you know whut? I think t-wolves win it all, I’m gonna jump on hunter thompson’s bandwagon and pick em.
Nah but fuck that. fuck that shit. lakers all the way. Nah, fuck the lakers. Seriously though, I think garnett has got his swerve on right now, and shit, sprewell and whats his ass – the alien looking guy whut hit all those crazy threes with Houston back in the day with the dream ruling the court like a rulon - Yah, cassell, and sam, not howard, and he don’t smoke a cigar. At least not whut I know of. So yah, so, fuck I don’t really know what the fuck I’m saying.
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
Hmmm dee doo. Well, that might JUST be all I have to say for right now. Or not. Fuck, we’ll just have to see whut happens, don’t make it too long, cuz that scares people off, not that I need people here, no in fact I do not, hey you, get out, yo mama misses you from last Christmas whut with that left handed guitar you always be strummin’.
There MIGHT be more on the menu, but I’ve got a check with the three caballeros, you know, those fellers whut with bring you hot chips & salsa for your orderves.