Wednesday, March 4, 2009

...not a single fuck

when life hands you lemons.....?
you smack it in the face with the shitdick, thats what you do. and no, spellcheck does not recognize shitdick. 
i dont know if its the economy or the severe decline of moral character in individuals, but the days are giving it, strong,long and hard. 
can you feel it? the general "out for self" , "hunter/gatherer" attitude of people these days. i mean, im no fucking hippie, but come on my duders, shit where you eat, and youre gonna eat shit. me? i appreciate some good cooking.
  i definitely still blame windows 98: but for this evening im going to rock the positive, and use a glitter framed photo and neighbors that have piss poor sex as my inspiration.

i got pulled over again for speeding on the turnpike, i used the words" im sorry officer, i was trying to make it to the rest stop, i have to shit so hard" in an attempt to thwart a ticket. yes, it worked. and as a side note, the officers name was Muscle, thats a hard style.

odd as it might seem, and ive mentioned this before, the cookies speak to me.
 and i do my damnedest to listen. i mean, im not exactly saying i found the face of god in my grilled cheese, but i sure as hell get a smile out of a well timed chinese food cookie. but then again, its not going to be anything more than what i make of it right?

Im kickin it with some serious style Bowie type Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes as of late. some real deal wwII military advancement type shit. cept, personal, not military, and present day, not back in the day. yeah , not exactly going to win any analogy of the day award with that one , am i?
word,  i suppose the blank posting box, and the terror of editing another photoshop image werent enough reason for me to make sense tonight.

so on and so on,
i write shit on my hand, not the word shit necessarily ( yes it appears there sometimes) but words in general. ive been doing this on the steady for about the past 20 years. so i dont forget things, so i dont have to look in my pocket for a reminder, so i can simply look to my left, and have a kickass list of the days duties. in theory, awesome. the truth, most of the time, i forget to even look at my hand. today it says
and while i have no clue who the fuck james is, or why its written there, im just going to accept that three out of four isnt bad. my shorthand has just become a little too short. i dont know how many morons ive had tell me that i should just get a post it note tattooed on the back of my hand, cause that would be so cool.
yeah fucking cool, thats exactly what i want, a fucking yellow box on the back of my hand. i mean, theres something to be said for spontaneity , but seriously shitbird, think before you open up your mouth.

and i think thats a nice transition to my next topic,
mouth-breathers .

what the fuck.
i have my moments, but, word is bawn.
some motherfuckers were pissing in the dna pool on this one

1 comment:

  1. There IS something in the air these days, what with the hunter/gatherer thing and the rode hard/put away wet types. Which begs the question - have you ever seen Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome or The Road Warrior? Of course you have. We're going to need a few things to survive: a big oil tanker, leather pants, and several school-aged Australian children. Things we won't need: Post-It Note tattoos, Tina Turner.