goin down

So, you may have noticed that my blog is back to default settings.

Look, I've had some difficulty with the template settings, so as a result I'm planning an overhaul for the whole thing.

In the interim here are my now defuct links:

Jan

Matt, one of my new roommates

because im tired of being a liar

That's not the reason. I feel threatened. Not threatened, concerned. This concern stems from a few different roots here and there, crawling their way through the soil, until they reach that concrete retaining wall which, while underground, doesn't really exist. I haven't updated in a long time, and my deservedly enormous constituency is up in arms.
I've been busy, folks. I've got my own shit to which I must tend. Between moving to a new city, registering for classes at the Flintstone Academy, and falling ill with some manner of 23rd century turboplague, it seems I haven't allotted due time to this little endeavour. Perhaps if I had a camera and a lot of time to get excited about basement nights I could have done more picture posts like Jan, but in all honesty, that shit is just bush, man.
For real, dog. Cheap. I don't care about your new shoes, dude; they look like your old shoes. And don't, before you do. Don't say "Nah dude pull your toungue out of your ass doggie these shades of grey and blue are different than the other shades of grey and blue I had on those other shoes you aren't observant sometimes man that is why you do not get into colleges."
But it's okay cause Jan's firm grasp on html does give his shit some class, and it helps to downplay his hackery a little bit. Besides he's gotta keep the content "lite" and family friendly as he has many loyal readers in the U-12 cat. So folks, visit Jan's blog today, it's probably updated! Visit it frequently, vigilantly. He's a good guy just tryin' to make a buck, so when he shakes his cup at you, tip your hat and let the man dance.

I'll be back when I have a legal internet connection, and when that happens you'll have a legal entry from me, but till then, I'm going to follow my colleague's lead and publish a photo that otherwise needs not be published on the internet.



Chocolate love, all.

missing some dvds?

This guy probably stole them.




Seriously, look, he's wearing my shirt.

Don't ever fucking ask me why I hate the Dutch again.

tab is for beautiful people

So basically pretty much yeah like every time I watch Black Entertainment Television, I get confused when they say "Rap City." I always think they're saying "rhapsody." Which then I kind of transliterate into being "rap-sody," which sounds like something I'd like to be invovled in, or at least see or hear. Because, you see, I figure it'd be like a Hip-Hopera but cooler, because Aaliya can't be involved this time because air travel is just so insecure these days. I think i'd like it to be somewhat of a coming of age story/musical but in the hood 'cuz it's a "Rap"-sody. Like maybe we'd have Mike jones as the male lead;an inner city simpleton but with a heart of gold and maybe he has a few tabby cats(?) Louis Gosset, Jr. could be the real sleazy but easy to fall in with (but not so easy to get away from[!]) drug dealer or chop shop owner who is the element keeping Mike (Iron Lung would be his rap alias in this film) down and in the hood, cause he'd owe him money. But we all know the Lung finds a way out and into fame and prosperity, inner peace and Cribs. Though, with all the money in the world (and respect and street hype) he can't win the heart of longtime childhood friend and love interest/female lead (played by Ashanti when she turns 18.) Though he would obviously get his chance and the rap-battle for her hand in the end(you know there would be one.)

This is Louis Gosset's filmography (you should check out the Iron Eagle series, It's really good)

and sharing the light and gospel of JESUS CHRIST

That's someone's interest. I feel like they may be misleading a bit here, seeing as sharing such as the light of Christ can only be done by HE HIMself. He's a pretty high profile dude to be ripping off, you likely aren't as such, that's why he gets caps on his pronouns, and you have to live in Galveston.

These jerks are standing on Galveston:


Jerks.

Better than the inquisition, I guess.

Recently, last night actually, I gave myself note that perhaps I should alter the group of people I generally run into at night. Now, generally, Arlington nights are just a slapdash amalgamation of just about anyone who youve ever kind of liked a little bit, which is fine by me. Generally fine by me. However, with increasing frequency I'm finding myself in places with two or three people I genuinely like, and by circumstance two or three people that they like, and maybe one or two people that the thrid group tolerates, but on the whole, I would wish into nonexistence if I had that power.

Im not gonna name names here, but last night I was kickin' it pretty solid with some doggies of old, when that group of "tolerateds" arrived. They were met with a warm reception from those who knew them, and by akward handshakes/fives/finger pops and the end/confusion and general panic from the rest of us.

So with the introductions out of the way, one such tolerated began to sing and play guitar, and do other things you shouldn't do when people don't want you to sing and play guitar. He realized soon this behavior was unacceptable. He stopped. There was rejoicing. But. There were elements attempting to coerce him to continue.

He didn't, thank God, but he did say the most disturbingly ill-fitting sentence as an excuse for why he wouldn't play the guitar anymore.

Now, I'm not gonna lie, this scared me a little.

Imagine a Tommy Chong look alike, but without having been in movies, saying:

"I'm not gonna play anymore [name], does it look like I'm trying to get excommunicated from the church of scientology?"

Fuck that.

No thank you.

so much that i forgot html

It´s true, fuck slashes an commands and lower-case letters encased in

Look none of that is important.

What is important, however, is that at 8:00 E.S.T., I will be boarding a Pullman model 70 first class rocket-bus to the forest planet Endor. It´s apparently in this country, and after having seen enough of the native inhabitants, I know exactly where the Ewoks came from.

George Lucas is like six types of racist.

But that´s cool, cause I got in a motorcycle wreck a few days back.

Fucked up my leg pretty bad, and i got a burn above my left ankle that looks a little bit like a slice of cold pizza now. I think thats from the infection.




Its hard to tell.

Oh plus my brother and I almost got murdered by gang members over a wallet.

Motorcycles and Beer

As we all know, they mix.

They create a viscoliquescent solution of unadulterated cool heretofor unseen by the likes of many, many motorists. Knowing this, I contacted my man what supplies me with knowledge of wordly sorts, for he, among other things, was a motorcycle owner. Being that, and knowing quite well the afformentioned info, it should be no surprise to any of you that he as well has a propensity for from time to time, it's not like he has a problem or anything but a propensity for being drunk.

This gives him, as it does many, good ideas. Ideas like, Henry, ride my motorcycle.
I am no one to refuse a kind offer like this because after all, we're all brothers.

So I hopped on.
And I rode (free as the wind!) to the end of the block, around a Volkswagen, and upon the turn back to my apartment, Man of Worldly Knowledge took wait.

But I did not stop.

I continued, all of three blocks, at which point, I almost got ground under a chicken bus crossing an intersection without so much as the right of way.

Oh cursed I was from the windows of that '72 Blue Bird Body Company (powered by Ford Motors) school bus!

Therefore, upon my return you can understand how easy it must have been for me to have run over that cat.

My head hung in shame, nary a word upon my lips to express this feeling!

Basically, I wasn't paying that much attention.
Either way, with the blood of this cat on my hands and bike chain, I returned, to the awaiting man.

The story was not recounted.

Even though, in my mind, I felt it to be pretty fucking good.

Long Goodbye: Volume one

So, I've got this problem. Every two days or so, when I check my email, in the hopes that I may receive a message bearing some relevance and/or urgency in regards to my life, family, etc., I am greeted by a ranting, capitol-letter-subject psychomessage from Jerry Fallwell. I don't know how this guy got my e-mail, or why he has given it to every Christian internet community mailing list in existence (including, but not limited to, "Meet Christian Singles," "Singles with Christian Values," "Christian Singles with Valuables," and "Catfancy.")

And I'm not entirely certain I'm supposed to know why.

My last dose of E-ligthening from the conservative Christian right's self elected direct-link-to-God-via-CB-radio operator bore the subject line "LIBERALS TRYING HARDER THAN EVER TO DESTROY CHRISTIANITY."

Friend's he's on to us.


If want to achieve our goal of deicide by our November deadline we must move fast.

You will all be sent todays launch codes and Vigilance Kit via the new KFC snacker, to be purchased at Battlefield KFC in Manassas.

Included in the kit will be cyanide pills (2) Paul Reiser's bestseller "Couplehood" (1) my latest Boobah Fanfiction manuscript(s) (1 unless you've previously requested the full volume) O.B. applicator (Family Size Box) and finally, a collection of Darkthrone albums (3).

You all know what must be done.

fella

Get this tunic


Or don't. Either way Old Navy is going out of business.

this is my father

The one and only

Today, my subjects, is Easter. Apparently the name Easter along with that sexually ambiguous rabbit are both of pagan descent. Makes sense, primarily because i can see pagans playing the early nineties computer game sensation Descent (chapters I-III) online using Bunny as their handle.

Somehow.

However, rooted in pagan lore as it may be, Easter is a big deal here in Guatemala.

Not Easter necessarily, but the preceding ¨Holy Week¨ in which thousands of small brown men dressed in slightly larger purple robes carry around these huge platforms with large wooden Jesuses (Jesi)all over town, thus reaffirming the faith of this country´s citizens and pissing me off all at the same time.

Not he Jesus thing, I mean that´s cool, no disrepect, but when I´m living on a very busy street, and I just need to run to the store and get some potable water when I have an enormous hangover on a Tuesday afternoon, and I can´t open my door because some 6 year old kid parked his ice cream cart there, I just gotta say, that´s not scorin any points for Jesus.

I´m sure he doesn´t care that much though.
I wouldn´t if I was dead and gone and visually misrepresented in public effigies being carried all over a town that didn´t even exist when I was alive.

But no worries.

I have to admit it is quite brewathtaking to bear witness to these people´s faith. I went out on good friday to watch what´s supposed to be the moset grandiose of all the processions.

There were several effigies, but one in particular caught my eye. Rather than portraying our lord and savior carrying a bejewled cross (which was clearly not in the Romans´ budget on the true date in question)with three drops of blood total on his face, this one was all white, and showed Christ in a glass coffin. There are two reasons this one struck my fancy:
a)It kinda looked like Lenin´s tomb, what with the glass coffin.
and b)The coffin itself was being held up by several little white midget angels that despite their blanched complexion, bore a striking resemblence to Paul Mooney.





It´s been a stressful week, too many tourists to really be able to deal with and it´s been hot as fuck.



But that´s not important, cause I have to go on a date with a Lesbian.


/h

Round 2

Alright the title of this post may be a tad deceiving since I'ts likely only to be realized by a line or two following the real subject.

The real subject being how I got screwed on my clown trip.

My primary purpose for living in Guatemala for as long as I have has been to learn Spanish. This is no mystery to anyone who may have known that I live here in the first place, however many people are not aware of why I would choose to live in a developing nation in Central America for so long. The truth is, I really was interested in doing this so as to be able to connect for effectivley with the young children I would be helping, for the second time, in Cuba. However I was recently informed that that trip has been modified so as to help Tsunami victims in Sri Lanka.

Which is fine.

I love western asians.

However, now I can't even do that.

The cost and distance and allaround commitment are just too much for me to bear.

I can't fucking afford it.


So now, with my entire purpose of learning Spanish having been negated, and my inability to participate in something I've been waiting for for nearly a year, I don't know what to do.

Except fucking vomit all over everything.

That brings us to the round 2 section of this entry.

I got food poisoning again. I think. It might've just been my seeing keegan shirtless and wasted at the superbowl party, though, who knows.

Regardless. I'm fine now.

And Im gonna go get some third world Burger King.


atown down motherfuckers.

What'd you do today?

Living in another country, especially one in Central America, you can pretty much bet your life on getting some manner of food poisoning. However, having staved off this particular infirmity for just over 2 and half months, I figured my raw ass motherfucker of a stomach could handle anything. Quite the contrary. At approximately 9:22 P.M. on Dec. 5th, I signed my own gastrointestinal death certificate. Evidently this stir fry I ate had like, HELL of MSG in it. Plus the meat was rancid or something I dunno. So, with the MSG on top of the shit street-meat that was in my stirfry, not only was my body rejecting the food, but my stomach was physically eating itself. I mean, that I can deal with, I mean these things happen right? It was when I threw out my back from throwing up so hard that I kinda gave up on life altogether and decided that if I could ever walk again that I would buy a load of razorblades and do the deed. Well, today I walked again. But I decided the razor blade idea may have beena bit hasty, so instead I just went and got some Burger King.

Shank

n: a homemade knife, v: to be stabbed from behind


The second one makes plenty of sense to me, that's what shanking is. Everyone knows that because it's spawned the nationally observed holiday of Shanksgiving.

However the first is strange, cause nobody homemakes shanks, unless their home is prison.

DON'T BE ALARMED

I don't want to scare anyone here, but I've just received word that if you smoke menthol cigarettes it means that you are gay.

Be cogniscent.

Be vigilant.

God bless you all.

Blue sock

I woke up at 4:00 a.m. EST this morning. I had a plane to catch at 6:00. I was in a hurry, bitch. I've had this problem since I was like, an embryo, where I never have any fucking socks. Ever. So, following a trend that I've been more ore less married to since I was conceived, this morning I just grabbed all the socks I could find, regardless of size, lace frilling around the ankle, and evidently, color. I threw some on all blearyeyed this morning in the dark just thinking, you know, socks are socks and shit fuck all those bitches who say other wise, I'm so sick of those motherfuckers always telling me about socks and shit, I'll cut them all up, etc. So yeah Jump to the second leg of my little trip back home to Central America. I got the aisle seat on an emergency row, because for some reason Continental hasn't seen my arrest record or something and they assume I can be charged with the duty of saving the lives of 200 some-odd white Texan women that have to leave the country to adopt because they want to strengthen the Hispanic Republican voting base and pay less for college or something someday. I hate Texan women. My death in a horrific crash on flight 1121 would have been a worthy sacrifice to have killed them all. Do you know what 200 dead Texan women would do to the quarterly earnings of Hallmark stores and Kmarts with a Hallmark gold crown section in them? Anyway. So I've got all this leg room right? I do, I know I'm right. Fuck you. So I've got this leg room. So I take advantage of it and put my left leg over my knee to achieve a higher plane of sitting comfort. That's when this enormous male flight attendant makes a comment about my blue sock. Sock, not plural. I just had one. This led me to beleive not only do I desperately need to start coordinating my socks, but that I also need to kill more mle flight attendants for calling me out on my shit. But it didn't stop there. He tried to talk to me. I had my head down. I didn't even acknowledge the sock comment cause hey, we've all got our problems, I just want to move on and forget it. But no, Mr. I Failed beauty school in the eighties when it was cool to have my haircut so I'm going to take it out on you decided to get all up in my shit about my book. So I kicked a pregnant woman who happened to be walking by in the gut and I went to sleep using the flight attendant's skin as a blanket.


Cause you know, airplanes are cold.

the third world.

I woke up this morning with a brown recluse in my bed. If I find out later that it bit my wang, and the thing gets all necrotic and falls off, I'm going to kill you and your fucking dog and take four shits and then die myself.

further proof

Pure, Unadulterated FunkJazzFaux (7:25:23 PM): what am i reading
JazzFaux (7:25:34 PM): ahha wow
butiwasntover (7:26:05 PM): haha
butiwasntover (7:26:15 PM): a blog i started
butiwasntover (7:26:20 PM): to call you a bitch
JazzFaux (7:26:23 PM): i'm gonna blog you in the ass dude
butiwasntover (7:26:27 PM): haha
butiwasntover (7:26:33 PM): blog molly while youre at it
JazzFaux (7:26:54 PM): i've been blogging molly for quite some time now
butiwasntover (7:27:03 PM): hold on, my toilets blogged
butiwasntover (7:27:07 PM): ill be back
JazzFaux (7:27:12 PM): hold on, i have to put on my bloggles
butiwasntover (7:27:36 PM): want some egg blog?
butiwasntover (7:27:45 PM): tis the season for bloggin your noggin
JazzFaux (7:28:53 PM): i'm glad we had this conversation
butiwasntover (7:29:16 PM): im putting it on my blog

hmm

Do you ever find your self getting that feeling, where you know, beyond any doubt, that Jan is a huge bitch? Man, I got that feeling....