Saturday, March 13, 2004


>Well, the Memphis grizzlies won their 7th game in a row yesterday.

Unfortunately it was at the expense of the always heroic yet rarely victorious los angeles clippers.

Que lastima. What makes it more humiliating is that I had a little bet going with muscle68 over it, and, well, it is apparent on which end of this bargain I emerged.

Ps: fuck elvis.

Uh, where was I? Oh yeah, singing the praises of the Memphis grizzlies. I gotta say, that for a team from a one horse cowtown full of hicks and rednecks, they’ve got a semi-coherent and decent basketball team, led by on octagenarian with an unparalleled vision of basketball viscosity.

But fuck em anyway.

I mean, yeah, they’re the greatest.

Fuck elvis, though, he sucked. Seriously.

The grizz, though, great team.

For me to poop on.

Aloha.



Friday, March 12, 2004




Extreme radio is rotting my fucking brain. All cuz I’m too lazy to get up and change cd’s more often than koala bears sleeping patterns. Uh, shit, yah, that makes a load of sense. Crap crop crip, lemme do my walk, beyatch, all up in the bizzle with a swizzle stick of dolloppy goodness, ya dig? It’s cool if you don’t, ain’t no haters just debaters, whut with all these issues going down in the capital. Which one? Shit, playa, all of ‘em.

There are a few songs which are just so overplayed that in all equality they should never, ever, under any circumstances, be played again. At least not on this island, shit, not on this fucking planet. They include but are not limited to: “right thurrr” by chingy, um, that “urrybody in the club get tipsy” song. Oh, holy shit, seriously, not joking, right after I typed that, the song just started up. I’m not… fucking… kidding. Jay kwan or some shit like that. fuck. fuck a duck. Fuck a serious duck in its serious ass. These two songs need to be outlawed ASAP. Also that lil jon or whatever song where he says her ass is as fat as billy ocean. Or something like that. fuck, ok, I’m putting a cd on. Hold on. Yah, hold, fuck, whatever, fuck, shit, fuck.

Aaahh. Def leppard. This I can work with. I can, like, I don’t know, vibe on it, and not think about how I’ve heard it 85 fucking times in the last motherfucking half hour, yes, imagine an alternative dimension where this was possible, because I think I’ve found it.

This is just a bunch of crap. Strait into the shredder with it. it’s so reminiscent of earlier efforts. Not mysterious in the slightest. Carries with it not a shred of jene say kwah. Total horseshit. But, shit, no, not ragging, ok, it’s fine, really, no, don’t say that, fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck.

I used to sit and watch video one and those OLD skool, pre-mtv, network television video awards shows, just to see the def leppard video. I believe it was “foolin” and they had the one for “photograph” and, shit, I would just sit there and suffer through boy george and rod stewart and rod stewart and billy joel and, ah, shit, that was kinda rock star. I just like accidentally dumped water on my desk and subsequently threw a tantrum and threw shit all over the place. I must be cool. Wait, lemme check. Oh, hmm, sorry, no.

I was gonna add in something about how cool it would be if you could have the def leppard from 1983 travel in time to the present times and meet the modern def leppard and then watch them kick the living fuck out of their modern day incarnation for being such a bunch of fucking pussies. I’d order it on pay-per-view. The funny thing is, steamin steve clark would probably be more happy than sad that he drank himself to death, at least he didn’t have to see this modern day travesty version of himself and could rag on the other guys while they’re kneeing the one armed rick allen in the balls.

But, in retrospect, saying something like that kind of deteriorates from the tightly-knit theme of the post as a whole, so I’ll tell em to chop it in the editing room.





Thursday, March 11, 2004




well then and hello. Yeah, you. yes, indeed. This special message, care of jurkstorr international enterprises, is just for you, and only you, the extreme specialness that you should be feeling is probably within the range of approximately 83 million astromedallions, and if you don’t have a converter card on you, let me tell you, and you can trust me, cuz I’ve been in this business God knows how long, that that is a really good number, one you can take to the bank.



Wednesday, March 10, 2004


jeez, what a fukn pussy.

guess i shouldn't say that.

So, like, seinfeld is the best show ever.

And, uh, the jurk storr called.

I have this technique of like, when I’m avoiding the gym, to do pushups and situps every half hour. That’s why I’m the fine physical specimen you don’t see before yourself this evening.

Fuck a comment. I’m thinking about dismissing them altogether. Let me know what you think of this idea in the comments. Or not. Whatevs.

Crown royal is a seriously quality drink. I’d like to buy the makers of that mark a, um, drink. Hmmm, repetitiveness is apparently not an art.

I’m pretty sure I’ve seen every episode, of seinfeld that is, but sometimes, I think I see one I’ve never seen, but usually, shortly thereafter, I come to my senses, and realize, I’m retarded, and then, I think, I use way too many commas on a regular basis. But it’s cool, you see, because Microsoft doesn’t detect it. What’s that guy’s name? That seattle guy. Ah, fuck him anyway.

So like, are the cal bears gonna make the ncaa’s or what? I think they need to win the pac-10 tourney. Ditto for the bows. Except it’s the WAC tourney. Yah, you know you’re interested. As in, deeply.

Wanted is an incredible comic. Maybe the most fascinating thing since the watchmen. Aka the best comic ever. That and dark knight. I’ve said this before. You don’t care. Whatever.

Hmmm. Am I possibly an addict to the um thrill of writing random dogshit. Affirmative would not be a negative comment in this regard. Whatevs. Fuck it. Over it. Aloha.

Fuck friends. The show, not my actual friends. Or your friends. Well, maybe, yah, fuck your friends. Fuck it, I don’t know them. They might be a bunch of assholes. Fuck em then. As for the show, fuck it, it sucks, it’s horrible, even though I used to and still do on occasion watch it. Yah I’m a hypocrite like that. Deal.

Go clippers.



Yo yo I don’t know whut I’m gonna type until it shows up on the screen, yo. It’s like that and that’s the way it is. Copyright whoever the fuck came up with that line. It’s old skool, but if you think I’m wasting my valuable time looking that shit up than you snorted more crack than what was originally intended by those various agencies miking your phones and setting up shop in your cribs. Ya dig? Werd.

So yah, so the jurk storr, nah, nah, fuck the jurk storr, this ain’t that kind of shit, I wanna get on some real shit, like, let you know whut the fuck is up with the scene, the kinda mood I’m in, I couldn’t give you any less and still face myself in the morning, the sad or maybe glad thing being that no matter what goes down I’m still gonna look at that reflection, smile, and think, shit, gangsta, ya dig? Fuck it if you don’t. I don’t give a... ah shit, that’s a given. No editing, no eggs, no bacon, no milk in the scene, none of that sellout shit, no Vaseline, ya dig? We’re just like, werking it, twerking it, fukn hot boy slash girl style, whatevs, whatever’s clever, ya dig? It’s cool.

Wellie wellie wellie motherfucking well. This will be the post that like 85 astromedallion amount of other fools link too, including, prolly, instapundit, cuz it’s, like, seriously, breaking news, yah, call me a sellout, right now, holler that shit, Alfred keith joe asshole malone is a motherfucking sellout for linking the pundit, but fuck that, he’s got good info, and it’s, like, yah, like he’s really gonna link that crap anyway, fuck, ya dig, I could link his ass like 86 or 87 astromedallion equivalent amount of times and he still wouldn’t give even the smallest flying fuck, so it’s all good in the hood.

The state of the radio industry on the island of oahu is a fukn disgrace. But the problem, the real ish, is that outer island, specially the big island, it’s like, a billion times worse. Pertinent info. And yah, I use that line all the time. Deal with it America and associated shores.

I’m really wishing that like the jurk storr would return my calls at this hour cuz serially there’s some like shit that needs to be done like my mental getting adjusted properly to equip it for the day and age associated capacities that are, shit, right down the road if you look at it in the right fashion and trend, shit, I don’t know, yah, it’s all dogshit anyway, so whatevs.

There’s one thing, yes, my peeps, one thing, that I wanted to impart, and that is, whatever you do, no, fuck that, whatever, shit, fuck that too. Let me start over. There is a certain jene say kwah about being passionate about that which you do. Not saying that that is the case for me OR you, but in any event, not telling you change your life to wrap around this ideal, cuz I sure as hell won’t, but be aware of it’s wherewithalls, in that, shit, if you are into the shit, and study the shit, and DO the shit, that you are like fully and completely aligned with both mentally and metaphysically, then, well, you’ll be stoked that much more when it’s time to get up at whatever AM and hit the road and start kickin in duckets for the man, whoever he is.

Right on. Can’t figure out a good way to end this crap, so I’ll just say, um, people of the blogosphere, be good to each other, played out idea as it may be, it’s still applicable, and ain't shit entity or whatevs that can stop me from propogating that ideal up in this piece, and if there is, well, shit, bring it and bring it right. WORD.



Monday, March 08, 2004


holy shit the clippers won.

And no, actually they did not JUST win, they TROUNCED.

Trounced them like little hoes on Tuesday. Or Thursday.

You know, the days when whut the man be out, to take ya to that pen.

From the la times:


The Trail Blazers, who were playing their fourth game in five nights, have lost five of six and were without leading scorer and rebounder Zach Randolph.

The NBA suspended Randolph for one game after Randolph swung at Raja Bell of the Utah Jazz in Saturday night's 91-70 Portland victory.

But the slumping Clippers needed a victory over anybody.

They'd lost six of seven, 11 of 14 and hadn't defeated a Western Conference opponent since Jan. 23, when they beat the Jazz, 93-82.



Haha. The clippers really suck.

i like the emphasis on anybody. it has such a jene say kwah of excellence. like a sweet bitter wine in the early evening.