Thursday, April 14, 2005
Yo yo. This is the first blogpost from the new notebook. The fastest way to ensure that a blogpost will never make it into the book edition is to reference a blogpost and actually say blog, which if you didn’t know, is a very very dirty word.
I’m watching Saturday night live right now, but it’s neither Saturday night nor live. Fuck. Fuck me. How many people have written those two sentences? At least a billion. I took a poll. Trust me, I’m, fuck, I don’t know, something. Danny Aiello is the host, but you don’t really care.
The only reminder of why I’m saying this is the second most hardcore, well, actually first most depending on what perspective of it you’re looking, that being if you reference something from your referral log.
Hmmm. Coolio is present. This might be a problem. Oh yah, the issue I was gonna say from my referral logs. (no one reads this, why are you here, this is the most unpopular whatever in the bloggersphere, and uh…) yup. So, the wade robeson dillio. What is this guy suddenly doing that he is all over the place, I mean, people are looking for him, on my blog, the third thing you should never say, blog, oh wait, I already said that.
There are two shitzus in the room. I am on my second cup of whiskey soda. By the way, check out chab. Um, what was I gonna say, speaking of which, tim meadows, it seemed, it really seemed, that that lady’s man movie was gonna be funny, but it really wasn’t, it just really wasn’t. why oh why, oh why drink bud dry.
The whiskey wouldn’t even be an issue, and it wouldn’t even be appearing here, where it will never see the light of day in any publication other than floating through a bunch of random airways. I must repeat as well, that no one will ever appreciate it in any artistic sense except for you, and the fact that you might be having said experience is kind of scaring me. Not that you shouldn’t, I know I come correct. Fuck, I didn’t say that, but that, well, it’s blogness. I don’t pretend to think this is going anywhere.
Which begs the question, why post a gigantic overdrawn and extremely overwrought political diatribe, especially when you don’t know what you’re talking about? Jesus fucking Christ, how old does the argument of “hey, let me slop my drivel wherever the case may be and I’ll always have the excuse for my total wrong information based on the fact that I declare it,” no, this is bullshit.
What I was trying to say is that I’m on a diet. Yup. South beach. Again. And it says no alcohol. But it didn’t take into account this day. I was up way too late last night and experience way too much emotional and mental anguish to even be denied the thought of much less the exerience of feeling that sweet bourbon on my lips. Not that I really like it, it’s, um, research wise material. You know what I mean.
Fuck, if I can have one wish can it be that I never type again the words, “you know what I mean?” I mean, it’s such a cop out & a piece of shit. You know what I mean.
Fuck, I have to remember to go to the library. SNL ain’t shit now, it really ain’t. I’m so fucking irrelevant I almost repulse myself.