moving to texas tomorrow for a little while to work on the ranch.

if i don't see you, it's been real.

we're alright

jan got a job at eb


howmanywhales: also i got hint of some awesome gear in the store room...IE more megaman clothing and a devil may cry PAIR OF PANTS.

i'm not employed currently.

ive been seeing a psychologist

lungbrothers: good evening, doctor
DrGlass: This is Dr. Glass, brought to you by the movie "Basic Instinct 2." To read the Privacy Policy, click here.

Catherine... Is that you?

Can you talk?
lungbrothers: nah
DrGlass: No? I have something I must tell you.
lungbrothers: look dude its not her
DrGlass: Ask me what happened.
lungbrothers: id rather not
DrGlass: You would rather not? You really think so?
lungbrothers: look man i know what i think
DrGlass: Hmm...
lungbrothers: dont try and get into my head here
DrGlass: Hmm...
lungbrothers: what did i say?
DrGlass: What did you say? Not sure...
lungbrothers: so youre not even listening
DrGlass: Hmmm... Interesting.
lungbrothers: yeh it is interesting that im paying like 200 hundred dollars an hour for you to fucking ignore me
DrGlass: Hmm... Whatever.
lungbrothers: HMMMM
DrGlass: Hmm?
lungbrothers: HMMMMMMMM
DrGlass: What are you thinking about?
lungbrothers: i could ask you the same thing, you just keep moaning and shit
DrGlass: I am afraid you don't understand the seriousness of the situation.
lungbrothers: tell me straight doc
DrGlass: I am ashamed to say I recorded our interludes. Rather than have me explain, just call 800-595-0588 to listen in.
lungbrothers: interludes?
lungbrothers: hello?
lungbrothers: doctor i can see you
lungbrothers: youre sitting in front of me
DrGlass: Scotland Yard won't listen, you must.
lungbrothers: doc im just a student, i dont know what you think i do...
DrGlass: She told me things during our sessions that I saw as an invitation... I know now they were a warning.
lungbrothers: id rather not hear about your sexual conquests doctor, this is all highly inappropriate
DrGlass: Tell me more.
lungbrothers: goodbye doctor

no for real, i'm not.

Now, I'm not black. I'm not, but if I were, I'm more or less certain that I would be outraged by Cowboy Troy.

I mean, yeah, it's nice that Nashville is at least trying to curb the blind racism of their entire demographic, but jesus christ this is just the wrong way to do it.
Are they hoping to get black people into country music? They are? Like, what the fuck is with Big and Rich? Bringing hip-hop to Nashville what the hell?

I heard a song the other day called Honky Tonk Badonkadonk.

I mean, it's nice you're making the effort Nashville but I mean, you've ignored the fact that this country's been desegregated for a half a century what's with the sudden change of heart? We know you're an antiquated industry trying real hard to still be relevant, but you're kinda comin off like a dick.

This is a musical phenomenon that the world just doesn't need.

This is a reason to make fun of America that we don't need.

And this

is just all sorts of stress that the black community doesn't need.

endless conquest

You know back in the old times it was okay to take a joke to the next level. It was acceptable to retaliate with an otherwise inappropriate amount of force, just to let it be known that you rule the playground or the warehouse or wherever. Apparently the rules don't extend to an instance where you've been disrespected in your own home. Last night I bought some cinnamon trident that was contained in this sweet little bowx with the fliptop and it was tight as hell and I was excited. So, later we had some fags come over to hang out, and one such fag, whose ego could've sunken the Lusitania without all that help from those torpedoes made a point to eat all of that gum and leave wrappers everywhere and laugh when I called him out on eating my gum. This was unacceptable to me, so I took the exchange to the next level. He made the terminal mistake of leaving one piece of gum left. Instinctually I began to chew, contemplating my next move. It then became obvious to me; I had to put the gum in is hair.

SO I DID.

Then he freaked out and left in a silent rage.
Then everyone else got a little irked and kinda changed the mood of the whole thing because I put gum in someone's hair.

I rememeber a time when you could pull shit like this and not face a trial at Nuremburg but apparently those days have passed and the liberal media has conditioned us all to believe that this sort of behavior is unacceptable well FUCK YOU ANDERSON COOPER and don't think you can control MY mind.

well

Where to begin? The events of last week have left me tired, helpless. Like Poe, as he noticed that fateful spot of blood appear on the lip of his beloved Virginia. I start to wonder: to whom have I done wrong? Perhaps the fickle fates have laid upon my shoulders the burdens of my bygone sins? No, I was just being a proactive guy, a man-of-the-times. I gave that poor soul the benefit of the doubt; I crossed onto his side of the street before passing his position mere metres to the west. In return? That motherfucker robbed my ass.
"Ey dogg, ey!" These were the words to stop my tread.
A furtive glance over my left shoulder confirmed my fears.
"Empty your pockets, this ain't no fucking game!"
Alas! Were we not caught, both our roles in this sick game of life entwined in the very same spot, only able to advance had one of us rolled doubles?
As we both stood, stoic in our proverbial Ventnor avenue square, I resolved to do away with the such terminal contemplations and comply with my assailant's will.
I gave him four dollars, which, though to you and I may be a mere pittance, certainly could've afforded him a king's ransom at the dollar menu, for clearly this is why one steals: necessity.
So I kept this in mind as we shuffled together into the nearby bodega, so that he could drain my savings account, surely to purchase food for his kin.
Again, I remained mindful of his situation, wondering to myself what sort of desperation I would succumb to, this deep in the throes of starvation?
As I pulled ten dollars out of the machine, I looked upon my gentleman thief, as he struggled with the latino shopkeep, pointing with a steadfast ardor at what would be the fruits of his labor: thirteen single packed Swedish Fish candies.
He caught my glanced, and feeling compelled to offer some sort of wayward kindness, I applauded his choice, and let him know that swedish fish was, in fact, my favorite confection. It was then that I was convinced of my captor's good nature, as he responded simply:
"Want some of this shit?"
Excited at the prospect of candy I nearly let out a bellowing "Huzzah!" Though I cought myself quickly, and gracefully declined, reminding myself once again of the necessity of his actions.
I was then ushered out by my merry thief, I gave him my ten dollars, and we parted ways. I patted him on the shoulder and thanked the kind man for taking my money.
I was left to walk the way to my home, all the while with the face of that man on my mind.

Oh this is truly the city of kings!

well

i didnt get that belt.

and apparently that kid's dead now.

in any event, i gotta go back to new york tomorrow and take the finals i should've taken last week.

not too happy about that, but these things happen.
merry christmas

you sound black.

Well for the first time in my life, it seems that Christmastime has creeped up on me, leaving me little time to just get greedy with the whole thing. So, I'm just now getting around to editing my list, which is as follows:

One: The Criss Angel Mindfreak Complete First Season DVD
Two: A new stepdad
Three: Maybe a Visa Buxx Card
Four: The new U2 CD
Five: A black belt, just a normal one, but if I could get a karate one I'd appreciate the effort on Santa's part
Six: 50 Cent: Bulletproof for Xbox 360
Seven: An Xbox 360, but not the expensive one with the wireless controllers because taht is just so bourgeosie
Eight: Finally, I would like for this kid to get the operation he needs to fix his hands, and play once again with the other children, unafraid of their jibes and wisecracks.

If anyone wants to lighten santa's load, I'm registered at any metropolitan area OMG discount Jeans outlet.

God Bless You All, and Stille Nacht to everyone.

julia has opinions

I understand it's been quite some time since I've updated, so I apologize...but not to Julia because she doesn't seem to understand that genius needs time to blossom.

The reason I've left you all bereft of my insights is because I haven't had much going on...until yesterday when I was almost murdered at 10:30 am. Getting assaulted on the subway on your way to a French midterm by a married couple of drug addicts is weird. What's more weird is being stood up for by a tall, mahogany goddess in cowboy boots.
This woman just faced this guy, who was high on drugs and clearly had a weapon he kept reaching for, even though his hoodbride kept him from unsheathing it. I just kind of sat down and waited the whole thing out, which may sound cowardly, but you have to understand that this man had accused me of stepping on his Timberlands. He pointed out the smudge. When accusations like that start flying around you don't want to be on the receiving end; shit is serious times, dogg.

Also, I took the time last weekend to journey into the heart of the machine, which thereby allowed my compatriots and I to transcend time, if not necessarily space. I'm disappointed we couldn't acheive the latter, but the semester isn't yet spent.

get rich or die tryin' really hard robbin' people

We took Dudley back. Kinda wishe I'd updated inbetween my last post and this one so it wouldn't have looked so bad having this next tho the one calling to save him...

Either way party on Saturday, so come over, but don't talk to Matthew. He has shingles.

let him walk`

Alright, now I'm normally averse to begging, but I feel like I'm begging for a good cause. That cause is Dudley. Our dog Dudley has recently, as in 2 hours ago, been diagnosed with a torn ACL. As a running back for the Jets, he knows the risks involved in juking someone out just a little too fucking hard, but he still takes his chances.

Therefore, I'm calling for a little fundraising. He needs surgery or he won't be able to use his back left leg ever again. That's not a joke, he won't.

If you would like to help us deal with the exorbitant costs of the subsequently necessary surgery, please send checks or well concealed cash to

Fucking Save Dudley's Goddamned Leg
262 Taaffe Pl. Apt. 214
Brooklyn, Ny 11205

BTDUBZ - This is Duds:




Help him out huh?

the hardware store gave me a free hat.

Matt and I saw Weezy again night before last. Same shirt, animosity, etc.
I played some Ms. Pac-Man at Sputnik over a couple beers, but the stick was stuck and as a result I found my little Ms. to be unable to perform her wifely duties of gathering produce and not being eaten by strange European ghosts.


At first things were great.

She'd pick up the strawberries I'd ask for, the cherries too. But I must've done her wrong somewhere along the line because I could see her, plain as day, waiting expectantly for the inevitable ghost onslaught. Unable, perhaps, unwilling to move, she just stayed there, back to the impending holocaust (she's always been a tease) just waiting for me to grab that stick and bring her back home to my loving arms, to teach her once again to love...

And I tried. Needing to hold her again so desperately I grappled with that red stick for what felt like days, but she wouldn't respond.

I had hurt her so deeply, she thought herself better off in the arms of a ghost rather than with me, to her but an apparition, the shell of a once kindred soul.


Someone spilled beer on the machine. That's all I'm saying here. Bitch wouldn't move.

more of a loretta thing

Today finds me as the new owner of The Definitive Collection: Patsy Cline Compact Disc.

I also saw some band from Baltimore sometime mid-afternoon. Then there was pizza. And I also bought a used belt, being the first belt, used or otherwise, that I will have owned in two years.

The whole deal was pretty low key.

Jan tells me this new movie based on DOOM is actually filmed in first-person perspective.

If this is true, it could be huge. DooM, if you are unfamiliar, is likely the best thing to happen to me in my life, more or less.

To me, this news is especially huge, because if it's true, it could easily become the second best thing to happen to me in my life.

And that's cool, because my new belt has been hoggin' that spot for a solid three hours.

bedrock u

Having completed the first half of my second week in college, I've com to belive that this year may be somewhat more difficult than I had previously imagined. Not difficult necessarily in an academic sense, however. In fact, my classes are no more difficult than any that I had taken in high school. The difficulty to which I refer stems from the attitude an general comportment of the rest of the student body.

That's to say the "student" body is dominantly comprised of utter fucking savages. What I encountered on the fifth floor men's room on the south hall is a pretty good example. Now, what bothered me about the whole thing wasn't so much that someone had tried to drop some serious fucking heat in the far urinal, bur more that this person missed the goddamned bowl. If you're going to display the mindblowing amount of sack necessary to shit in a public urinal, especially one in a school, at least try and it right. The whole thing is somewhat like suicide in this respect. If you're going to do it, do it fucking right and don't tell me how tragic it is that you lacked the sack to return your shit to sender.

But this in't about suicide just yet. This is about these people's inabilty to adhere to simple social norms. Simple things really. Things like not giving into community pressure that dictates in your neighborhood it is some manner of rite of passage to get your own goddamned name tattooed on your fucking bicep when you turn sixteen. At the very least they could get in a font not already claimed by the rest of fucking Puerto Rico. The matching beltbuckles are a mistake as well, I know, but they're not a permanent one.

And Ms. Perez, if you happen to be prominantly displaying both, don't cop a fucking tude and say "Shit you don't know me" if I ask you where the library is, because, infact, I know more about you based on the combination of your sweet 'hood tat, your belt, and your Boost Mobile phone hanging from that belt than you will likely know about anything.

Judgin by the student body and the unparalelled ambience of the third floor terrace, elegeantly provided by the barbed wire and indomitable smell of what seems to be airplane glue and gasoline, an outside observer might easily mistake my school for a UN established state university in the Sudan.

But shit's tight. We cool.

of parties and the day since

Friday night saw the christening of our new place, and the hull was well slathered in suds, friends. What was originally going to be a Friday night affair quickly became, once again, a Friday night affair, as Jane's suggestion to hold the event on Saturday was soundly and swiftly rejected.

The decision was made after the actual residents of Robofrance 214 came to the conclusion that it was really of no consqeuence to us whether there was a village people party across Taaffe. We called the night, and it beckoned back.

What began as a low-key gathering of a few knuckleheads quickly escalalted into an all out fucking baller-status affair with a guest list including the likes of "White guy dressed as black guy waiting for an ass kicking cause he's doing coke in the hallway and trying to steal my Ketel One dude," "talk-shit in earshot girl," "I'm gonna play these instruments loud and badly cause they're here boy," and of course the ever amicable E-weezy.

E-weezy is kind of like the a-bomb. No one wants him interupting their good times, but he shows up anyway, leaving behind him a wake of skinless burning death and eventual radioactive deformity. And the motherfucker was trying to sell shrubs cold on premises.

Aside from a few huggins come latelies and the eventual police presence, however, the shit was a success. Had some good times and no one got hurt, and made the acquaintance of a few perhaps soon to be knuckleheads.

Next time we choose to pull something like this, you should come, but let'snot let big motherfuckers who sell drugs into the building this time.

gravy train...?

The template is up and running again, and now offers you new features like class, style, and a Slush Puppy machine.

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)