A blog? For me?
Take it in theThu, September 20, 2007 - 12:19 AM
Your shit doesn't matter, only mine. I'm you, you are me, i don't knows on 3rd base, screw the mets, lets go catch a donkey show.
Save my ass! Plug it in to the universe and flip the switch maybe more will make sense than when the monkeys jump and dance on the table wanting beer and haggis, and all I have to offer is cow meat...toxic, twisted tied up in knots. They know better, they know better and wonder what the hell I'm thinking to injest poison so knowingly, just because it comes with fries?
Dirty twisted words for a dirty twisted world. Bend it any way you like, it still seems like Over to those of us caught in the cracks, but not yet slipped through...
Enjoy your time in the rain, dance in it too. Some time near we may have to swim, but so long as we danced we'll always have the konga line we had on the lawn when the story broke about the No More and the Even Less giving up and packing it in, When They Call it a day you've done been done in, by no particular sin except letting Can't or Won't or No Proof Of That become excuses for not prepearing better a epitaph than What The Hell Was That Noise?
Do something different, and no screwing around. Make more of this matter than it does right now and you mihgt a a chance to show how much it mattered later. Otherwise all thats hows is that it didn't matter then or now, and lucy reruns are on again, so max out the TiVo and drool through through your word pipe. School is out.
You ain't king of the world, you made your own crown.
Not only that, you are wearing it on the wrong end, if your vocabulary is any indication. Bass ackards is how you were borne and raised, and yes, my Momma did better than yours. This poo I fling isn't mine, I'm just returning to sender. Returning the favor with the flavor of the month
Wash your soul out with soap...won't take long...some people need a moral compass... moral GPS and sherpas wouldn't help some others. And they are the ones who want Top Cat spoticus like Jesus sat there last and it's now his turn.Barter for martyrs, and see who falls next. Spin the foreign policy bottle and see who has to go hide ina closet next before they come prancing out proclaiming all smiles, while behind them the skeltions tell tales of their days in the dark with the Man With The Plan.
Flexy bendy skeletons, laffalympics,charter boats to play on....All I can se can sicken me n a blink from my eye is just not gone when I wake, so what's a man to take when he sees what he sees, hears what he hears and the fears all he can fear? The hyperactive monkey box knows, fearful yet needing numbness he chooses, pops one and waits for the "approved" medications to rock his brain like a train undergoing The Change. Type in the dark stabbing at keys, seeings ome, remebering others, not making shit for sense, but having a good time, vaguely hoping he'll like it when he sees it and can read tomorrow..
Wheeee. Many happy medicinals to you all and to all a good pimp to splain what I wrote, cuz I learned that language on the Fly, girl. Zonin!
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A question, if I may bo so bold.
ave you got a hair caught cross-wisein some important place?
It's always been like this.
That's why I spend so much cash on 9mm ammo.
I own a .38.
|Duuno if I can explain that one sober or not. I'll try this weekend for some more "inspiration" and sleepless good times. Just don't tell your TiVo, it may think you're a looney for tuning to my channeling of the universal funkytown jingles.|
*****CrabbyAnn gives Malvado five shooting stars, and that's one more than swallowed under the New World Order TOU policy.