Thursday, March 17, 2005

Whut the fuck chuck. I gotta tell you, wait, no I don’t, fuck that, but serially, in like the next 83 astromedallions or so, I’m goin on a journey, both metaphorical & literal, that’s gonna take me somewhere, not sure where, that’s the booty of it, I mean the beauty, and, well, I’mma write a bunch of shit about it as it’s happening and like be an on-call correspondent working for like either nobody or some giant corp or like the save the whale foundation, whoever pays the most, packs the best mood enhancers, or hooks up the best seats on the plane train auto whatever may have you best way to get to the various spots. And when this whole dillio kicks in I’ll try to remember to fill you in with the etceteravilles of it and like drop some grains of salt that isn’t included in the standard edition, cuz that’s the way I do, you know, bits here, bits there, diff peeps get diff info & exclusives percolatin, but then depending on my mood I might be fuck that and just do the standard dispensation right down the line, but, nah, no I won’t. fuck, I don’t know.

the john stakes diary

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

I was pretty damn ripped the other night and got delving into the master thesis, just started tearing away at it, not in a destruction type manner, but just the opposite, building, dig, and just slamming werd on top of werd on to that shit, and kinda brought back an old character that I’d been considering swinging back in and I did it in a way I hadn’t thought of before, well, anyway, I read that shit last nite and it was like reading something that someone else had wrote, and I liked it, and it made me happy, I think that’s the ultimate feeling, well, except for like bustin a grapenut, but like, within the realms of literature. Or not, fuck I don’t know. You know whutsup, the minnitt I think I might actually be fukn saying something I run for the hills and hide. At least in this shit. But when it comes to the master thesis, shit, I’m fukn fearless, something about knowing that noone’s gonna read it within a set period of time if not ever, and if they do I can always throw my hand’s up and be like “shit, holmes, it just a story” not that I can’t do that with this shit, but it’s different, the immediacy, fuck, I dunno, monsignor.

Monday, March 14, 2005

oooh wheee did I feel like shit yesterday. Don’t ask. Anyhoo, I could really go for some properly cooked scambled eggs right now. Mmm diggetty. With some hot sauce and green onions and portuegese sausage, and, shit, you know the drill.

By the way fuck aloha airlines with a rusty screwdriver. Phillips. Um, so, you’re telling me that you cancel a fukn flight and then it takes up to 10 business days to get my money back. Now let’s just assume that I wasn’t a good credit type person who could charge it up silkk the shocker style and that I actually had to wait 10 days until I had these funds to purchase another plane ticket, which I used to actually be, and then let’s also examine the 10 days worth of interest I will be accumulating on my credit card, and well, you don’t care.

Trust that it will all be mentioned in an angry letter that some lackey will read and stamp and throw in the circular file never to be seen or heard from again. Lots of aloha there. TONS.