how's it hangin'?....

i just got through reading some stuff at the payne county line website. i won an award last year that i wasn't even aware of. 2004 texas singer-songwriter of the year. i lost this year to willie braun of reckless kelley, though. fuck em. i didn't get shit last year anyway. i didn't even know i won.

i saw on this artist's profile deal and they had my name on there and at the bottom it had a link to my blogs. it said, "Beware: X-rated blog".

are my fucking blogs x-rated?

that is fucked up.

i have been under the impression this whole time that they were only r rated. if they're x-rated, then i should be charging some goddamn money for this shit. $3.99 a minute or some shit. fucking x-rated. you've gotta be kidding me.

they act like all i talk about is buttfucking and cumguzzling.

i'm not fucking x-rated. fuck that.

calm down, scott.

no, you calm down motherfucker.

don't make me fucking beat you down again.

i'd like to see you try.

oh yeah.

yeah.

fuck you.

no fuck you.

cocksucker.

beat off.

pussy.

cunt.

it's alright ma, i'm only sighing.

i did some reading on some of the interviews on there. they interviewed everyone from fucking austin to stillwater except me. i read a bunch of those interviews. us songwriters are a bunch of goddamn blowholes. just blabbing away about nothing. i wish they'd interview me on there.

i think it would go like this:

Scott, tell us about how you got into songwriting?

me: i wrote a song and went from there.

Scott, can you tell us why no one in the texas red/dirt scene will record any of your songs and yet act like they're your best goddamn friend and won't even take the time to return your phone calls?

me: first off...fuck red dirt and fuck texas. fuck you too. those motherfuckers are scared of me and you know it. my songs are so goddamn above their heads it's not even funny. i shit songs better than any of those motherfuckers. do you really think i care if any of those frat fucks and party bands record my songs? fuck them. i don't need them. i don't need shit. i don't need this fucking interview either. you're fucking website blows.

oh yeah, we got 250,000 hits last year.

me: yeah, you and 249,999 other beatoffs.

you are really an obnoxious, arrogant prick. i can see why no one likes you and no one comes to your shows.

(sound of me farting and fanning it in his fat fucking face)

fanning it in his fat fucking face. there's some more goddamn alliteration.
i can't not write poetry.
that shit oozes out me like jelly out of one of those squeeze top jelly type fucking deals or some shit.

okay, back to the interview....

scott, why do you feel the need to get so fucking drunk all the time? don't you feel like your embarrassing yourself?

well, my general rule is: if i'm around people, i must drink heavily.
i feel it dumbs me down to their level and we can speak on somewhat equal terms.

why did you get into this business then?

me: because i hate work.

do you feel like your songs influence young people to smoke pot?

me: (sound of me firing up a big fattie) no, that is ridiculous.

what do you say to all those people who have accused you of being a woman hater?

me: shut the fuck up, bitches.

what are your goals?

me: to become ruler of the world.

( i then put a gun to my head and blow my brains out, but it was only a prank or some shit like that dude on f/x and the interviewer all freaks out and shit and calls the cops and then i disappear before he comes back and he starts crying like a little bitch but then i come out from behind a curtain and shoot a dart into his ass with a blowgun and he all passes out and shit and then i piss all over his face and leave.)

the end.

by the way, i finished the cd...

so there.

suck it,

scott