Thursday, November 04, 2004

wellie wellie wellie well, as you know, well, as you must know, I mean, it would be ludicrously ridiculous if you didn’t, the clippers are now 1-0 and in first place in the whole nba. I mean, can you argue with any type of clarity that any team in the league is better than them? I mean, even if a team was 2-0 or 3-0 I mean, is that any better than 1-0? I mean, they only aren’t 82-0 cuz they haven’t had the opportunities yet. This is the best clipper team of all time, which, granted, is prolly not saying much, but they have an excellent chance, I mean, all they have to do is continue on with what they are doing, and I really think they could go undefeated in the regular season, sweep through the playoffs, and be the new NBA champs just in time for Wapner.

In other news, if you have ever purchased parts from checker auto parts or Schuck’s auto supply or Kragen, all owned and operated by the same corporate conglomerate I believe, and you never internetted out prior to going & purchasing parts from there, well, my friend, you’ve been getting reamed. Click on this link and find a new world of discounted auto parts. You just find the part, print out the page, and count the savings. It’s really unbelievable. On some stuff you save over 50% off the price you’d get if you just walked in the store and bought the shit. I’ve talked to actual mechanics that don’t know about this shit. The pricing is better than so-called “mechanics pricing” which they give foolios that think they got the inside track. It’s just insanely relevant. To everything.

I think I’ve said it before, but you really should be checking out MC Chris. He’s the voice on some of your fave characters in some of your fave cartoons. And not Scooby doo. Or, uh, the smurfs. Like newer raunchier shit like those guys whut live under the ocean and make pirate radio & fall in love with inverted mops. Anyhoo, the focus seems to be warbling. Aloha for now.

Oh yah, it’s not a mistake that I’m not talking about the election and said results. Fuck it already. Spilled milk and the tears thereof ain’t my specialty. I’ll stick to the jurk storr & space ghost. Chuuuuch.

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

sooo, I wuz listening to nwa and then, uh, I was here, and, kool keith was playing on the hi-fi, and then I heard a weird sound, coming from outside, and I inspected the scene, and it was nothing to be concerned about, and then the, no, I won’t tell you, it’s too, well, you know, I think you really do, and, oh yah, I just remembered something I have to, no, you don’t need to know that, that’s too much information, ok, this though, I can say, with full confidence that it won’t seem, well, you know, indicative of any kind of ego on my part or act therewith to try to like propogate myself into your sentry’s zone. See that, I was thinking about saying “into your zone” but then I realized that, besides the fact that it doesn’t sound right, it just doesn’t convey the same kind of authority wherewith it would be if it was in your sentry’s zone, cuz then, it’s like, well, your ready for this kind of shit, ya know? I mean, it’s only in the area of the people that guard you, you know, it’s like their full time job to make sure that shit is copacetic with YOU, cuz it’s all about you, ya know? In every way shape form, it’s like, the be all and the end all, you steer your ship with your breeze with maybe gilligan riding the pine and then getting in shifts here & there steering you into murky waters, you know, like those subset of denizens of this planet what which affect your life and or the lives, wait, no, not and or, but and, the lives of those around you, cuz it’s all about the individual, numero uno, but it’s not, it can be, but it makes it worse to see that as the forefront of the ideologue of life of which hopefully, no, not that, not hopefully, to which in certain events and judgment notwithstanding, will be guidelines, what with in that you careen in and out with people in your lives, be they friends, family, loved ones of any kind and hated enemies and casual aquaitances and all these people have a certain degree of an impact, I mean, even the person just driving down the street who whut with didn’t know you in the millisecond until he/she looked over and they were like crashing their car into you. You know? I mean, even if you don’t die and/or get seriously hurt, it’s like, that person had an effect, you’ll remember that shit. I’m thinking that this shit is too retarded to live. Not me, this, don’t take it like that, you know, in fact, don’t take it like anything. Please. Seriously, and just to parrot, nah, fuck that shit. Assalamalakum.

I posted some political shite over here like, 5 minutes ago.

Go vote if you ain’t already.


Monday, November 01, 2004

Howdy boys & girls. Well, Halloween was the typical non entity that it always seems to be for me, no fault lying with anyone besides mine own humble self. For some reason, even though I'm like "oh, halloween's coming up" and then I'm like "ooh, I'mma dress up this year and have a whole dillio," of "let's go out & party & get bizzy with izzy and etcetera acres" yet the reality always dawns like an undead soldier down with his own struggle, and the end all of the be all existentially comes into play with me chillin like a villain and waiting for trick or treaters that never come & sippin on an ice cold bourbon, and you know whut? You ain't gonna hear a single solitary complaint from this department, cuz at least for this year, and how downtown Julie brown ie goodie mob steelo it was kickin it like chicken with my homegirl mrs. P, it was like a prism existing within an octagonal diode of massively crystallized energy, but making the equivalent of 83 billion astromedallions of karma points with the simple act of lounging like a lizard, especially in light of the never dormant fact that we finally got around to trimming that tree whut was hanging over into the neighbor's yard. Ya heard?

In other news, this is a fascinating article on how in the world ever Gwen Stacy could possibly do the wild thing with the green goblin. It just seems inconceivable, unbelievable, and any other number of words that Kramer's lawyer from Seinfeld could come up with. You get my drift, I'm sure. Imagine your greatest enemy boning down on your main girl and then throw in addition to the pot you never got to hit it and then he comes in with the coup de grace and kills her after she secretly goes to Europe and has his bastard children, AND later they come after you thinking you're their dad & that you like ditched them and fucked their whole lives up and screwed over their mom. It might make you a little bummed out. But then you could go crawl around on a wall and swing on a web and spider sense out if there was like a really giant bottle of booze in the vicinity so that might vindicate matters slightly. Not much, though, I'd think.

Sunday, October 31, 2004

"It is real simple -- we are not a good football team."