sometimes even though you want to say something profound, the words just don't come.
me, i do that.
see, here's the deal. i know i've got to finish this shit but instead, as usual, i press my luck to the maximum, to ensure i pull an allnighter and get more stressed. on the other hand, maybe this is what it takes to get me there.
what the fuck. who knows.
anyway, my point in being here is to exercise my right as a citizen simply to write whatever the fuck i feel like. it's a weird concept but ok, no it's not. really, as an exerciser would stretch his muscles before engaging in said hardcore exercise activity, they do a series of stretches and such. get ready for the big one. yo.
and you know that's the way it's gotta be, see.
hee hee hee.
weirder still in that it is a strange mindset to be in, to write...sometimes it comes easy. sometimes it comes hard. or not at all.
it's all a mental mindfuck no matter what way you're feeling.
tricking yourself into something is so kickass. too bad you're also too smart to be fooled by yourself, since, you know yourself and know what tricks you're gonna pull next. we are fucked up beings.
the older i get the weirder i believe this thing called life really is.
i have zits on my neck. i only get them when i cut my hair short. why is that? dammit jim. fucking bullshit.
life is a series of vignettes, taped in front of a studio audience. being an actor is weird. too bad i'm not one.
i never realized how much Al Jazeera and cokehead McCoy have in common. it's an electric circus, i tell you.
nafta is my thing i am unsure about.
has anybody checked out Friendster yet?
it's so fucking addictive, i nearly got addicted.
and that's a bad scene man, bad scene.
being addicted to carcinogens is no laughing matter. unless you're dead. in which case, even a non-laughing matter doesn't exist. but let's save that for another round of pudding, shall we?
did you know elephants are fucking kickass?
did you know my cat, THE Kitty (who should have a website, dammit) is sitting here with me and she's disgusted with your behavior.
at least you have some kidney stones to emit.
my god, at least you have that.
i met a conductor the other day. sometimes people call him maestro. that would be cool to maybe introduce a young hip maestro to the world.
people like reading about people. but in shorter, more concise ways.
short attention spans are everywhere.
i'd love to go whale watching soon.
friendster is pretty funny, i must say.
humans can't seem to concentrate on one thought at a time.
isnt' that strange.
i can't believe that Fleetwood Mac is playing on the Today show this morning.
and they did mountains of coke.
i can move move move any mountain
the shamen were odd.
but you know at least they can move any mountain they want to. at least the singer can. i'm not sure about the programmer dude's capabilities, but fuck him anyway. he doesn't deserve my sympathy or support.
support your local finger salesman.
sorry, salesperson. i'm so inpolitically correct. or is it the other way around?
either way, you have no idea what i'm referring to unless you've seen a ghost anyway.
something that bugs me is enigmas. fucking riddles. can't tell what people are saying or talking about.
runnin' round in circles in the sand.
i like clear noodle.
i like the soft cushion of the pen against a stack of paper while writing. that, my friends, is pure bliss if there ever was such a thing. but i don't think there ever was such a thing.
remember to have soup tomorrow.
rolling in my 650.
can it you nitwit!
nobody but nobody uses nitwit anymore.
chuckwagon dogfood is not very good. even though i've never tasted it, i'm just guessing. taking an educated guess. a hypothesis, if you will.
and you will so much.
my body says yes and my bonnie lies over the ocean.
i'm sort of upset minimally about the new CherryWine album. no, it's not a wine-influenced album.
maybe it is.
i wasn't there during the recording sessions.
however, i will say....cherrywine is the pseudonym of the man formerly known as doodlebug from digable planets, that ultra cool hepcat hip-hop group from the early 90s that rocked balls and fucked shit up for about 2-3 minutes.
yeah, you know how we do.
cherrywine is like, so bad, it's bad bad.
leroy brown bad.
bad is bad like huey lewis and shit.
fudgepickle and all that jazzzzzzzzz
ghosts of the free will society, love you.
somebody left their bottle of Royal Gate vodka on the floor at the library the other day. that saddened me more than some events of the past 2-3 days.
i mean, shit, how can people leave their perfectly good vodka lying about where people can see? it's not only rude, it's practically a crime in one to four states.
there was weirdface glop person there. that's all i can say. if i say more, i fear i may be done for.
and then who would update this website for the 3-5 readers that read it?
oh 3-5 readers, by the way, i am going to make an upgrade within the next year (hopefully within the next 2 months but things can get dicey down at the mill this time of century) to this site.
because i'm worth it.
you're worth it.
we're all worth it together.
thank you for being an antelope.
i've got to get rid of this hairshirt before my dad finds it.
remember to write back to my email - firstname.lastname@example.org
if you know what's good for you.
take me home country roads, to the place where i belong.
west virginia, mountain mama
take me home, country roads.
remember to leave me at home with daniel boone.
fudge, grace and cochlear implants forever,
leggin' it at lincoln