Thursday, November 02, 2006



Time in its bitter pill extrav seems to be pulling like the tide that the prince wanted whut to wack, so I gots to blab blabs atcha and drink tab cola. Nah, I don’t. well, the clips lost last nite. I’ll say no more, leave it for the grand reopening of the other joint which’ll prolly nevuh happen. Let’s see, what’s some deep thought shit I could spit? About ka-zar and shazam and allie mcbeal all meeting in a dimly lit underground (literally) bar with dollar bills thumbtacked to the ceiling? Nah, it’s all too vague, no one would believe it, or, even worse, be the slightest bit interested. Civil war, the comic, not the actual historical event, continues to amuse me, despite the obvious hackitude and crapiness of it, although the art in the main rag is pretty good. Fuck, I’m sorry, the two people that like clips and comics are even pissed off, prolly even more so than you, the reader, the person who, shit, I know, but I don’t know, you know, or you don’t. it’s really, just, it’s really just, it’s really unjust.

boomboxboner

verdad

did anybody rock the cane style mic like wink martindale? methinks not, but meknowst (knownst?) that anything is possible, but goldang that's a hard look to master, i mean, there's foohs in boe ties and rasberry berets having better times of fashion fo paws than whats wit if your hand is a solid foot from your mouth and your blabblin about hold that tiger or whammy no whammy. serially.