I was talking to my boyfriend yesterday, and I was so excited to see him because last week there was no room in the Knap-sack making class, and then there was room so I was so happy I could enroll because all my girls from the Ferngully Dancers Squire were in it and I was so BOMBED to tell him, and he just said
"So you died yesterday!" and laughed while I was telling him, and it was so mean I wanted to stick my fist in a powder of arsenic and swallow it right there!
Then when I told him how he made me feel so awful, he said
"So your head falls off!" and he laughed again!
Why are boys so mean to me? I mean I try to be so so nice and fun to be around and be Voted Most Funnest to Be Around, but now he makes me feel like maybe my head did fall off and this whole time I've been walking around without a head like a chicken!
Well, he's the chicken. I'm going to go scam with Brad today behind the bungelows when classes get out!
People say Nature is indiscriminate.
And that the weather is unknowing--
merciless, yet without malice.
And that the weather is unknowing--
merciless, yet without malice.
I say fuck that shit.
The heat supports rape in third-world countries;
the heat hopes all the news is bad.
the heat hopes all the news is bad.
The heat hopes your neighbor gets a new Cadilac,
and that you get thrown out on your ass.
and that you get thrown out on your ass.
The heat makes your parents dissappointed,
and keeps your lover dissatisfied.
and keeps your lover dissatisfied.
The heat makes your pets sulk;
the heat drops all your calls.
the heat drops all your calls.
The heat enjoys ticks and bed-bugs,
and rubs blood and salt in your eyes.
and rubs blood and salt in your eyes.
The heat is a girl who wouldn't screw you;
the heat is a debtor who flouts your calls.
the heat is a debtor who flouts your calls.
The heat relishes remembering moments
that shrivel up your pride.
that shrivel up your pride.
The heat is a lousy TV dinner, headache,
and an empty bottle of wine.
and an empty bottle of wine.
The heat is heartbreak and failure;
the heat is your mother tired.
the heat is your mother tired.
This is how people live. They rest at nights. They rest at nights because they are tired, and don't have to worry about getting murdered. They rest at nights with open windows, nestled snugly with their lovers. Not everyone lives this way. Some people kill each other. Some wonder what's to stop another? Darkness isn't necessarily dangerous. It can be peaceful and soothing, like a satisfied sigh and a gentle breeze. Some people corrupt the nighttime. Some people take drugs and turn the music really loud. It is dark outside but they shut their blinds, and inside there is light and depravity. Some people are peeping. Some people are sick; and some are not very good. The morning light brings a new day. Some people bring darkness with them.
cooking hour in pleasant valley
I think if you enjoy tuna in a can, you'll appreciate my quick tuna salad recipe. It can come useful on lethargic evenings when you've neglected the workouts we discussed last week, and want to take it easy on the carbs for the night; or for a chance to get in some protein and make up some calories. It's wonderfully easy. I'll show you. When it comes to canned tuna, I think we can all agree that the hardest part is getting the darn thing open! I know, I'm horrible.
Well, I'm going to show you some simple ingredients that immediately add a Pleaset Valley flavor to a melancholy night and your can of tuna. You'll want the typical components of the traditional salad: onions, diced tomotoes, and mayo. Now, you don't need any more than a modest teaspoon of the mayonnaise for flavor, and I'm going to show you why. You're going to tantalize your palate with an array of fresh sources, namely cilantro, avocado slices, and a healthy touch of lemon. As you can see, for one can of tuna and a limited amount of the fatty condiment, I'm dicing up a generous amount of cilantro and crisp tomatos, onions, and my avocado slices; and when I add this to my tuna you won't see a glob of wet, unruly looking fish, but a colorful landscape, beaming with virile energy. And you'll want to use a bowl that complements the wholesome feelings evoked by fresh lemon-yellow zest. Notice, I have choosen a bowl with a healthy orange hue. You'd want to sit down and paint small little green-and-red flowers on it with a thin brush. It's magical! I cannot tell you how many letters I receive from newly weds in Atwater Village, thanking me for finding the life of colors with my kitchen as they do with their ripped converse shoes. I like a slight touch of sweet mustard with my new-look tuna salad; again, you don't need the mustard to scream "I'm here!" Everything is working together, everything in its right place.
Now, sprinkle some pepper in your Valley, and enjoy!
...
I gotta start my community service early in the morning. I got 8 hours for tomorrow and a half-hour break. I bought some construction shoes and an ice-bucket; I'm packing a great lunch. I hope I get a chance to show it off. My sandwich is an avocado turkey selection with honey mustard and whole grain bread--Im getting about 15 grains on that thing. By substituting mayo and cheese for an avocado, I'm only getting in good fats. In a zip-lock bag, I'll have a couple servings of beef jerky, which I think is a good addition and an excellent source of protein. For a snack, I'll have a package of roasted seaweed chips; although to spice things up, I may opt for the wasabi flavor. My whole meal will contain less than 10 grams of fat, and most of that will be from friendly sources. For desert, I think I'll indulge in a cookies 'n creme protein bar. Now, the bar can be used as a meal itself; but in my selection, I chose one with limited calories and sugary carbs, but with a high protein ratio. It took me a while to find my ideal choice, as I would act nonchalantly if there were passersby in the aisle.
To make efficient use of my range of food options, I'm just going to have to persuade my Super to the idea that, instead of a lunch-break, I shall require six modest lunch-breaks. I'll have to get my complex carbohydrates earlier in the session, so as to use that fuel for energy throughout the day to give back to my community--obviously. Then, I shall only need to nibble on my protein sources in minute sessions to support a healthy metabolism. A rest under the shade of an oak tree out yonder, I feel, is in order for proper snacking and replenishment of fluids. And who knows what fruits of my labor will be compromised if my facilities are depraved of the crunchy goodness of pure protein whey isolate towards the latter stages as I feel my powers dwindling?
The bottom of my ice-bucket, I'll fill with ice and an assortment of bottled fluids and iced coffee. I choose the low-calorie iced-coffees, because I prefer my coffee black; but will opt for a low-fat milk selection, if it can't be avoided, because I'm cool like that, I'm cool like that, I'm cool like that, I'm cool like that, I'm cool like that, I'm cool like that, I'm cool like that, I'm cool like that. I'll place my food in my makeshift fridge, as well. Naturally, I will need to notify the Super at some point that I shall require a place to refill my ice-bucket.
I'm stuck on the issue of nuts--poly and monounsaturated nuts. On the one hand, mixed nuts could bring about a communal bond; on the other, pecans and cashews are something you want in your private reserve. Peanuts, maybe. That says, "I'm with you comrades, but I am not bourgoise."
Now, cigarette breaks can be a touchy issue. I'll first inquiry as to whether smoking by activists is frowned upon, or outright prohibited. That should give us a platform upon which we can assess our negotiation options, or formulate our tactics accordingly.
Good day,
Sisyphus
To make efficient use of my range of food options, I'm just going to have to persuade my Super to the idea that, instead of a lunch-break, I shall require six modest lunch-breaks. I'll have to get my complex carbohydrates earlier in the session, so as to use that fuel for energy throughout the day to give back to my community--obviously. Then, I shall only need to nibble on my protein sources in minute sessions to support a healthy metabolism. A rest under the shade of an oak tree out yonder, I feel, is in order for proper snacking and replenishment of fluids. And who knows what fruits of my labor will be compromised if my facilities are depraved of the crunchy goodness of pure protein whey isolate towards the latter stages as I feel my powers dwindling?
The bottom of my ice-bucket, I'll fill with ice and an assortment of bottled fluids and iced coffee. I choose the low-calorie iced-coffees, because I prefer my coffee black; but will opt for a low-fat milk selection, if it can't be avoided, because I'm cool like that, I'm cool like that, I'm cool like that, I'm cool like that, I'm cool like that, I'm cool like that, I'm cool like that, I'm cool like that. I'll place my food in my makeshift fridge, as well. Naturally, I will need to notify the Super at some point that I shall require a place to refill my ice-bucket.
I'm stuck on the issue of nuts--poly and monounsaturated nuts. On the one hand, mixed nuts could bring about a communal bond; on the other, pecans and cashews are something you want in your private reserve. Peanuts, maybe. That says, "I'm with you comrades, but I am not bourgoise."
Now, cigarette breaks can be a touchy issue. I'll first inquiry as to whether smoking by activists is frowned upon, or outright prohibited. That should give us a platform upon which we can assess our negotiation options, or formulate our tactics accordingly.
Good day,
Sisyphus
two trout fishes
in a swimming pool
Baby, i'm gonna
eat your poo
two jerk chickens
in a country store
being jerks
to the customers
two ducks hunting
in a Range Rover
they're el-e-gant
bach-e-lors
two fox trotting out
of a convenience mart
with a Moon Pie and
a two pints of booze
And the moo-cow goes:
Moooooo!
And the moo-cow goes:
Moooooo!
two free chickens
in a free-range range
and the range range range
and the range range range
two free chickens
in a free-range range
and the range range range
and the range range range
And the moo-cow goes:
Moooooo!
And the moo-cow goes:
Moooooo!
two trout chickens
in the fun-drink farm
half-past drunk with
the fox and ducks
two trout chickens
in the fun-drink farm
half-past drunk with
the fox and ducks
two trout chickens
in the fun-drink farm
half-past drunk with
the fox and ducks
And the moo-cow goes:
Moooooo!
And the moo-cow goes:
Moooooo!
fun fact of the day:
In ancient times, the Muslim community's most besmirched member was he who was without clean feet. Distinguished members of the community, and commoners alike, not only frowned upon, but vehemently derided any man caught in such a sordid state, so to speak. Not only did feet bearing the putrid earth underscore impurities of skin and soul, but the rationale was if a man fails to keep his feet clean, how will he wrestle with the bear of a woman's insolence? He must, then, be likely to condone the reading of words by a woman, the adding of numbers on her fingers, and likely to allow her to eat the food she cooks for him--at the same table, in the same room.
Today that cloud of smoke is thinly veiled, and the once universal sentiment has dissipated through the years and contact with Western influences, handsome casanovas, liberal tourists, and pesky feminists. However, some purists still stick to their guns, or stones, as it were; and the remnants of the past can be heard in language alluding to its simple and absolute truths. When members of the community greet each other with, "Hasa ma lankum," the phrase--roughly translated--quite literally means, "I see that your feet are clean; and that makes you an honorable man."
And now, you can impart this wisdom to your hipster friends at wine, cheese, and prosciutto dinner parties. Or pot-lucks.
Today that cloud of smoke is thinly veiled, and the once universal sentiment has dissipated through the years and contact with Western influences, handsome casanovas, liberal tourists, and pesky feminists. However, some purists still stick to their guns, or stones, as it were; and the remnants of the past can be heard in language alluding to its simple and absolute truths. When members of the community greet each other with, "Hasa ma lankum," the phrase--roughly translated--quite literally means, "I see that your feet are clean; and that makes you an honorable man."
And now, you can impart this wisdom to your hipster friends at wine, cheese, and prosciutto dinner parties. Or pot-lucks.
the wonder years
"Young girls get their hearts broken. Men and women suffer alone, over the choices they've made. And young boys, full of confusion... full of fear... full of love and courage... grow up stealthily in their sleep."
Cooking Hour with Eatkhash
So what I did was, I ran some frozen raw shrimp through cold water for 8-6 minutes. It was more like 15. While the shrimp was defrosting--the shrimp were defrosting, I diced up some broccoli, cilantro, and onions with my dicing knife. After that I emptied all the contents of my dicing plate into a medium sauce pan with too much water. I added a pinch of salt and a sprinkle of lemon pepper into the water and stirred the water with my stirring knife. I also added some ginger pepper chili sauce into the mix to give it that Oriental flavor.
In another medium sauce pan, I added a little less than 1/4 cup of quinoa and added too little water. I brought the quinoa and water to a boil, then let it simmer for about 12 minutes. I then added my shrimp to my vegetables and hoped most of the water would be gone at the end.
Meanwhile, I sliced a quarter of an avocado with my slicing knife, then continued to slice it into symmetrical shapes. I added some salt and lemon to my avocado and placed it on my plate.
At this point most of the quinoa was tender and the water was gone. So I put that on my eating plate as well. My shrimp and vegetables were boiling, but I didn't really want to wait any longer, so I just dumped out the water in the sink, with most of its flavor. Dinner was served.
I got a fancy glass, filled it with water and ice cubes.
Now my shrimp was a little bland, but an avocado seasoned right works magic with almost any dinner.
Join me tomorrow when I will be showing you how to make a Spicy Mexican Shrimp Cocktail with cucumbers and avocados for your next fiesta!
In another medium sauce pan, I added a little less than 1/4 cup of quinoa and added too little water. I brought the quinoa and water to a boil, then let it simmer for about 12 minutes. I then added my shrimp to my vegetables and hoped most of the water would be gone at the end.
Meanwhile, I sliced a quarter of an avocado with my slicing knife, then continued to slice it into symmetrical shapes. I added some salt and lemon to my avocado and placed it on my plate.
At this point most of the quinoa was tender and the water was gone. So I put that on my eating plate as well. My shrimp and vegetables were boiling, but I didn't really want to wait any longer, so I just dumped out the water in the sink, with most of its flavor. Dinner was served.
I got a fancy glass, filled it with water and ice cubes.
Now my shrimp was a little bland, but an avocado seasoned right works magic with almost any dinner.
Join me tomorrow when I will be showing you how to make a Spicy Mexican Shrimp Cocktail with cucumbers and avocados for your next fiesta!
Why is my teacher acting so strangely?
So like every morning at first period our teacher comes in late with messed up hair and wrinkled clothes and closes up the blinds and drinks 2 aquafinas! and sits down on his chair and doesn't move for a while.
Anwayz, his eyes were all RED! and he always smells like Kitty's nail polish. That cheap kind, CAUSE Kitty's parents are poor and one time she tried to use food stamps to buy a burrito from the Taco Bell cart.
What's up with THAT!
Anwayz, his eyes were all RED! and he always smells like Kitty's nail polish. That cheap kind, CAUSE Kitty's parents are poor and one time she tried to use food stamps to buy a burrito from the Taco Bell cart.
What's up with THAT!
I walked with the Lord of Grace across his seedy concrete palace.
"Cha chong-chang! Cha china chong chang!" Meta Peace soldiers were arguing with a donut shop owner.
"Ey, whatcha' got? Listen here, I can get that for you, I'll hook you up. What I'm sayin, is if you put more action in where there is action, you get more action, feel me? Now I can do that for you, I got you! But you put more, you get a lot more, is all I'm trying to say. This here, listen, this here, it ain't much. Now I can get it for you, but we can get a lot more, feel me?
Listen...now hold up now. Bitch, c'mere a minute, Bitch. This my Bitch. Now we get a room, got my Bitch--Bitch meet...what's your name again? Mr. Weiner? Bitch meet Mr. Weiner. Now we get my Bitch, hit the crib, break off some of that--but we ain't got shit! That there ain't shit! It's going to last us what, when we got all night. Alls I'm sayin is, I got my Bitch, we got the crib--I'm gonna take care of you. I got you! So what we need to do, is you gotta add some more flow on top of that, and we get that big chunk. Yea, that's right, a return on our investment, feel me? It's economical. It's business, baby. Yea, I know you on top of that! You can see that nice chunk--we get back to the crib, we got my Bitch. Bitch, say hi to Mr. Weiner. We business partners. Now all we gotta do, is you gotta top off that flow--we get the wholesale price, and we flip that shit retail. And I tell ya what, she gonna break you off a piece tonight, and then some, feel me? Ain't no bitch like my bitch. Bitch say hi to Mr Weiner. Ain't no thang--there's an ATM right there. Yup, right there."
This is the age of making things happen.
This is the age of taking action.
You pay your taxes,
Enjoy your domestic beer
and appreciate a Good Deal.
You take things head on.
So why should you suffer from erectile dysfunction?
We here appreciate your right to a Good Bulge.
And after an honest conversation with your doctor,
you can enjoy all the perks of the little league park,
from your window.
After all, you've earned it!
This is the age of taking action.
You pay your taxes,
Enjoy your domestic beer
and appreciate a Good Deal.
You take things head on.
So why should you suffer from erectile dysfunction?
We here appreciate your right to a Good Bulge.
And after an honest conversation with your doctor,
you can enjoy all the perks of the little league park,
from your window.
After all, you've earned it!
I had a couple teaspoons of peanut butter while I was standing over the sink. Better jot it down. I think it was more of a regulation-size teaspoon. Not so much homestyle, but like it came from a late-night diner, or the Soviet Union--straight out of Yugoslavia--and found its way into my kitchen drawer. It looked crude and unappealing.
I think I'm getting too much fiber.
Instead of a plain chicken breast, I've been grounding my chicken. That way I can add cilantro and spices into it. I've been getting good results with cilantro; and pistachios are preferred over peanuts.
Tilapia is tasty, but I should look into more fish. Cod, herring maybe, or mackerel. I've never thought of myself as a salmon type of guy. But if that's what you want me to be, I'll do it.
Maybe some catfish.
I think I'm getting too much fiber.
Instead of a plain chicken breast, I've been grounding my chicken. That way I can add cilantro and spices into it. I've been getting good results with cilantro; and pistachios are preferred over peanuts.
Tilapia is tasty, but I should look into more fish. Cod, herring maybe, or mackerel. I've never thought of myself as a salmon type of guy. But if that's what you want me to be, I'll do it.
Maybe some catfish.
I got a paper-cut a few days ago, maybe two weeks ago, I don't know. I can't stop thinking about it. I have a mammogram in the morning. No, an ultra-sound. It's become something somewhat disconcerting, my thoughts about my paper-cut, and the accompanying sensations it brings have begun seeping into my consciousness, as it were. I may be trying to rest or going through an unremarkable motion of my day, and I'll remember the sound and texture of someone's nails along a folded paper, next to me, over and over again. I don't know if it's the sound or texture, or something intangible I've failed to describe, but that passing thought sends a fervent shiver down my spine, and seems to wrap around my neck; and with my nerves wound tight, my head shakes like it took a one-two punch of adrenaline, if any of that makes sense. I'm not sure how to describe it. Such a sensation I believe is common and akin to how others fear the chalkboard--but lately, you see, I feel almost compelled to indulge that unpleasant sensation all too often, especially when Im lying in bed. Once my mind catches that thought, the physical repercussions inevitably follow, and I start imaging what if those sensations never cease and continually run through my body. Imagine a person next to you, your son or your sister, one day just starts screaming. At first you're annoyed by their petulance and untimely whim of spontaneity, but the screaming doesn't cease and the situation takes a sinister turn. Not knowing what to do, you might decide to take them to the emergency room. And while every patient is waiting for their turn, your patient is in the room screaming, and eventually that horrific holler starts playing upon their nerves, and your nerves, and the nurses' nerves....eh, I digress. That can't just happen, can it? I can't just start screaming one day and never stop until I'm sedated, can I? If I don't cover my ears and make some noises in time before I experience someone folding a paper, I'm a goner, man. A fuckin goner.
Sleep won't come. I'm hungry. I have to fast. I smoke too much. I wish I socialized more. I think of funny things in my head I could do. For instance, any tim e I would leave a room, every room, I would say, "Eatkhash, out!" And everybody would laugh and clap and hoist me above their heads--at this point they would have gathered in a crowd so I would be like bodysurfing, or crowdsurfing, as it were.
Sleep won't come. I'm hungry. I have to fast. I smoke too much. I wish I socialized more. I think of funny things in my head I could do. For instance, any tim e I would leave a room, every room, I would say, "Eatkhash, out!" And everybody would laugh and clap and hoist me above their heads--at this point they would have gathered in a crowd so I would be like bodysurfing, or crowdsurfing, as it were.
And so crumbles the unfortunate cookie
My father likes to feed the birds in the mornings, before he begins his day's work. He mashes up some dry cookies and sprinkles the crumbs onto the concrete. Every morning a crowd of birds gather around the parking lot, waiting for him. This, I imagine, must irk the other tenants, and more so any unknowing or unfortunate civilian.
One particular afternoon, and particular it was, upon entering his workplace--his mud, if you will--I spotted a small little bird lingering in the middle of the business floor. Obviously, he was hungry, but more, he took a direct proactive approach in seeking my father's attention. I thought this was cute, and a bit heartwarming.
"There's a stupid bird in here." I told him.
The little bird caught my father's eye, and before he could get sentimental, the small thing started fluttering about the room, and through an opening and into another room as my father followed it. He tried waiting for it to settle down, but the bird flew around until it hit the windowpane and dropped to the ground, on its side, kicking his feet.
My father cupped the bird in his hands, whereupon the bird flew out and into the inevitable window.
"Why haven't you opened the door yet?" I exclaimed in hapless frustration. "The whole wall is just glass!"
"Look at him; he's dazed. If I let him go out now, he's going to run into something high and die."
"What do you know, old man? Once you hit the other side of 40, that's it! It's all over."
I opened the door and he walked out nursing the bird in his hands, probably whispering. He let the bird go, and the bird flew into the other side of the window.
"Didn't I tell you?" he spoke.
"Well, what should we do? I got a football game to watch."
He sat the bird down on a slab of concrete. It was wheezing heavily and did not move. The little bird sat perched on the brick for a little while, and when my father went back to check on him, the bird was gone.
One particular afternoon, and particular it was, upon entering his workplace--his mud, if you will--I spotted a small little bird lingering in the middle of the business floor. Obviously, he was hungry, but more, he took a direct proactive approach in seeking my father's attention. I thought this was cute, and a bit heartwarming.
"There's a stupid bird in here." I told him.
The little bird caught my father's eye, and before he could get sentimental, the small thing started fluttering about the room, and through an opening and into another room as my father followed it. He tried waiting for it to settle down, but the bird flew around until it hit the windowpane and dropped to the ground, on its side, kicking his feet.
My father cupped the bird in his hands, whereupon the bird flew out and into the inevitable window.
"Why haven't you opened the door yet?" I exclaimed in hapless frustration. "The whole wall is just glass!"
"Look at him; he's dazed. If I let him go out now, he's going to run into something high and die."
"What do you know, old man? Once you hit the other side of 40, that's it! It's all over."
I opened the door and he walked out nursing the bird in his hands, probably whispering. He let the bird go, and the bird flew into the other side of the window.
"Didn't I tell you?" he spoke.
"Well, what should we do? I got a football game to watch."
He sat the bird down on a slab of concrete. It was wheezing heavily and did not move. The little bird sat perched on the brick for a little while, and when my father went back to check on him, the bird was gone.
Kickboxer
I'm a big fan of the Kickboxer trilogy plus one. In the first, Van Damme learns to kickbox to avenge his brother's defeat at the hands of Tong Po in Bangkok. This was an instant classic because it featured Van Damme dancing at a bar with every other mans' (?) girlfriend, then beating up all the patrons at the bar.
At the beginning of Kickboxer 2, we find out that after losing in Bangkok, Tong Po shoots dead Van Damme (who is not Van Damme, but a different actor) and his paralyzed brother. From there steps in a new brother, a younger brother never mentioned before, the funny dude from Step-by-Step - the tv show with the Magic Mountain opening credits. He also beats up Tong Po, who interestingly, seems to forget how to fight at the end of both movies.
In Kickboxer 3, Step-by-Step, is a kickboxing champion who travels to Brazil to defend his title, while he also saves Brazilian orphaned teens from the sex trade.
In Kickboxer 4, Tong Po has become a Mexican drug lord, and Step-by-Step now uses automatic weapons.
At the beginning of Kickboxer 2, we find out that after losing in Bangkok, Tong Po shoots dead Van Damme (who is not Van Damme, but a different actor) and his paralyzed brother. From there steps in a new brother, a younger brother never mentioned before, the funny dude from Step-by-Step - the tv show with the Magic Mountain opening credits. He also beats up Tong Po, who interestingly, seems to forget how to fight at the end of both movies.
In Kickboxer 3, Step-by-Step, is a kickboxing champion who travels to Brazil to defend his title, while he also saves Brazilian orphaned teens from the sex trade.
In Kickboxer 4, Tong Po has become a Mexican drug lord, and Step-by-Step now uses automatic weapons.
Bring what you can to the table, and maybe we'll feast. Try to forget the past. Don't judge me. That's just something slutty girls say. My neighbor's name is Mrs. Featherbottom. That's rather ironic. An off-duty paramedic saved the life of a man who sawed off his arms at Home Depot. I'm surprised there weren't more off-duty cops and paramedics shopping at the Home Depot. A blank slate, blank stare, blank thoughts. Stuck, and dry, and dull...lull my mind. My eyes could nestle, if I allowed them. If I let them; it feels like practice, and practice makes you drowsy, or stuck, like seeing numbers, eight and seven, nine and seven, and a blank, and count with your fingers to meet the time, count with your fingers if you dare, but hurry, Panic. Blankness, dull black blankness, dumbness feels like a slight pain or hole. I have to take a shit. It makes me crave a cigarette.
Subtract a one from the seven or add it to the nine, then what becomes- but hurry! People are watching
Subtract a one from the seven or add it to the nine, then what becomes- but hurry! People are watching
good finds on pandora
guster - satellite
phoenix - north
edward sharpe & the magnetic zeros - home
2 door cinema - something good can work
the Xx - crystalized (or anything by them)
phoenix - north
edward sharpe & the magnetic zeros - home
2 door cinema - something good can work
the Xx - crystalized (or anything by them)
Things to do Tonight
- Do my Squats
- Be Fabulous
Motivation: To have vicious legs and be able to crush skulls with my thighs at WrestleMania while filing my nails with my nailgrinder.
- Be Fabulous
Motivation: To have vicious legs and be able to crush skulls with my thighs at WrestleMania while filing my nails with my nailgrinder.
.
I had a chance to swipe some pills from someone's house the other day, but I didn't. I guess that's progress. Instead, I swiped some of their melatonin. Melatonin helps with sleep, but too much gives you nightmares. That's also interesting. In the mornings I take fish oil, tyrosine, vitamins, and some russian meds for my liver. I haven't had red meat for like five days, and with my new exercise and happy health regimen, that double teriyaki cheeseburger and fries (at the chinaman's joint) will be set aside for occasions, like when I take a lady-friend somewhere special.
Speaking of which, it was recently disclosed to me that my estranged wife was seeing a man, a below-the-mark type of fellow. As sure as jest, I rang him over the chord, and the following transcription conspired:
- Ahoy hoy?
- Yea I got something to say-
- Who is this?
- Yea, listen to this, I paid two sheep and a goat for that slut sow. As such, she is my property.
- Who do you think you are, Princess? You're nothing but a joke, a jester, a cheesecake.
- Say what?
- A Jack-In-the-Box cheesecake!
- But soft! You go anywheres near her I'll sue your ass for trespassing.
- Vile scaremongering! Rare vulture of the forgotten! Chickenfeed for the peasants, is what you are.
- Chickenlicker! Chickenlicker!
From there the conversation degenerated into something brash, with the word, "Peckerwood," tossed aside along both ends.
Speaking of which, it was recently disclosed to me that my estranged wife was seeing a man, a below-the-mark type of fellow. As sure as jest, I rang him over the chord, and the following transcription conspired:
- Ahoy hoy?
- Yea I got something to say-
- Who is this?
- Yea, listen to this, I paid two sheep and a goat for that slut sow. As such, she is my property.
- Who do you think you are, Princess? You're nothing but a joke, a jester, a cheesecake.
- Say what?
- A Jack-In-the-Box cheesecake!
- But soft! You go anywheres near her I'll sue your ass for trespassing.
- Vile scaremongering! Rare vulture of the forgotten! Chickenfeed for the peasants, is what you are.
- Chickenlicker! Chickenlicker!
From there the conversation degenerated into something brash, with the word, "Peckerwood," tossed aside along both ends.
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