Brotherhood of the Travelling Tiki Mug

BACH IN BLACK!

2007-11-14T16:38:00.000-08:00

HAPPY FIRTHDAY EVERYONE!

p.s. it is not colin firths birthday, just a day to think about what it would be like if today actually were his birthday, or firthday, if you will.

Meticulous Notes on a Personal Turmoil, with Sunsplashed Reggae Beats!

2007-08-24T12:43:00.001-07:00

Sean Kingston, you win, alright you win, it won't escape me, it's there all the time, please make it stopp, will ya! will ya!

Screech's Meth Induced Celestine Prophecy

2007-08-22T14:03:00.000-07:00

Fuck U, Shine 901, you little bitch, don't write ur shittie shitfucks on my g-d-damn billding no more. I c ur dumb shit all ova town and it makes me wanna kill u w/ my mind. I saw u when u wrote dat shit, and i shoulda murked u then, u mark-ass bitch, but i didn't cause i thought u wuz joey gazelleing it in the shadows. fucked me on that you know, but you were right at least that one time, well it's not then anymore and i know what u look like even tho u look like all dese otha cowirds in the oak. fucks, sucks, cupcake.

Hazlewood, Hazelwood, Halzewood, DEAD

2007-08-06T14:52:00.000-07:00

this guy is dead, but when he wasn't dead, he was awesome and he still probably is awesome in death but it's too soon to evaluate corpse raddness, it all boils down to how the bones settle together and get along with the rats after all.

Man, this kinda muzik gets me all heated. I wanna call it baroque heroin pop country schmaltz de-luxxx, but that seems too reductive. fuck a label anyway. dude did his shit proper, was a stone cold weirdo (see left). Some Kind of spiritual node on which scott walker, glen campbell, gainsbourg, and maybe leonard cohen and dion when they were getting alhambra's afro poofed son to threaten their lives with reverb and echo. Cowboy in Sweden is my jam from 93 til infinity (or more like it last night till this (velvet) morning). Weep, stolid munchkin.

RIP LARRY BIRD JOHNSON

2007-07-11T16:57:00.000-07:00

at first i was sad cause i thought that the long rumored super hybrid of larry bird and larry johnson had finally been completed only to die, like a child with the heart of a baboon, much too soon and without the poignant poetry (poignantry?). Then i squinted more and saw the truth, this fecund beast of yore had not yet been girthed but had in firth been spake of a first lad! Now i have never hid the fact that LBJ is my fav prez, except when i insisted it was either nixon or rutherford b. or the gay one, but now that i am officially old, i have settled into the knowledge that the president who made a point of whizzing on the white house lawn in front of reporters gets a lifetime uno spot. his bitch was riddickulusly named and for this her fertile womb of privilege and repression shall be missed even though i could have sworn she died in like 95 or some shit, i mean she was fucking 94 for the love of anthony anderson. but alas i could spend all day relating the 93 other things that happened today but i have already cried 92 tears over it and well i am pieceing out of this bitch in roughly 91 blocks of 5 seconds.

ps also discovered while googling for images that larry johnson is also the name of some football asshole from the chiefs and that my beloved UNLVhornet was not alone. sucks. he only got one pic on the first page of results from g00gle. sad!

I Think I Saw a Vomiting Crab, or: Too Many Windows, Not Enough Cigarettes

2007-06-19T14:48:00.000-07:00

The morning coffee continues to pulse through me with a fluidity unrivaled by its peers. Two burritos over the last 24 hours and nothing else cant help either, but its the principle of the matter (or slush, if you will) that haunts me. I spend countless hours pondering its texture, revelling in its myriad of shades, its cobblestone / puzzle patterns, little dark brown nodules attached to sepia swathes of crumbling integrity, the scent measured out with the overpowering oranganic spray that every loo in the billding gotz. Yes, it has been a glorious work week for bowel movements.

A Patty Melt Covered in Flies

2007-06-05T15:13:00.000-07:00

Like Oates without a Mustache or Like Magic without the HIV?

2007-05-16T12:03:00.000-07:00

Drip . . . Drip . . . Umlat . . . Drip . . . Drip. The smells are pungent but indirect, maybe if i coward on the magicians it will make sense. guest starring timothy carey as the world's greatest sinner. Sometimes you get the right perspective to parse through all the nonsense and visualize the shaking ass of an R and/or B superstaress floating in front of you like a globe beach ball levitating in front of the ghost of wade boggs. Drinking 42-78 beers on a cross cuntree flight is some kind of american dream, but maybe not mine, yet . . . I still insist on being THAt guy when it all boils down to the insensitivity of the tall man towards the less tall man. Careful wording prevents 13 out of 37 office accidents. I haven't bled in a while, i need to get myself into a situation where that isn't the case. I am taking recommendations below. Tell me how to bleed. I need to bleed. Either that or I need to watch the movie Norbit again, same bready undercooked burgers different hallucinatory hammerpanted plasticine spokesmonster of the future. I demand a natural cure to my ailment that THEY ARENT TELLING ME YOU US THEM ABOUT! do you recommend a particular froot? A loop? a needle and a whistle? I probably just need to start playing basketball again. Torpor Grace aint got nothing on me, but he does have something on a bloody rag in a hallway that he calls his face. You simply cannot stop this bum rush, it is some kind of impossibility, like being attracted to Fergie.

Mo Betta Meaty Meaty Burger, Too!

2007-05-14T16:18:00.000-07:00

It's a kind of tragedy that a man can't take a shit wherever he damn well pleases and not get harassed by somebody tapping them on the shoulder and "politely" pointing out that that is their shoe and could you please go behind a bush or something and when you do get up, you realize that somehow in the process you got an asshair stuck somehow inside the aglet and it hurts boy it hurts, but you gotta move cause you been called out so you go and you find somewhere else and you squat and squint and the moment's passed, you can't get anymore out. Well, that's the way today has gone at work, except i'm by mice elf up here without a springer or a greco feeding on all kinds of different hangoverz (I count 7 for me now, could go up or down in next half hour). I am getting stupider every day, but at least, now all my laundry is clean. I d3mand refreshments and rubbing alcohol. Next time, I explain how to read in three simple to read paragraphs specially designed for the amateur reader (no reading experience readquired). READ.

p.s. remember those "hip" READ library posters from the earlyish 90s it's killing me trying to think what Stipe was reading but it was a laugher oh yes it was.

Sometimes Your Placenta Gets In The Way, Sometimes The Strands Hang Just Right

2007-05-01T11:22:00.000-07:00

So a marching band on Magnum PI is playing the Monty Python theme song, but this is the least of our problems. It is only a beginning. The mug is in Paris right now, likely sitting in a sink and smelling mildly of gin and/or tonic, or collecting fungi at a prodigious rate immaterial to the neatness of its prim and proper owner. So things here didn't go quite as planned, but nothing ever dies on the internet, an elephant graveyard for mouth breathers and high falutin' motherfuckers in kind. the mug was passed, but no one else ever kept the torch of "BLOGGING" about it here. So it goes. I was perplexed to find this site ungoogleable, hence the revival. hence the aborted. hence the rectal relocation (it's on my ankle now, so much more sanitary). If I were to summarize why I have done this or why you should care, it simply boils down to this . . . being bored at work. CHUELZZZ! LOOK FOR MORE BIG UPS IN THE 2K7! HISTORY IN THE MAKING!

SPLAYED GRUNIONS ON THE WINDSHIELD MAKES THE REST OF US BELIEVE THAT JESUS MUST BE THE QUESTION IF ALLEN IVERSON IS THE ANSWER

2006-02-09T15:20:00.000-08:00

So, uh, "Ghetto Cowboy" by Mo Thugs Family is basically the greatest song ever.

Count down until I turn this into an mp3 blog in 12 . . . 11 . . . SIDS . . . .

The Lyrics to "Don't Fight It" By Kenny Loggins Featuring Steve Perry

2006-01-26T16:49:00.000-08:00

Live long enough you're bound to findMoonshine'll make a man go blindNever can tell what the brew will doBut there's times you'll wind up feelin so fineSome women seem to have a knackThey'll turn you on and leave you flatNever can tell who's playin for keepsSo tell me now what's holding you backI know your heart can take itDon't fight itDon't fight itDon't fight itIt'll do your heart so goodDon't fight itDon't fight itDon't fight itIt'll only do you goodDon't fight it'll do your heart so gooddo what mama doDo what daddy doWhen you gonna make up your mindYou can run but love will find youReady or not here it comesSome people when they hear a grooveShake their heads cause they just can't approveWell I turn up the music till it's shakin the skyIs everybody ready to moveThere's times you wanna shake yourselfThere's nights you wanna yell for helpYou can fly when you're standing stillN there's nothing wrong with raising some hellTonight we're gonna raise itDon't fight itDon't fight itDon't fight itDon't fight itDon't fight itDon't fight itDon't fight it'll do your heart so goodDon't fight itDon't fight itDon't fight itDon't fight it

p.s. listen to this song always, nothing in human history except maybe stay fly can touch it.

Severed Chickenheads from the DOLLARSTORE

2006-01-18T19:11:00.000-08:00

OK, so I like totally drank a whole bottle of shaw (cab sauv cause all the good shit is gone already duh and I never just buy all shiraz like i should because I love the man too much to believe that any of his children could not be worthy of me dropping my 2 (or 3 in bullshit ass new motherfucking england) buxxxx) and it was the most delicious bottle of shaw I have ever drank. It was a glorious time. I sat around stoned off bong resin listening to steely dan rekkids and contemplating what a waste my life has become while furiously pawing at the remote control in the hopes of the beard of chuck norris making an appearance. ANYWAYZ, I also bought a sweet orange tikihead candle that I will totaaly post some sweet picture of after I figure out how to reduce the quality enough and the html and all that shit that you fucks with yr abilities and awareness take for fucking granted from young schloubs like me that make their livings with their hands. and after that purchase, I formed a new band called "Crack Team" with three of my friends who will have their first practice after I post this. We wrote three songs last night, "Glow in the Dark Tattoos" which is about glow in the dark facial tattoos (ITS A METAPHOR), "A Hit Among Gay Bloggers" which is about mustaches, and "Mini Mart Moments" which is the song I will use to woo the new hottie who works the counter at the mini mart. All the songs contain threats of bodily harm to those who refuse to sell us drugs, including our own beloved RACIST DAVE. It is a glorious time to be alive. House Music fills me loins with girth.!!!.!

Opening the Vagina for Birth

2006-01-08T17:53:00.000-08:00

This will be the greatest blog ever. Just like Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants, but with dumb guys and a stolen tiki mug instead of girls with low self esteem and magic pants. We will send the mug around once a month or so among the 4 hallowed members who will all document their exploits with the mug (and with the hardships of being a young woman in spite of all) here. This idea will run out of steam in two weeks. R. Kelly just came up on shuffle, it's a sign from god.