Friday, April 23, 2004


sooo, uh, the jurk storr just called but for real this time. It was someone asking for pat mcgroin, a fictional character we made up to scatter away people calling about bullshit. If you’re asking for pat mcgroin, then we know you’re just a strait up sucka and just fuck wit you like “oh , no , pat’s not here, and they like “oh well I can try her later” and then you say “uh, actually pat’s a guy” and they’re like really uncomfortable and then you just hang the fuck up on em if you really really want to (again, systematically, we can eradicate all frasier-esque anti-lobotomization regulations within this nation and then getting all gretchen grabbenstatter on your ass.

Fuck just cancelled something. I know that’s not allowed. Wait, maybe it should be, quality is tilling the chaff from the grain and allowing the proper item to reach maximum nurturage within the preset boundaries of existing conditions, you still with me? Ok, and then, you like call up the jurk storr cuz you just ran out manure.

That which is necessitating of itself to impart effervescentesque albequrque based shenanigans need not apply, here there or in rabbithole land, aka the other isle’s ok corrall.

Ok seriously, that didn’t mean anything, I seriously don’t wanna offend people in new mexico, my stepgrandmother’s niece was like the slave master Indian from 1834, the only Indian to ever own African slaves, and he was good to them though, I mean, he’d rape a few here & there, but that was like more for looks with the fellas on the real of it, and shit I don’t know what that part’s supposed to mean, whatever it is it probably makes me a total racist but oh well whut can you do? No I mean, I know I’m not, oh, ok, so I am, ok I, wait, no this isn’t translating into the equitable foreseeances we had discussed, this is getting way to medulla oblongatish in its very translation of advanced races like coming down and really laying down the law, like, shit, it’s like, everybody just be cool, just be cool, we all muthafucking up in the strizuggle, but you know that’s bullshit, cuz like whitie’s got it better than anyone statistically not that I ever look at statistics but that’s whut I’ve heard.

I took a statistics class in college, it was yah, purty fuckn good stuff to know but kind of like annoying to have to listen to, and there we’ve reached maximum retardatiional recreations on this one brigade, I think we’ll be, oh, who gives a flying fuck really, it’s just all verbal diarrhea, don’t ask me why you come around here looking for like Vincent van assfrankfurter mcsamuelson askin for a first date with the vicar, I mean you can’t cancel me out & I can’t cancel you out, you’re the evil Michael knight, the one with the mustache, and you DID NOT ride on the miniature children’s train ride that someone worked at in Encino for like one summer and you did NOT ride that train with your little kid & look this innocent worker in the face and not so much from anything that you said, but from the way your eyes met mine, it was like a duel, it was like, someday we were gonna have to face on the field of battle in some locality unbeknownst to half of the cavalry, and nobody will really have even a vague idea of why this supersecret fight in this supersecret location has like 300 people at it and two guys fully decked out in ninja gear and like every known style of kicking ass that you could think of in 85 languages, I’ll match anyone to my genki style, and if that pleases anyone let them be pleased the most with themselves.




teen titans

george perez



Thursday, April 22, 2004




you wanna be real with shit, at the least to yourself

i think it's ok to put on a front, as long as you're not lying to yourself

you know what made me think about that?

pulp fiction, was watching it yesterday

the people that are real to themselves come out aight

like, nobody needs to know about mia od'ing besides vincent & mia



and nobody needs to know about marcellus getting raped besides him & butch

and jules' revelation, i mean, nobody else gets it, but he does

and vincent, who ignores it, (the miracle) goes on to die

it comes down to, everybody has their own self, and nobody really knows it except you

the only one you gotta settle accounts with when the reaper comes is yourself and god, if you believe in him/her

i think it's really interesting in that travolta dies but doesn't die

tarantino almost brings him back to life by fucking with the chronology



and bruce willis

he should be a kinda unsympathetic character

he killed that boxer, and doesn't give a fuck

but we still like him

cuz he's true to himself

and he goes back for dad's watch

that's real

and he goes back and saves Marcellus

risking his own ass for a guy that wants to kill him



Jules is really concerned with being real to himself

getting out of the life, after the "miracle"

but he seems pretty unconcerned when the black guy gets his head blown off in the back of the car, except for the clean-up necessities



it's like, you can only handle you

in a scary way, that's what keeps really sick fucks on track, too

they're like "well, i think it's ok to kill a shitload of people, so carry on"

the secrets aspect of the film is really quite interesting, though

cuz truth, ultimate truth, is bullshit

if you're totally & completely honest with the people in your life

you'll alienate them all

people don't WANT to know everything

but as long as YOU know it

then you're aight


bing

anti



Wednesday, April 21, 2004




can you do me a favor, one fricken favor, I mean, por favor, and remember, just for once in your pathetic life, to drink your goddamm fucking ovaltine? I mean, is that too much to ask? For just a little cooperation on this matter?

I want you to see me as the epitome of the opposite of the best. Like, but in such a positive way, wherein you think it’s negative, strictly the worst ever, and then, shit, it’s like, you realize it’s so fucking good, that, well, your baking instructor will be wondering where that skip in your step came from.

The funny part, well, ok, not, is that you think I’m joking. Or not. Either way, I win. And you can win, too, it’s not mutually exclusive, it’s like, it can be a win-win, or a lose-lose, or a win-lose, whatever’s clever, you know, it’s all relative, but not by blood, by esthetics, and the polarization of that term, like indepth personal stuff, like, the way that a piece of honeydew floats down a wilderness stream right before a grizzly bear attacks it, engorging it all in one bite as it makes the doom oriented journey toward the belly of the beast.



Tuesday, April 20, 2004


hold up I’mma read the sports page.

Did I mention my computer’s all fucked up raight hurrr? Fukn some casino bullshit snuck up in my secret memory and it’s like some dogshit fake ie toolbar installed and it’s small kine pissing me off.

But whatevs, they’ll replace this shit in the next year prolly sounds like. Um, tmi incorporated.

Ya so, shit, um, lemme read this shit, dig? Shizzle.

Hmmm, ok, well, it’s been read. So, umm, shit, interest rates are a pain in the ass aren’t they? Why can’t they just like stay low all the time? At least until it’s economically feasible from my perspective that they be high, and then could they like shoot up at the appropriate time? Gracias.

So, yah, I don’t know, there’s like, so much shit going on and so little shit at the same time, there must be something funky with the space time continuum or some shit like that.

I’ll keep you posted.

Yah, so, still here, just realized I’m like ultra-professional when I have to be. Seriously, you prolly think I’m joking, but it’s oh so true, in fact, I can documentate it.



Monday, April 19, 2004


I’ve got this one bizarre (fat guy from D12 – Eminem’s group) line swimming through my head over & over & over again this morning: “dreams of fucking a handicapped bitch” – can’t remember how the rest of the verse goes. Maybe it’s cuz I’ve been reading wolves of the calla, Stephen king’s fifth installment of the dark tower, like a bastardized rat crapsterpiece on crystal methanphetamines mixed with jolt cola. The other line I can’t seem to shake from my medulla is from the same feller, and goes “gimme this seven thousand, and take these cheeseburgers.”

Ok let’s analyze this. Or not. Or, I got an idea, do a half ass job of it which gives us no real answers whatsoever. The handicapped bitch bit has gotta be from the book, cuz there’s this one character who’s in a wheelchair, but she’s like a badass amputee, a gunslinger. Plus she has multiple personalities. I’ll leave it at that and let you read it yourself someday. Start at the first one though, don’t just jump into the fifth chapter, unless, that is, you really really want to.

As for the 7 grand for the cheeseburgers, maybe it’s representative of my fascination with lopsided deals, which I didn’t know was inherent in my personality but so be it.

I did not see kill bill 2 this weekend although it’s definitely on my radar. Instead I went to the 2nd most successful film of the weekend, the punisher. It was aiight. Had it’s moments. Uh, when did Rebecca romijn soon-to-be-not stamos become like a legit film star that’s in like everything? Not that I’m complaining, she’s a serviceable actress in many factorials, but, still. Eh. Travolta was purty good as like some overacting villain, although, nah, he didn’t overact too bad, I take it back. Takesies allowed in this game, Donnie.

Oh yah, and there was one piece of cinematic violence therein which I had never seen. A guy getting stabbed in the throat, up through his head, and his mouth’s open, so you see the knife going through into his head through his mouth. Good stuff. Thank you mr. director. So end result? Punisher worth your $6.50 or whatevs you pay. Or just jack it off of a satellite. Either way, you’ll be entertained. I ain’t saying you’ll learn the meaning of Pythagorean philosophy or anything, but eat a hot dog and gargle some popcorn and sizzle a fizzle, and you’ll thank me in the morning.

Hmmm. It’s, like, early. Early bird gets the worm. Late bird gets the girlie with the 2 dollar perm. Tell me what song that’s from cuz damn I can’t remember. I think I know who dropped it, but not where when or why. One hint, I think he got shot in the head in that one movie with janet & tupac. Could be wrong. Just goes to show, they always fuck you at the drive through, um, drive-in. Aloha.