Well, my plan worked. Everyone is gone and there is nobody to read/write entries. All mine! mwhaahaahaa. Anyway, it’s been awhile and I just wanted to start off by telling everyone that they are gay.
For news, well, I ran into a long lost brother: III dog. I was standing outside of an academic building dreading the fact that I had to go to class and up walks the one the only. But, does everyone know that grad school is for fags? This shit blows and if you ever feel any inclination to lead a more fulfilling life and escape your wage slavery–don’t. Yes, that’s right. You have an eyewitness that is telling you. Live an unfulfilling, selfish life. Work, put in your eight hours, go home, and forget about what hell you just went through. The beauty of work is that you can leave it at the office if you want. Grad school is gay. I’ve actually decided to do my reading for once and now all I do is fucking read. Read, Read, REad. And, some may say, “well, that guy is lucky. He is enlightening his brain and reading interesting stuff.” Well, if you think that is the case you are sorely mistaken. Nothing is interesting in my course of study. I mean, does anyone find gender roles in Antebellum (pre-war) America interesting? No, only man-hating lezzies. Well, I guess I miss not reading cool stuff and listening to people talk about it.
On another note, all the nay-sayer can eat a big fat because the Giants won the Super Bowl. Yep, that’s right, Giants. As for shit-talk for upcoming events, Red Sox are looking to defend their championship. Unfortunately, I’ll be stuck watching the National League suck the big one.
Anyway, I’ve got to go eat dinner at 7 -11. Ahh, the good life.
… it’s still funny as shit. i told mr dankkkkkkk on the phone already, but you’ll all appreciate this little gold nugget.
sooo, i told you that i work at a school, right? well, anyways, my boss is out of town — in sri lanka, actually (not doing drugs or getting blowjobs — aka he’s wasting his time), but during this trip, i’ve been running the show in this class that i’m also enrolled in. ok, so the dean was pissed off that i was in charge and am not a professor, so he made my boss’s boss sit in on the class while he’s out of town. his reasoning? and i quote, “what if someone starts stripping in class? the g.a. [me] can’t be responsible for those liability issues.” so, my dept. head and i were laughing about that. i mean, who strips in class? nobody, right? i told her i’d rather have some VT type shit pop off than have some lady start ripping her clothes off in class.
ok, so fast forward to last night’s class. the lecture was going on, and about an hour into the class, we took a break. i smoked a cig, and on the walk back to the class i see this dude (i’m not saying he was black or anything, but he wasn’t white, hispanic, asian, american indian or pacific islander) walking through the hallway. i didn’t recognize him, but no big deal.
so, about 30 minutes later, i see this hand come in the doorway of the class. it was the same guy, but i didn’t make the connection at the time. he pulled the door almost shut so it was only opened like 4 or 5 inches, maybe. i figured he was studying or talking on the phone, and we were distracting him. again, no big deal.
then, like 10 minutes later, this lady in my class whispered my name from across the room. i walk over there and sit down. she says, “there’s this black guy masturbating in the doorway!” [pffft] i didn’t know what to think, so i look over there, and sure enough, there he stands, dick in his hands, wacking it in the doorway of my classroom! right there so this lady has no choice but to look at his junk! my department head says to me, “call the cops right now.” so, i go out of the class toward my office. by this time, the dude has zipped up and is digging it to the exit. i saw the back of his head, and he was gone.
hahahaha.
so, i called the cops, and they’ve been interviewing me and my classmate all day long! how funny is that shit? with all the porn on the internet, this dude is going to wack it in public to a bunch of 40-60 year-old school teachers?! w….t….fuck?! that is some deviant shit fo-rizzle. the cops didn’t catch him, and in my conversations with them over the past day, they’ve had like 4 other reports about him doing the same shit all summer long.
my hope is that i’ll catch him next time. i see myself tackling him and kicking him in the balls. that’d be funny, but what happens if my hand accidentally touches his johnson or ballsack?
does that make me gay?
seriously?
does it?
cuz…
i mean…
(i really am not sure if i can handle that.)
so, anyways, that’s my funny story. i’ll bet stoney never saw no shit like that in venice beach! so, for all you easterners, stop packing your bags. there’s no need to go west. we’ve got plenty of sick fucks in this part of the country, too.
Under The Radar, or “UTR,” is a very important concept to understand and implement, if you are of a similar mindset to me. I’m not sure exactly how to pin down my “mindset,” but at this job, I’m pretty lazy and like to do the bare minimum. I’d like to add that it wasn’t always like this at my job; when I first started, this was my first job, I was gung-ho, blabla….but after a year and a half, I have concluded that my best option is to keep my head down and do what I’m told.
UTR means that you do your job right the first time, and that no management wants or needs to talk to you day-to-day. You’re doing your job, everything goes up on time, no mistakes, whambamthankyoumam.
I have touched briefly on this concept early in the blog, but wanted to outline some key points of achieving and maintaining Under The Radar status for the neophytes and job-seekers out there.
1. Show up on time every day, and do your job. Lateness and skipping work leads to other people doing what you usually do. If other people can take care of your bullshit when you are there, why do you need to be there? Come to work every single day on time, and you are literally more than halfway there to being UTR.
2. Don’t make mistakes. Mistakes create confusion and scrutiny. Fingers usually end up pointed at the person below you, so if you are at the bottom, which you probably are if you are reading this blog, then you should not fuck up, so nobody is pointing their finger at you.
3. Maintain professional distance from your coworkers. When you become friends with your coworkers, keep in mind that you spend more time with them than with you do your significant other, or roommates. When you bring someone from work into your life, and show them how wasted you get, or how many steroids you do, they are going to automatically take that knowledge with them to the workplace, and it will affect their view of how you do your job. It is most wise to create a firm, though friendly, wall between your job and your real life. Work-related BBQs and the occasional happy hour with the gang are different than becoming homies with DW from sales and doing coke at the bar with him. When you cross that line, it is impossible to come back.
4. Don’t be the go-to guy. The go-to guy, in my experience, always has 2x as much shit to get done as the normal guy. Why be that person? Are you really getting paid that much, or do you just take THAT much pride in your shithole assistant position? It is important to create distance between yourself and the management nexus, which creates and distributes the given workload.
5. Build relationships with people who support similar UTR mindsets. If you are in an office with 1/2 worker bees and 1/2 UTRs, why would you want to be friends with the workers? Fuck them, they are not doing it right. A spiderweb network of UTR assassins creates a safety net of similar-minded people who can back you up when and if necessary.
6. Create a certain aura of mystery around your duties. If nobody knows what you are doing, then how can they talk shit on you? When you look busy, but nobody knows what you are doing, people will usually give you a nice little bubble of privacy, so that you can carry on in your mission to underperform as strongly as possible. In an earlier post, I mentioned frowning. A good frown on your face for more than 50% of the day should be enough to convince people that a) you are busy working and b) whatever you are doing sucks, so nobody else wants to do it.
That’s pretty much it. Come to work, do your job, be friends with people who are also into slacking (but don’t buy weed from the same dealer), and don’t put yourself into a situation where you are the “Golden Boy.” The thing about Golden Boy status is, that it always fades.
I hope my Under The Radar thoughts help you in achieving your goal. If you are reading this blog at work, then it’s a fact that you have at least a little slacker in you. Don’t let the Man take away your slack. That’s a bunch of bullshit.
… i am not allowed to drink coffee anymore at all.
ok, let me start out by telling everyone who doesn’t know that i am a recoving/-ed blow-fiend. (just now i was looking for pics to post right here but decided against it. such pics are a bad idea. ganga pics are one thing, but straws, razor blades… i don’t think so.) anyway, about my addiction — it wasn’t a long one — really just about 2 years, that’s it. not that long at all. but it was bad. i don’t know if i believe the hype about “addictive personalities” or any of that, but i really liked the chizzzowder for serious.
here’s a short sidebar. ok, so i just came downstairs in 1420 a, and i’m trying to keep it together. everything’s fine, and then all of a sudden, i start tasting this awful (at least it was awful at the time) drip going down the back of my throat. i was all like, “dude, i think this shit is fucked up. i’m getting this bad taste down my throat.” sir stoney of stonesylvania starts busting out laughing and, between his already clenched teeth says, “you’ll learn to love it.” and i did.
so that’s the sidebar. i liked it alright. spent lots of money, 80 bucks at a time, til i had none left. anyway, it’s been about a year and change, and i’m clean as a whistle. all that shit is behind me except for the guilty feeling i get anytime i’m still awake when the birds are already chirping. anyway, it’s done now.
so… back to the story… i’m about to switch jobs and i was at a meeting this morning with this guy who wants to give me some money to write this big paper. so he says, “you want a cup of coffee?” i said, “no thanks, it makes me a little nervous.” he said, “come on, i just got this new kind. you’ll like it.” so what am i going to do? offend this guy who wants to give me green green money by turning down his delicious coffee?! no. that’s not me. i don’t make waves like that on purpose. so i says, “sure, i’ll have a small cup.”
so i’m chilling on it, sipping and blowing. it was actually alright. then, about half-way down the cup it starts.
my teeth start to clench. immediately i recognize the sensation. it’s the same ole blow feeling. and i start thinking… worst! then, right on cue, comes the motor mouth. my achilles heel. i don’t know dick about this damn project the guy’s talking about, but right then i was a motherfucking expert. i knew more about this shit than anything in the world, and i was going to talk about it. (in retrospect, i don’t think this bothered anyone. in fact, i think they were impressed with my caffeine-induced confidence.) so, this is where it begins to get really strange. the whole time, i knew what was going on. the coffee had gotten into my system, and i was getting the placebo effects of a fat-ass rail up my schnoz. just the same, right after i started talking, i started sniffling. you’ve all been there. it happens — but not with coffee! anyway, i’m sitting there in a pretty important meeting with clenched teeth, sweating, hunched back, talking a mile a minute, sniffling like david crosby. i am ashamed of this, bigtime, and because of that, i am never drinking coffee again. i am not allowed. ever.
this is my message to you little boys and girls out there. never do drugs, because you’ll never be able to drink coffee again at all.
or maybe that’s just me.
moral of the story — drug users can get good jobs. i got the job this afternoon, even though i was a skiiiiiid up wreck at my “interview.”
unrelated final thought. braves are poised to burn past the mets. roughty, put your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye! 🙂
The Beatles. Elvis. Jimi Hendrix. The Doors. The Rolling Stones. Nirvana. The music will never stop. Ever.
One of my favorite quotes, from any song, is from the Libertines, “If you’ve lost your faith and love in music, then the end won’t be long.” People will never lose faith in the music, and rock and roll has been around for about 50 years now, and there are two schools of Rock. Brits and Americans.
Americans will always love British rock…Beatles, Stones, Radiohead, Zeppelin. Americans generally diss on their own kind, in favor of their tea-carrying pansy grandparents. I’m just going to lay it on you, and SCIENTIFICALLY PROVE that American rock and roll rocks harder than British shit does.
I admit, I used to be a Brit-head. At one time, the only bands I ever listened to were British rock bands…Beatles, Stones, Zeppelin, Radiohead, Libertines. It wasn’t out of “being cool” or being indie or any shit like that. I was just really into the Beatles, Zep and Radiohead, which then transferred into Stones, and then later, I found the Libertines, and listened to that shit non-stop. Non-Stop.
Let’s break it down, blow by blow. I am assuming you fucktards have listened to all of these bands, they aren’t that indie.
Brits First
The Beatles– the fucking Beatles. They invented the modern conception of what it means to be a rockstar. The Beatles’ influence on rock music, culture and history is undeniable. Something to note…The Beatles worked so hard on their music, copying American Rock and Roll that was going on at the time. They idolized Roy Orbison, Elvis and Bob Dylan. They were in love with America, and America was in love with the Beatles.
The Rolling Stones– the archetype badass band. Savage, country-western, badass fools.
Led Zeppelin- The Zep is the one of the most legendary bands of all time, with mysterious deaths, Satanism, dubious fish usage. Zep took the Stones’ wildness to another level, and that’s why Zep couldn’t last more than 10 years. They recorded Zep I and Zep II in the same year. It took them one night to record all of Zep I, one of the greatest rock albums of all time. How the fuck can you make a Joan Baez song rock? Zep did it.
That’s all the old people I’m going to get into. Fuck The Who.
Radiohead– Radiohead is arguably the greatest band in our generation, a serious attempt to create art through distortion pedals. Creep, although overplayed and made fun of, is one of the best rock songs ever. Just 4 chords over and over, what a fucking song.
Libertines/ Babyshambles– Pete Doherty is a modern-day savage, in the mold of the old American rock stars. He’s 28 now, which means he missed the CRUCIAL deadline of dying by overdose by the age of 27. Now, if he wants to keep his title of savage, he has to live until he’s 80, like Keith Richards. If he didn’t die yet, he shouldn’t die for a long time. To ignore the Libertines and Babyshambles because of his annoying habit of getting arrested and making headlines with supermodels, you are ignoring a force of nature.
In addition to the major savages, the Brits do carry a very, very solid lineup of lesser savages, who are nevertheless savages who carry the queen’s undies for a flag.
Ozzy- Prince of Darkness
Arctic Monkeys– Relatively Newbs…have you listened to these songs? They are NUTS.
Oasis– old hands in the kingdom of lesser savages. Bitter, gay brother bitch fights have reduced this band to a soap opera who sometimes plays guitar. Weak effort.
The Animals– House of the Rising Sun, anyone?
David Bowie– Transvestite savage, not from this planet I think
Queen– flaming homosexual rockstar. What a fucking badass. Roughty posted “another one bites the dust,” and it was nice.
The Who– suck
Sum-up for the Brits. The best old Brit bands are the ones who are the best at copying the American style (Stones, Beatles, Zep). These are the bands that grew up listening to Elvis, and old-school blues and country, and mashed it all up with a heavy amp, and distortion when necessary.
The new school of Brits, including Radiohead and the Babyshambles, are pushing into their own element. They are not so much copying Americans, as they are creating a whole new thing. The new Brits are really pushing the envelope of “What it means to Rock the Fuck out,” but sometimes, I feel like they get tripped up in their attempts of grandeur. I think Coldplay is a good example of a band that pushed too hard in one direction, and kind of turned into jelly in the stratosphere. Keep it simple, Brits, Keep it simple.
Overextension is a defining trait of the Brits, and one that often leads to their downfall. Think American Colonies, other colonies around the world, Iraq, and Spice Girls.
the first category tag i clicked was worthless friday, cuz that’s what i’m in. it’s fantastic. finally some time to interact with the tech-junkies, alcoholics and weed-fiends who read this link-laden, anti-american, diaperlicious bloghole.
has anybody noticed that politics are continuing to play a large role in our blog?! i can’t believe that shit. if you knew, (and most of you do), the authors, you’d be as surprised as me. four years in the burg, and we never talked about it. now it’s all over everything. i think that comes along with growing older. things we never cared about before are starting to look more and more important. we’re all realizing our global citizenship, and i think it’s pretty encouraging. now all we have to do is change the minds of all the fuckos in general society *(see stoney’s note about the a&f models on the airplane… these are the dipshits to whom i’m referring.)
on another very different topic, there’s this issue going on in the baseball world. my boy john smoltz won his 200th career decision last night. i don’t need to remind any of you who the braves defeated. i don’t need to tell you that they beat the metropolitans. further, i don’t need to explain to any of you that this win brough the braves record against the mets to 6 wins and 3 losses on the season. no, i don’t need to mention any of these things. why am i talking about it then? to hurt your sensitive yankee feelings? no. to rub salt into your still-smarting wounds from last october? of course not. well, i’ll tell you why. the braves are currently recruiting new fans, and if you all have been converted over the past few days, just let me know, and i’ll be happy to provide a letter of recommendation. no guarantees, but it’s at least a 50-50 they’ll accept you. last night’s prodigious victory over the hated mets was a rubber match. “what is a rubber match?” all of you except the sport-savvy roughty might be asking yourselves. again, i’ll explain it for you. in a 3-game series, if each team wins one of the first two games, game three is the rubber match. in a 7-game series that’s tied at three games each, game seven is the rubber match. check out this helpful wiki article on the topic. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rubber_match
what’s the point of this discussion? it’s not just to make fun of the sucky mets. in fact, i want to bring it back to politics. since i’ve been old enough to think about politics, there have been two presidents. (during bush the elder’s administration, i didn’t understand anything at all about it.) these presidents have been billy clinton and george dubya bush — a democrat and a republican. in 2008, we’ll have the rubber match between these two political powerhouses. as in sports, this rubber match will play a big role on the way our generation will be viewed. will our generation be defined by the shitty republicans or the shitty democrats? lord only knows. i got a guess, but it’s just that — a guess. so i won’t even mention it here. in a baseball rubber match, all we can do is drink beer and root for our own version of the good guys. last night, my team won, and i was happy. roughty’s team lost, and i’m sure he drowned on his tears. in politics, however, we can play the game and get involved. we can be the shortstop who turns the double play, or we can be the asshole who lets the ball roll right between his legs. (by the by, what team was he on again? hahaha.) either way, in politics, we don’t have to sit on the sidelines. we can cast our votes and join in the action, right? here’s the other big difference. if i make a throwing error, and the winning run scores for the other team, the game is over and i immediately know who won. if i hit the walk-off homer, it’s conclusive. i’m the big winner. with politics, it’s not so cut and dry. i might cast my vote and be all happy for a couple years after my selected puppet wins. then, out of nowhere, he blows some country off the map, and my walk-off homer turns into a “you-blew-it” game ending error. that’s why, when this year’s political rubber match comes along, i’ll be drinking beer and watching from the sidelines. the punchline of this discourse — do yourself a favor and don’t vote. vote for your favorite amer. idol. vote for which of the stars dances best. vote for the best apple pie you ate at the county fair. don’t vote for the president. you’ll invariably be sorry!
thus ends the politics of this post.
i’m still going to school. it still sucks. i also work at a school. that, too, is no good. i am trying to learn about the material required for my degree, but all i keep learning about is that everybody only cares about money. the only question my peers and superiors ask themselves is, “how can i make the most money off this situation?” it’s sad to think that this is the world we’re trying to earn membership into. maybe the solution is to drop out and move to an island and try to grow coconuts for food and decorative brassieres. my ridiculous boss’s boss’s boss’s boss volunteered me today to take part in some terrible task around the office. my autonomy is non-existant. i don’t decide what i do at all. they tell me what to do, and i do it. it’s bad for one’s psychology. you’ve all been there. i guess the right thing to do is just grin and bear it until retirement… in like 60 years. one more thing about work, i had to make a presentation yesterday to a room full of suits. i wore a rainbow colored (ambiguously androgenous) plaid shirt untucked and my oldest, rattiest pants. i gave a great presentation. (probably because dank wasn’t there flicking his damned zippo to distract me.) after this, i got an email from my boss’s boss who told me that i should have dressed nicer. this is a big old problem in our society. why in the world do people still judge you based on the clothes you wear? i’ll tell you. it’s because they’re terrible idiots who don’t know any better. and these are the people who i’m scrambling to compete with as a peer… sad.
well, mr dank nuggets is in, so let the fun begin. in honor of him, i’m taking this opportunity to post yet another savage roll call. feast your eyes on the following collection:
most savage cartoon character: Monterey Jack — he’ll whip your ass and then console you in a lovely aussie accent.
honorable mention: Nermal — fresh off the boat from abu dhabi
least savage cartoon character: Rita and Runt — an ill-fated space-filler in an otherwise exceptional show
most savage world leader: Queen of Jordan — rules with an iron fist and a lovely pair of jumblies
honorable mention: Stalin — (translation of caption: respect the moustache. fear the moustache. obey the moustache.)
least savage world leader: Jacques Chirac (someone either just snuck up him, or he was presented with a lovely quiche.)
most savage cereal mascot: Sonny (cocoa puffs) — this guy has “junkie” written all over his face
honorable mention: Andy Milonakis (fruity pebbles)
least savage ceareal mascot: Tony (frosted flakes) — why don’t you find a gayer bandana. we’re not all convinced you’re a homo yet.
most savage car model of all times: AMC Eagle (no competition)
honorable mention: El Camino (the original cross-over vehicle)
least savage car model of all times: ford tempo (my first car)
most savage blogger: suityourself (no photo available)
least savage blogger: you (look in the mirror and recognize your inferiority.)
finally, most savage drugs: steriods
least savage drugs: whipits (you’ll freeze your lungs)
Apparently I have about a month before I get fired. This is all very wishywashy, but my bossman does usually know what’s going to happen before it does. In conclusion, I would probably be a lot happier at another job, and I welcome the prospect, despite the necessary pain and shittiness of busting my ass for a new job.
What would I do if I got fired right now?
1. Send out resumes to different people to get a white collar job.
2. Work for my upstairs neighbor as a mover until I get a regular, panty waist of a job like I have now.
Considering I have a “month to go,” I think it would probably be wise for me to get a little job search going pre-emptively. I might even be able to quit, wouldn’t that be nice?
Fuck off Bossman. As soon as I quit or get a new job, I will probably start ripping on the people who work here and the scams that are going on, maybe cause a little ruckus. Fact is, I know a little more about the internet than I used to, and I could probably get some shit done to fuck up this place, although I would also have to toe a very fine line between truth, fiction and exposing this shitstem.
So for now, I can only dream about one thing. I want a weed card. I got my driver’s license last week, and I’m still waiting on it in the mail. As soon as I get it, I’m going to go to the doctor and get diagnosed with social anxiety, and then go to the weed store and buy some chrodiggidy.
Why haven’t I been writing? I am unmotivated by the lack of love we get on this blog. I’m not talking about pageviews or anything like that either. I think that we spread the word enough around the inner circle, and people just kind of stopped coming. Part of the problem is that we are inconsistent in our postings. Guess what? It will never be consistent, because an online journal geared towards pleasing people I don’t know for free does not constitute any part of my grand life plans. In my opinion, this blog’s glory days were back when we had 5 writers, me, Deddog, Haganav, Suit and Roughty. Everybody started slacking, and then it was up to just me and Roughty.
I have heard a lot of bitching about the variety. Some people like this person, don’t like that person, whatever. Guess what, bitches? Who fucking cares what you think? Instead of whining about not liking a particular author or blabla, why don’t you start your own blog, so I can not link to it?
I have also been talking with Roughty about starting a blogroll. I have come to the same conclusion. FUCK YOU, FUCKING GAY ASS BLOGROLL. I hate about 99% of the world. Why the fuck do I want to peddle to their desires and needs, so my little page view chart goes up? I don’t think so. It makes me feel sad that I hate so many people, and “do I really hate everybody” blablabla. The fact is, YES, I DO HATE EVERYBODY. Fuck off. If I know you and I like you, it will be very evident by the way I act. Maybe I’m just trying to be “cool,” but not really. If I wanted to be cool, I would gel my hair, buy some cool clothes, and go to a bar with expensive drinks and talk about “film.”
At the end of the day, and this post, I am supremely happy about one thing. DankNuggets, you are my homie, and you are a savage. Your Presidential Bid was classic, and this blog’s worth just doubled, despite the fact that we only increased authorship by 50%. Dank, Salute….you’ve got my vote big time, just as long as they start having cigarette machines in the cafeterias again.
Well, thanks to the Wage Slave for his insightful comments about the holiday. it seems as though everybody around my part of the world is enjoying the holiday. at class this morning, everybody and their brother was wearing sunglasses. as i stood at the podium lecturing, i couldn’t help laughing at the assholes in the back row falling asleep. i wanted to tell them, “oh, i been there,” but i didn’t have the heart to let them know that i knew what was up. it’s probably better if they think i don’t smoke every single day of my existence.
some people are freaking out. they think that since it’s a drug holiday and Hitler’s birthday and the anniversary of the Columbine massacre (remember that?) and so close to the most recent tragedy that some shit is going to hit the fan… i don’t know. maybe… maybe not, too. some asshole called in a threat the other day, but nobody even left campus. it was, without a doubt, the most bogus threat we’ve had in quite a while.
well, my sessions have become shorter and more boring these days than ever before. in the past, the boys and i would get together and roll like ten blunts like those depicted in stoney’s post. we’d set there and burn them until we could hardly move, wait about five minutes and do it all over again. frequently, these sessions would last until 3 or 4 am (and we didn’t even do blow). looking back, from what i can remember of those times (which admittedly ain’t much), we really didn’t appreciate them like we should have. i was always bitching because i just knew i had somehow gotten shorted by someone during the process. For instance, i can’t remember how many times i said, “come on, man, pitch another nug for the el.” i can’t remember, but it was a lot. also, there were lots of times when danknuggets was mad at stoney or stoney was mad at danknuggets, and we would start burning, and all the passive aggressive comments would start, and eventually everyone was stoned and pissed… not a good combo.
just the same, at least we were all chilling together. nowadays, i smoke alone. about half a j per night in my back yard… then i watch baseball or cartoons… then read maybe 10 pages… then go to sleep. it’s rare that i talk to anyone after burning, and i miss those times when we would all set around and shoot the shit for hours and hours. i’d like to think that if we all got together again, we’d be mature enough to keep our shit together and have fun rather than bitching at each other the whole time… who knows?
anyway, today is a day to look back on the past and look forward to the future. maybe in 420s to come, we’ll all be rich enough to ride our pegasuses (or is it pegasii) to each other’s houses and smoke blunt after blunt like the old days. maybe the powers that be will eventually…
…legalize it… but who knows?
all i know for sure is that tonight won’t be a usual 420 for me. i’m going all out. as follows is my plan for the evening:
1. Dick around here until 7.
2. Administer a final exam.
3. Go home, take a shower, roll 2 blunts.
4. Hop in the honda, light a blunt and drive around on several blaze routes until blunt #1 is gone.
5. Go to the bar.
6. Buy drinks, get drunk and start talking to random strangers.
7. Walk away from my ladyfriend and start trying to mack some marine’s g.f.
8. Get my ass beat.
9. Smoke blunt #2 until i stop crying.
oh yeah, i defy you high rollers and west coast fakers to top that!!
OK, in the spirit of Stoney’s post, here’s my list of most savage weed songs:
#1 — Who’s got the herb? (311)
#2 — Kaya (Bob Marley) [in memory of danknuggets’ soon to be chopped ass]
#3 — Tumbleweed (Afroman)
#4 — Weed Song (Bone Thugs -n- Harmony)
#5 — Mary Jane (Rick James[bitch])
Ok, that’s enough pictures. I don’t want Stoney to get jealous of my page views and kick me the fuck out again 🙂
but lookie here what i got for ya…
this is me holding a fish i caught in the conway river on new years day.
this is the scoreboard at wrigley field in chicago. i saw them get spanked by the astros last week.
jason marquis is an ex-brave. that’s how come he got onto the blog.
this is my father fighting a trout on the tuckaseegee river in old cacalacky.
WHO THE FUCK IS THAT GUY?! … wait for it…
WHOA! no name-dropping. just a visual shout-out!
OK, so i hope this post doesn’t make you bored, but if it does, just read about grundels and pegasii until you feel better…
hope nobody gets arrested tonight!
SENIOR EDITOR ROUGTHY’S NOTE:
This guy is honoring the holiday correctly. Bob knows whats up.
By the way, do they pump crazy air into that studio? I never understood why people go batshit insane on that show. However, if I got on “The Price is Right”, I would probably go total ape shit.
(i really am not sure if i can handle that.)
Stoney Wage Slave 