Fuck You.

Hello, friends. I am taking a break from doing LAUNDRY. Goodbye.

Check out this pic I just drew:

Aaroneous Claims Trailer

A trailer for a movie about MC Aaron that will probably never get made. By my pal Anthony.

http://www.perspicaciouslog.com/homepage#!__homepage

I’m Out: RIP Non-Retirement

I should’ve stayed retired. Never should’ve come back into the game.

It’s like when Michael played on the Wizards. Did that really happen? We’ll pretend it didn’t.

BUT I do have a few last words. Grant me that.

1) When commenting on something on the internet, men should never write “Yay!”

2) I don’t want to play fantasy sports anymore, but I do, because I get convinced to play. I guess deep down I do want to play. But I don’t want to want that. What should I do? Please advise.

3) If 90210 was still on (and the new one doesn’t count), I bet Steve’s newspaper would be an online newspaper. And David would have a Myspace page for his music. And Val would be doing some sort of scam on the internet. But isn’t it weird that Steve ended up having a paper? You’d think it would’ve been Brandon. I wonder if Jason Priestly was pissed about that storyline. He probably was.

What I’m realizing is, this entire blog is conjecture. It’s worse than Wikipedia. Which isn’t really saying anything, because Wikipedia is awesome. It’s the best thing on the internet. If you want to read about a subject, always go to Wikipedia. If you Google it, you’ll find a billion unrelated bullshit items, or worse, some stupid blog.

Like this one.

Good night, my friends.

It’s time to bathe.

Word (insecurity?)

Goddam I can’t stand when someone writes a word and then after it writes “(sp?)”. ESPECIALLY when commenting on something on the internet. You’re on the freaking INTERNET. How about you just look up the spelling of the word? Or learn how to spell, bozo.

This world is going to SH*T (astrsk?)

Ironing Out the Deets

According to US magazine’s Loose Talk: What the Stars Said This Week, famed boxer Mike Tyson recently said:

“Tupac always wanted me to smoke weed with him, and I never did. That’s my biggest regret.”

Really, Mike? You know you raped someone, right? I’d think that would be your biggest regret.

Really? REALLY? Really. Really?? Really??? Really???? Really…

Real.

You Say It’s Your Birthday

Listen stupid, nobody cares about your birthday. Some people care, but they’re also stupid.

You don’t need to celebrate your birthday five times. You don’t need to get a bunch of people to go out of town to celebrate your birthday. Why are you so desperate for attention?

I’m not even talking to one specific person. That’s the sad part.

I just remembered that my 3/4 birthday is coming up. So fuck you, go get me a present, preferably something red! Good night sir!

Clichy

A week later, at the home of a Hindu dancer, I was introduced to an extraordinarily beautiful Danish girl newly arrived from Copenhagen. She was decidedly not “my type,” but she was ravishingly beautiful, no denying it. A sort of legendary Norse figure come to life. Naturally, everybody was courting her. I paid no obvious attention to her, although my eyes were constantly following her, until we were thrown together in the little room where the drinks were being served. By this time everybody, except the dancer, had had too much to drink. The Danish beauty was leaning against the wall with a glass in her hand. Her reserve had broken down. She had the air of one who was waiting to be mussed up. As I approached she said with a seductive grin: “So you’re the man who writes those terrible books?” I didn’t bother to reply. I put my glass down and closed in on her, kissing her blindly, passionately, savagely. She came out of the embrace pushing me violently away. She was not angry. On the contrary, I sensed that she was expecting me to repeat the attack. “Not here,” she said aloud.

-HM