if you a gutter motherfucker do your dirt
Who invited Snow Patrol to suck so much? Not me. They're as unwelcome as ants at a picnic.
Ice Cube featuring Lil' John, however, I can handle. So angry. Makes me want to smash stuff, but just like old t.v.s and stuff, not stuff people are still using. That would be too rude even for me.
We are coming dangerously close to beating the record for coldest day in November. Mad props to El Nino and his cousin Globabl Warming for this awesomely outrageous November of icy death. One has to love the promise of a forecasted high of -42 on monday...high...-42...right. It's double cold as it's s'posed to be. Double true. On the plus side i've managed to beat the system (and by system i mean pipes) and have orchestrated a scheme to prevent my pipes from freezing. Then i'll take Berlin.
I guess the silver lining is the added element of danger one can glean from walking home drunk in such conditions knowing that nap in the snowbank could become a snowy grave ever so fast. And i dig on danger. Kind of. Vaguely.
This online radio station from Atlanta is making me want to go to a dance party in a pretty big way...one with rappers. Southern rappers.
My back broke again, and I think the colourful and festive combination of codeine, muscle relaxants, and residual demerol in my system is making me lose my competitive edge, if i ever had one. That might be another opiate-induced delusion. But i'd rather be lame than have the stabbing jabbing crushing pain in my lower back, i think. Maybe not though. Comedy is really all i have.
Oh it's cold outside, and i'm a little scared of the Black Frost rolling up in my steez. Just a little. Mostly I'm high though.
Ice Cube featuring Lil' John, however, I can handle. So angry. Makes me want to smash stuff, but just like old t.v.s and stuff, not stuff people are still using. That would be too rude even for me.
We are coming dangerously close to beating the record for coldest day in November. Mad props to El Nino and his cousin Globabl Warming for this awesomely outrageous November of icy death. One has to love the promise of a forecasted high of -42 on monday...high...-42...right. It's double cold as it's s'posed to be. Double true. On the plus side i've managed to beat the system (and by system i mean pipes) and have orchestrated a scheme to prevent my pipes from freezing. Then i'll take Berlin.
I guess the silver lining is the added element of danger one can glean from walking home drunk in such conditions knowing that nap in the snowbank could become a snowy grave ever so fast. And i dig on danger. Kind of. Vaguely.
This online radio station from Atlanta is making me want to go to a dance party in a pretty big way...one with rappers. Southern rappers.
My back broke again, and I think the colourful and festive combination of codeine, muscle relaxants, and residual demerol in my system is making me lose my competitive edge, if i ever had one. That might be another opiate-induced delusion. But i'd rather be lame than have the stabbing jabbing crushing pain in my lower back, i think. Maybe not though. Comedy is really all i have.
Oh it's cold outside, and i'm a little scared of the Black Frost rolling up in my steez. Just a little. Mostly I'm high though.