What am i going to do now? i havent posted a livejournal since april of 2008? it seems like its been WAY LONGER. Anyways, i just took my final for physics 2 and now i have the summer to be free... except for this dirty stewart marchman shit. what the hell am i going to do with myself? binge drink until fall? build a boat?
im getting tired of everyone i know making plans to hang out with me and then calling 5 minutes beforehand to break them. or just neglecting to call back or answer the phone. it happens so much that im not surprised in the least when it happens, but still i'd go so far as to say that it's uncool.
last night Hard Harvey pissed probably in his pants. his head was big and his skull was hairy. his eyes shone brilliantly as he mosied amongst kin; his hockey puck balanced delicately atop a green green christmas tree. he boned up on his game and honed in on a hotty. sultry was the atmosphere. Classical music snuck in through a window frame with the neighbors to blame. I thought of Coach "Chode" Stose. A felon sellin' melons and Alan arrived clad in their sundays worst. when asked why he was selling melons and Alan, he replied simply, "they go well together." Darin Noe cracked a code for the first time ever. "BOTTOM BUNK" was all she wrote...
so this is my last entry. im thinking about deleting my blog.
this week should be fun. and this weekend should be fun. i'll kill time until the fun by running and reading, at the same time. on the beach so i dont have to pay attention to whats in front of me. wish me safety. this should be interesting.
WHAAAAAAAAAA?!!!!!!!!! you guys will never guess what happened to me today. i went into THE one and only ART LINKLETTER's house to investigate some bloody skunk carcasses i found in his yard.
As I snatched a saturated satchel of skunk skulls with skill from beneath a sinkfull of stinky skinks, my heart sunk; A girtle-clad Art Linkletter locked up a loggerhead turtle he had confused for a fictitious squirtle. Avenging the skunks, I screamed at Art, "BITCH TITS!" and murdered. Bill Cosby showed up at the funeral, (per usual) confused a bull, CHEATED to ensure that against a man, a monkey would loose a duel, and used a tool to bruise a mule. Plus, the actions upon a flamingo which he did choose were cruel. The whole thing made me wonder why the hosts of Kids Say the Darnedest Things are such animal abusin' fools; When I had the nads, I asked Cosby. Here's where it started getting really weird. One foot from my face, he placed a cell-phone call to me. he said "You should be put in your place." Then he took a hit of freebase, and gouged the eyes from the face of a passing-by fly. frightened, I increased the space between cosby and i and reached for my mace, when in came Ma$e. Baring a white envelope, he said "Here's your taste." So i have 70,000 dollars that ma$e gave me. It's tight. Now i could care less about the whole Bill Cosby and Art Linkletter deal.
anyways bitch, today i'm going to have 2 beers. good ones. then im gunna kick your ass. then im gunna greg murphy out on a Phd. then im gunna get buck momthafuckin wild. then im going to film season one of Flavor of Buck Wild. J/w, on the phrase "drunk as a skunk," how drunk exactly is a skunk?
birthday partied down last night. lol chris cowles kept fuckin knockin this kid out in various ways. the best was when he punched him and then he lay lifeless, still balanced on a stool. i knocked out a bug after that. keg stands and pizza, what more could i ask for?
note to Little Undergod: piss on a vending machine buttons and inside so when they get their chips theyre all pissy. pull this prank on dave chavelle and perry pruuuiiiiitt.
i met a burnt gypsy on saturday
for all you hoes on a mastadon- Dro is weird. take and suck this bong and youll get with it, like a minced meat cove on shit. i had to beat my dads ass yesterday because he was frontin' about my chips on a sunday and being a punk bitch.
ive been painting all the airplanes, work is fun, what the fuck. William Thomas Eckenrode IV is quitting like a puss, but home boy who strangely none of my other friends know is getting hooked up fat with a job at my job, so i'll still be workin with a friend which makes it way cooler. and im getting more more dollars dollars, plus i "get money on tha block," as they say, while im on the clock.
friday was fuckin sweet, got off work, chilled with kate jocelyn and eric, 3 goods. then zac and lindsay and genny, shout out to genny, then i went to a sweet little hotel party. man i went to a place where black people have lots of drugs and met the craziest fucking guy of all time, cant understand a damn word he says, but that doesnt matter.
this is too public.
i just got my finger slammed in the door of a truck and now there is blood coming from under my entire fingernail.
lol hey you agricultural specialists out there in manchester, how bout i smoke a bronze hottie in front of your mother and then spackle a nerd? would you like it? it might just be wretched enough to let an episoede of bellair plaza air on nickel loadeon, but in any case ill bring a dungeon across the border of mi casa so cross your fingers for luck busters. Shannon Gallico, you rock.
Chicken is good, and good as fuck at that. i might go to pittsburg and come back in a year ballin' like a rockafeller. i know i can do it thats the beauty. i can't wait for these huge stacks of money to come my way. i want a license very badly. i love cars. lil wayne loves guns weed triggers and bitches and claims that the thicker the bitch is the bigger the brick is. hes quite a lyricist. once he claimed about himself "young dictionary, make words make sense." Definitely some poetic talent, just admit it S!dd.
im so bored that i just called dave and tried to buy his sock drawer because i claimed that mine broke. as if his sock drawer would even fit into my dresser. and then i said peace in the faintest voice. now im about to hit the mall and tear it down, spendin chips pimpin. im gunna buy a fat ferrari and a gold black person statue with a bad can of soda that's ancient and crappy.
HEY, JUSTIN, HOLD UP... THATS THAT BITCH WE FUCKED!
saturday ill be wasted apon arrival at the most outrageous party of all time. hopefully alan will come out of hiding for it. its going to be the biggest, best, drunkest slam dunk of a party eva and im kickin myself until saturday. pics! i hope i member a camera. money money money. if you see me in the streets you can holler im cool, and if its bout dollars ima hollar at you.
OH YEA im so stoked its april and a cadillac is going to be mine within months!!!! :D
lol heres the phone conversation. "hello?!" "hey mike" "hey SPINE" "what did you just call me?"
at this point i realized it was Sam, not Sabrina. so it was even funnier. Have you ever answered a phone call from someone you barely know and said hello like a rapid old lady annnd then called them a 'spine'?
"Spine." i responded. "Uh, do you have any bud?"
i'll leave the rest to your imagination. One which was a much stranger conversation took place yesterweek when i stumbled across the path of RIP TIDE, who had appanretly been getting into some kind of hallucinogens. i recall the conversation quite well.
He was like, "Whats goin on to me? im probably just getting accustomed to pointy pencil tips from sal sal sal sal a coat made of rope is fuckin sick. rip tide told me that god knows me and rip and then went surfing with a pistol." i said what the fuck are you talking about doggy? and he roared back at me with a spine numbing line. "Piss the pants of a pure bread panda, and thou shalt be wiggin. then i said rip tide, are you on black seeds that come from flowers?" Low and behold, rip tide was eating the seeds of a thousand morning glory's as he turned back to me with a wide-eyed look of dispair and shame on his brow. and the goldenrod tree tops shone apon him as an awakening dawned apon the horizon of his own mentality. "the irony of it is, mike," he said to me, with simultaneous fear and loathing evident in his voice, "that the underhanded schemes you concoct really only fuck you in the end, and more importantly, fuck you, the end."
Leaned the fuck back in my 'Lac Deville as i wrap mis manos around that zebrano WOOD through my HOOD like i SHOULD at 5 M.P.H, feelin like I'm N.B.A, status like i'm the raddest badass cuz i'm ballin and crawlin on stock wheels and everybody holl'rin i got skills, so killer.
im getting a cadillac deville by next year try to see me
partied down with zac and lindsey and dave and tommy and some goons, and then i partied down the next night with ant and joc and mike leone and shawn kayle and some crack whore, so i chilled with a lot of cool cats i havent seen in a while. excellente.
and i decided to get ill with it at the skate park and landed a nasty bigflip that was so sick it made your terminal illness look like a common cold. heres a big flip. but mine was better. i'm awesome.
I'm going to take a nap and then im going to DAM a drainage pipe and skate it like a fullpipe. its by kates house. and im gunna knock on kates door and see if shes home. and she's gunna give me a thousand dollars because shes a hoe and i make her grilled cheese sandwhiches and she still drinks all my beer when im not around. but just kidding because she bought me the beer so like i really cant complain. and then i dont know what im gunna do.
have you ever dammed any sort of flowing water? probably not. me neither. it'll be cool. its gunna feel like a sweet accomplishment because ill have to wig out and dig up all this dirt and put it in garbage bags and block the water and then sweep all the water out of the pipe so i can skate in it. i love it. its gunna be mad beaverish.
hey fan blades. whatup. i got a job. i paint airplanes, like this! no, i didnt paint that. that ones from a long time ago. but that there shop is where you'll find me. its friday, cool. lets hang out this weekend, friends. and i have a non-smoking yet smoking hot gf with the biggest 2-decade-young brains you ever heard about that i miss miss miss and want ta talk to about the most disfunctional bike that ever got locked up on the ucf campus on the literal.
"pardon me, but Hal Valera is a gut sucking fuckass without any sense about him!" shouted the discombobulated yet overzealous receptionist from Sri Lanka, who by the way, has been gut sucker behind the scenes since 1984. "Let he who is without sin literally cast the first fucking mountain lion-severed ass," replied an abominably fanciple car salesman in a bright green leather pant which was thin, far too thin, so thin that you could slap his balls through the pant. he was also sporting a leaf in his hair without even knowing it. "Your pant makes me want to take a road trip to Napal, and then perform a perfect swan dive off a 10 story building into a vat of acid," I exclaimed while concocting a mixture of piss, ho's, and and bitches in a 30 foot cereal bowl. Just then something a little bit strange happened. Bob sagget busted in, vigorously jerking a handsaw back and forth, hollaring, " HERE's an example of where paint has covered terminal pins!" "Wull dat's not paint, dats blood, and taint no terminal pin neither, its your own daddy!" was the exasperated reply of a newlywed undergrad from southern alabama. Sagget responded, "Most electrical damage can be found by visual inspection, bitches." Although Bob Sagget was shouting irrelevant shit about electrical shit, there were far more important matters at hand. Hot hoes were under seige, and most idiots believed that only carl winslow could save them now. He jumped at the opportunity to capture bob sagget for a fifty fucking million dollar reward offered by Obama bin laden, harrolded by the new york times as the next Charles St.Aangelos. A once healthy, wealthy and wise nigger, Carl winslow was now a decrepit female hag with no chance of capturing a strapping, well greased Bob Sagget, and all causes was lost.
i finally got a cell phone that works. 386 366 1881 . everybody call me at once. if i dont answer its probably because i hear it ringing but i cant see it even if its right in front of me because its so small.