snizz

a cracker is one who does crack. a crackhead is one whos head is made of crack. big difference YOU GAIS!

i watched that video of those kids flushing glowsticks. it was ok. not 'the best idea ever' as one anonymous youth so eloquently named it, but fun nonetheless. that stuff is like, crazy toxic though, so, enjoy your cancers dumbos. hope it was worth it.

(side note, it totally was)

redneck scientist says: expermint fail't!

now for car rants! YAAAYY!

ive always felt they should put a gas tank opening on BOTH sides of the car. it just seems like a good idea to me. i feel like a huge dickhole when i drive up to the station, and am like DAMN i pulled in on the wrong side.

also, there should be locks on gas tanks, cause its so easy to pee in them. some lady found a hamburger in her gas tank that messed up her car good. true story, the internet told me so. THE INTERNET PROVIDES. and NEVER LIES.

and now for a raps:

i got mad max rap attacks like

welcome to the thunderdome

you flow like a kid afflicted with down syndrome

getcha ass home

this is bidness for those that are grown

your funds is low

and you need a loan

but youre not approved

you are not smooth and you got no moves

and thats it.

word play and time travel.

no were not dating, hes a pastor.

pasture? like a field?

no, a pastor!

oh hes from the past, i gotcha. paster.

i feel bad for roofers. no one will sleep with them voluntarily.

if you wear a cardigan twice, youre wearing a cardigan again. HAHAHAHA

watcha doin?

makin tea

they made that letter already.

is this milk still good?

you mean like, morally?

that boys a bad bad apple.

well duh, hes a boy not an apple.

im so immaturity.

i had a coolish dream last night, where i had the special super power of going back in time, but i could only go back like five minutes. so i was at a big house party, with all kinds characters, and i wandered into this room where i saw my friend (a brown haired neil patrick harris?). we were shootin the shit when all of a sudden he began to have a heart attack. i ran out to the party and yelled for a doctor, and wouldnt ya know it a doctor showed up, lab coat and all, and after assessing the situation, pulled out some pills from the medicine cabinet and gave em to my friend. sadly, it wasnt quick enough, and my friend died. it was a real buzzkill for the party. i said f this noise, and used my super awesome time travel skills to go back in time, and im back inside the room with my friend, and instead of yelling for a doctor, i ran to the medicine cabinet and grabbed the pills! i looked awesome, all the partygoers (mostly girls, wink wink) were watching me be all intense, and the doctor was like, what are you doing? HOW do you know how to do this?? and my response was, CAUSE IM A FUCKING GENIUS, which delighted the audience. i shoved the pills in brown haired neil patrick harris' mouth and saved him from the heart attack.

i woke up feeling good at first, but the more i thought about it, the more i regretted messing with the fabric of time. brown haired neil patrick harris couldve ended up being a serial killer or something, and i would have let him live!

insert witty title here

im so bored i could cut myself.

the most exciting thing i do now is get drunk and yell at bravo's "work of art: the next great artist". f*cking hacks!

i guess i can take solace in the fact that everyone else around me is sad and miserable too. were a group of great underachievers. the best in the biz. the big cheeses, the head haunchos. honchos?

i need to work on my esthpanols.

i wish my life was exciting like the x-files.

a-dawg wants me to travel to europe with her. for like, months. it would be one of those 'once-in-a-lifetime' experiences everyones always talkin about. itd be downright magical.

but alas, the odds of me being financially secure by then are the same as me actually winning the lottery. which as of now is my obi-wan kenobi. you know, my only hope.

you have a face like an insect, it makes me sick

you like incest like flowers in the attic

your rap is wreck'd, stinks like fecal matter

you spit like diarrhea, splatter splatter

get some wet wipes, clean yourself up

scraped knees, youre little league, i win world cups

i got million dollar sneaks, you got dollar store flip flops

youre the gallagher of teen pop

im the mitch headberg of hip hop

rest in peace funny man

thats all i got for now.

superbitchin

i had a great life in new orleans. i had real feelings. ups and downs. i got drunk, i had memories, i made one of the best friends i ever had. we shared things. we grokked. i went outdoors. i saw beauty in everything. i had a fucking job that paid fucking rent. and i actually fucking liked it.

ever since moving to houston, ive been in a daze. the mediocrity is deafening. i watch more tv than ive ever watched, ive grown distant from my friends. i have a girlfriend, which is borderline fulfilling. but its not enough. everyone here doesnt want to be here. its a big slab of concrete lameshit. the best times i have are when im away from this place. i have a pathetic excuse for a job, things go wrong and i cant pay for anything. as of now i have a buck twenty to my name. i drink because im just SO FUCKING BORED. my dreams of school are distant, my progress is at a snails pace. im not doing anything, i cant get anything done, im in a pit of 'middleness'.

gosh darn FUCK.

the next post will be funny as hell. i do this for me.