Locksmith Eh?

I'll say it again, why does 7/11 have locks on their doors? Hey, why does our 24 hours branch have locks? I wonder if there are keys for it. There would have to be key, I think, yeah, there would. After not being used ever, would the keys even work? What if there was soo much dust and grit that should something happen like the 4 horsemen arrive, would they even work? What a kick in the pants that would be. Imagine you're buddy who has to lock the doors and you're fumbling with keys. Nice. You're dead, so, so dead. Imagine when they find your body, all wide eyed screaming and holding a key, that's embarrassing. Hey, if you had a really embarrassing injury, would you still go to the hospital? Like if you got stabbed in the ass by a rogue helper money while hanging from a tree branch, looking at the deformed yet mildly attractive (if she'd only wear a drool bib) neighbour. I know I wouldn't, well, I'd fabricate a story and get the details right in my head before I went. Those doctors can smell deceit, I'd have to have it pretty solid before I stepped foot in that hospital. I'd recomend you do the same.

The Three Musketeers

Wow, you three seem to have it under you hat. Not only do you not have your own blog but you harp on others' creativity and spew nothing but ignorance and slander. At times like these I ask myself, "What would his holiness do?" He some how makes it all better.

8 Mile? Naw, 9? Fo' Sho'

B Rad;

Man, I can't believe you did that to me, that's hella bootsy. We's supposed to be tight yo, letin' you roll up in my flossy-ass ride, vo for yo with my homs, not peepin when ya you playin' like yo a mac when you ain't nothin but a hood-rat splitin' skud. Yo act all gansta when you're really just a swanson. You better check it, Ese.

As for you, Policy Adjustment Accessory;

Your name is as whack as the dil piece you try to talk up. Bamma, go home and curl up with the latest Women's Weekly, shoot off some knuckle children and keep it on the DL. No need to lay all dat shit bare. You're lucky I'm all the way out in the cut. Hear me, I'll be Schmabbin’ next time you're ridin. And FYI, yo backpack is mega jankity, mega.

In closing, ya'll can shove it and get outta my grill cuz I ain't frontin', I'm more street than you can handle. We ain't cuzins no more, we aint even zucks. Wu Tang Mo' Fo's! Wu Tang.

Step Outside the Box... Suckaz!

I knew moving would be a hassle. Finding my stuff, packing my stuff and eventually unpacking it. God, what a bloody hassle. I really didn't count on my lazy factor. I just don't want to. The last thing I want to do on my day off is pack boxes. It's a total piss off. I think I've convinced Desert Fox to do it for me. Apparently all it'll cost me is $50. Now, which is stronger, my will to be ever so lazy, or my unbridled love for my money?

Hey B Rad,
Your mum called, she wants her life back.

In other news, I heard the best joke ever. I laughed for a long while. Next time you see Casanova, ask about the pizza joke. Hilarious with a capitol 'Heh.'

I Don't Eats Me Spinach

I just don't understand the cartoon Popeye. In know I've said it before and I'll say it again: it doesn't make sense. It's terribly annoying when other people, not Popeye, eat his spinach. Not only because it's theft and a guy's gotta eat but because they become strong. This should never happen and it's completely unrealistic, only Popeye and his immediate family should have this effect when downing spinach. If it wasn't then there would be no point in having a cartoon about him in particular because he would be no different than anybody else. And I don't watch cartoons about normal people who go to work 9-5 and who then have a leisurely supper followed by the evening news and then eventually bed. That's not entertainment. Wait, that's a bit harsh, it's not good entertainment. In other news, what an idiot.

Why You All Up in my Kool-Aid?

Hey B Rad:

Shove it.

That is all.

Wookie

I couldn't possibly fake interest in the Oilers. Everyday, some guy tries to make small talk at the counter and it's always, "Going out to watch the game?" I used to humor them, smiling and saying things like, "Go Oilers" or "Who isn't?" But there's always that one who starts talking about who scored what, who's gonna score what and who's gonna win what. That's where I cut him off. I love the look of pure unfiltered, seeping disappointment. If I can ruin just one person's afternoon, it's been a good day.

I caught about 10 minutes of one of the Star Wars movies yesterday. How the hell did Jaba the Hut wield soo much power? You've got to be kidding me, a little salt and Chewy's king. I did however discover a new word. I'm going to casually drop the word 'Wookie' into daily conversation. My plan isn't complete but the rough drafts calls for lines like, "That's soo Wookie, eh?" and "Very Wookie." I can see the big picture. Your children's children will be saying it. Just you wait.

Raise the Roof

Unless you're a church go-er, Sundays are not for you. There's nothing good on t.v. and for you who like to partay, nursing a hangover is high on your list. Boring! If you need me I'll be wondering around my yard searching for a rusty nail to prick my finger with. Maybe Tetanus is the excitement I crave.

Hey, maybe I'll make a slideshow...um...

Dinner For Two?

Um...did anyone else notice that the lady was eating her kid's food?

Let's Rock and Roll, or Something Like It

Who can forget Chef Aid of '99. There was Rancid, Elton John and Rick James...bitch.

I'm a no pulp kinda girl, you shouldn't have to chew your liquid refreshment. That being said...

I recently received an email from a friend of mine in BC. I haven't talked to her much as I'm cheap and don't want to pay for long distance. Why do people change once they move to the coast? They become hippies eating granola and sending tripe like this:

"Life is a stage and we are all actors playing our part in creating history. The future is anybody's guess. To right a wrong is what we should strive for and to give without expecting anything in return should be our religion."

...right. Did anyone else contemplate killing themselves while reading that? No, just me...damn...