I was thinking about some stuff

And……..

I’m back, kind of. After about a 2-week hiatus from this gay blog, I am back, and here to stay.

Nothing really to “talk” about I guess. Roughty is the undefeated, unchallenged BigDaddy of this blog, with his posts consistently kicking ridiculous ass in the world of “Pegasus” and “ass” internet searches.

Attention random, fucking retard rednecks who found this site by typing in “masterbation,” (ie you can’t get laid, and you are a fucking idiot speller)…anyway, attention to those people: Do not talk shit about Roughty or call him “retarted” or he will get mad at you, and maybe pee in his own pants.

In other news, I had a BACK to BACK celebrity citing this weekend. It was kind of strange because both of them were driving the same exact car, in the same exact color. I’m driving down the road, trying to loosen my load, and who the fuck do I see? Who is one of THE undisputed savages of recent cinema, a veteran of the Vietnam War, a friend of utmost proportions, a tricky bastard willing to sacrifice his health and well-being for the good of his friends and fellow countrymen?

Who did I see, driving past me, with a shit-eating grin on, and a fat cigar sticking out of his fat face, with his squinty eyes (no yellow aviators though).

Who the fuck did I see, possibly the biggest Celebrity Savage I have spotted so far in my adventures in LaLa Land?

“I myself dabbled in pacifism. Not in ‘Nam, of course.”

walter01.jpg

Walter Sobchak in the house.

Dank, Walter would have cock-slapped you back to Poland if he heard you mumbo-jumboing about your revolution. The bums lost.

Then, I literally turn the corner, and see this fool riding high in the same Mercedes box SUV.

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That’s right, bitches, he’s pointing at me. Because he knows I’m keeping it real, big pimping style.

Motherfuck it, while we’re on the celebrity kick, Lady T had a somewhat major (fucking weirdo) celebrity citing yesterday at her work. If you want to see a celebrity, go to Lady T’s work, and your probably will.

Kazing!

clockwork-orange.jpg

“The Korova milkbar sold milk-plus, milk plus vellocet or synthemesc or drencrom, which is what we were drinking. This would sharpen you up and make you ready for a bit of the old ultra-violence.”

Why do I live in LA? I don’t know. My place is tiny, shit is expensive and there’s bums everywhere. Once I get in the city, it’s nearly impossible to leave. You can either drive, which will take you hours and hours, or fly, which will also take you hours. Am I going to leave? Can I leave? Is it possible?

Nope, it’s like the old fucking retarded Dr. Gonzo. “I took too much, I took too much.” I think I took a little too much, and I’m still just holding on for the ride. At some point, I’m sure everything will slow down and settle down, but I’m not going to bank that it will be today. Or tomorrow for that matter.

I’m anxiously waiting to see the Stoney Reunion pictures. I have a feeling that they will be classic, and that I will look fatter and paler than I think I am in real life, and also that Suityourself will actually come across as more of a homosexual in the pictures than normal, because he is….homosexual.

He likes dudes.

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