"a little outta place, a little outta tune
sorta lost in space, racing the moon
climbin' the walls of this hurricane
still over all, i guess i can't complain." --t. snider

good afternoon and welcome to another service at the church of scott's thoughts.

it's been a while. i feel like i somewhat abandoned the church services, and i definitely do not want to do that. this is the good shit.

good shit...

so what can we explore today.

the seven levels of hell, the seven deadly sins, the greatness of john elway.
who knows?
i don't...

alright then...

15 minutes later...

i read back over some of my previous posts and i have decided that i may come across as a little jaded. just a bit askew.
i don't want in anyway to glamorize the slacker "fuck it" mentality that i so lovingly portray. there are certain things that you can't just say "fuck it" to. i realize this.

but the point is that there are a whole motherfucking lot of things that you need to say "fuck it" to. can i get an amen? amen..

i mowed the yard and weedeated about an hour ago. it's hot as fuck.


a friend of mine name mike mcclure wrote this song and told me it was the perfect scott copeland song and i told him it was not the perfect scott copeland song because he didn't say anything at all about,

weed,
or drinking beer,
or not working,
and he didn't even say 'fuck' one single time.

how can that be a scott copeland song?

i sat down and wrote another verse to the song and i felt obliged to include it on this here blog and the last verse goes like this here.

'get STONED, get DRUNK, and get LAID
be unemployed your whole life, but still get paid
fuck your job, fuck the police, and fuck the man
and say fuck it, fuck it, fuck it as much as you can.'

yep yep.

so getting back to the church services. i have an announcement to make.

'BIGNOGGAN T-SHIRTS ARE IN'

yes. you heard me right. please try and control yourselves.

i'll let you know more as things progress. whatever.

i'm just babbling. babbling on and on. not knowing where i'm going or for what reason i'm going for. lost in the wilderness. wandering aimlessly through sentence after sentence. searching for something that cannot be found. hidden in a vast array of nothingness. a needle in the haystack of life, but this is an invisible needle. okay then. still plodding through the muck, crawling in the shit, trying to gasp that last breath of fresh air that turns out to be poison fumes coming from the butthole of civilization. it sucks.... why go on?

because you must.

quitters never win and winners never quit.

that's why.

still plugging away at a monitor waiting for the key to life to magically appear. it never does and it never will. if you want the answer to the meaning of life. here it is as simply as i can put it down.

there ain't no such thing as a free lunch.

got it, get it, learn it, live it.

"my family was a picture of disfunctionarity" -- mike tyson

hallelujah,

scott