Thursday, September 15, 2005
Well new york, atlantic city, and don’t forget exton goddamm Pennsylvania, were all quite the effin bomb. Well, exton may not have been THAT incredibly cool, but the event of which why were there more than made up for it, and the countryside is very nice and scenic and of beauteaousness, even when you’re getting ass lost like a country bumkin innit.
But getting lost is part of the fun, right? Nah, not really. Getting lost basically sucks, unless you get lost in like some super crazy slum and all of a sudden you emerge from this back alley and you’re in candyland, and your best friend gets to be the gingerbread man forever. In THAT situation, ok, yah, I getcha.
I didn’t pick up any new astromedallions from the charming vendors of that fair city by the river, and the other river, and the other river, but if you put me on a scale you’d be like, shit, homey picked up a brand new 7 pound astromedallion, and you’d be so right and so wrong. That’s why the jokes on you jack, but the jokes on me. But I wouldn’t change a thing, except for maybe that one blackjack table. But if I did that, who knows if I ever would have sat at the other 50? And that, my friends, is why Christmas is the work of the devil.