Thursday, May 06, 2004
Tuesday, May 04, 2004
So, uh, yeup, hmmm, new word, yeup, ye best be up on your scribaries of paper chasin, son, if you expect to be advanced to the next level of Brandon-ness with a minimal amount of lack of expediency.
Now that is that which should never have been ordained, not that it was, I mean, by any authoritative entity like keeping regulations regulated, but, in a way, it was, by me, but who am I? What right do I have to ordain anything in any way shape or form? I’m no demigod, not even a faithful servant, although I try to walk the semi-righteous path, but how dare I, a human faced with his own humanity, even sum up half the cojones to even come up with such a mad scheme as actually uttering that utterance. It’s unfounded, unnecessary, irregardless, and completely tantamount to everything this cased is NOT supposed to be about. So on to new business.
It’s funny how discerning I can be of that which is witchitawed in way shape form styles up in that which should not be mentioned but yet at the same time how completely haphazard can be the customization schedule by which half the artistic plagues are enacted, and if you understand half of that please drop me a line to explain it to me.
By that which of you that thought I would say that it would be greatly appreciated, thank you and yes it is, but that isn’t what I wanted to impart, what I wanted to get across is, just think about it, if moses spread the great red sea and little jack frost spreads his peanut butter and little kids everywhere spread all kinds of germs on every populace from here to Nantucket, think of the almost herculanean odds which might bring about you to have any of the number of items that catalog themselves through your medulla oblongata with alarming regularity.
Monday, May 03, 2004
And furthermore, just to clarify a point that I wasn’t making earlier, I have no ending for this sentence. At least not one that doesn’t make you wanna say whoah, speaking of which I was flipping through old magazines and wondering whatever happened to g-dep, not that he’s black rob, but you get the picture. The boob tube likes shoveling the latest it thang down our collective throats, and if there’s even a semblance of the appearance of any form of discernible digestion of said pop-oids going on, they keep jamming it in until it hurts, and finally throw that bad boy for “life” on the latest charnal heap of burning effigies and look for the new posterchild for that dollar sign blazing in the sky, just off the horizon, hovering over that old decrepit outdated bat signal.