BACH IN BLACK!

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!

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

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

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

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

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