fucking around....

as usual.

just got back from a gig at the mule pub. it didn't suck too bad. i guess.

i promised someone i would write a blog. so here it is. to all you losers out there anxiously awaiting what i have to say.

i don't know what it may be. nor do you. shall i bash on toby keith. i think not. been there. shall i rant on hollywood's lack of an original idea? i.e. bad news bears, bewitched, charlie and the chocolate factory, etc. etc. etc.... fuck that. done that.

maybe i should just type and wait for that stream of consciousness. that neverending flow of genius that seems to come sometime late in the night on one to many beers and a few jack in the box tacos mixed with a ice cold koolaid and a dip of snuff. yes. it is here. i can feel it oozing out of me like that shit that was in that stretch armstrong dude. that shit that was poison if you ate it, but yet somehow made for a cool ass toy. fuck toys. eat dirt. that's where it's at and you all know that. don't even act like you didn't eat no fucking dirt.

dirt rules.

so...

right now i'm staring at this picture of a waterfall. it makes me want to pee. so i'm going to.

ten minutes later.

my cat is looking at me funny right now. it's as if she's saying, "what the fuck are you doing?" don't worry about it you fucking cat. the cat's name is kitty. go figure.

sometimes i call it dog just to see what it does. it usually looks at me and then starts licking her snatch. that's what i'd do if i was her too.

i watched oprah today. she had kirstie alley on there. she got an extreme makeover on her kitchen. just what she needs.

i started wondering how much weight that oprah and kirstie alley have lost and gained together. it has to be in the thousands.

a car just drove by my house real slow. it's fucking 2:30 in the morning. i'm going outside to investigate.

call 911 if i don't come back,

scott