To his genitals…
“Well, it finally happened. I blew my dick off. I was driving around bumping “Sketches of Spain” by Miles Davis and then “The Great Milenko” by ICP just to even things out, and I was smoking a bong by myself because I’m a sad, lonely rebel… and I had my lighter tucked under my balls for quick access… and I farted. The ensuing explosion destroyed my driver’s seat and also blew my nuggets to smithereens. So I guess I have to start doing heroin now like DJ AM. Rest in Peace homies.”
Actual photo of the accident.
And they sound FANTASTIC…
“Been jamming a bunch recently with my new band, The Blackberry Scones. Our first single is called, “Kiss Me ‘Til You Miss Me” from our album “I’m Writing A Letter To The Editor Of Your Heart.” We suck.”
That scone is going to spill everywhere you idiot.
Diversify. That’s how…
“You’ll probably never meet another person like me, because I doubt anyone else can explain the psychological importance of the title of the Dishwalla song, “Counting Blue Cars” in one sentence (we notice things the more we think of them, i.e. if you look for blue cars, you’ll see a bunch despite them only being only 9% of the car population) and then in the next sentence, explain to you what crack smells like when it’s being cooked (filthy gym socks in boiling water). If you can get to a level like this, you’ll make yourself indispensable to society, and then you’ll be able to behave however you’ll please. Couples will debate inviting you to cocktail parties and decide in your favor, comfortable in the knowledge that at best, you’ll entertain the crowd and fuck lonely Stacy… and at worst, you’ll come out of the bathroom with your shirt tied in a knot over your beer belly and your pants down. Indispensable.”
Whether or not this story is true (it isn’t), he sent this video, so happy Columbus Day everyone:
“Columbus Day reminds us that there’s no such thing as being lost, so long as when you get anywhere you act like you meant it and then kill everyone. This is a song my friend wrote about Columbus Day right before he died of Feline AIDS. His brother made this video of pictures of him before his death from Feline AIDS to commemorate his prior Feline AIDS-free life. Please to enjoy.”
Here’s the video:
And what follows makes perfect sense…
“Tonight I ate some mushrooms, watched the Presidential Debate and then went to a concert. What a night. Here are some things I realized:
1. One day I want to be one of those people they mention when they’re like, “I met a school teacher in Reno the other day, and she was dead. But I spoke to her via a medium and a Ouija Board. And she said we need more teachers.” I want to be that dead woman.
2. I want to make a blog called “When Hipsters Cry” that is simply pictures of hipsters crying. They’re all a bunch of bitches anyway so I bet we can do it. Did you know that people who are ACTUALLY COOL don’t want to live in Brooklyn anymore because they have dipshits on trust funds with rolled up jeans and projective personality disorders looking at them with scowls as they walk down the street? True story. My friend is a super cool Norwegian music video director, and he’s moving out because he’s tired of kids rolling their eyes at him while he makes cool shit happen and they have their parents beeping through on the other line trying to loan them money… AGAIN.
3. I’m going to start lifting weights again, get up to 205, grow my hair out JUST PRECISELY to the length where it requires berets (sp?) and then start wearing them in my hair, taking time to pin back my locks with my beautiful weightroom muscles while I block someone’s view at a clown college graduation or whatever it is I’m watching.
4. Did you know that if you’re on mushrooms at a concert and you go in the bathroom, the sound of people peeing and pooping will actually perfectly mimic the beat of whatever song is playing> Try it!
Oh that’s all? Thank God.
Genius. Pure genius.
He’s not a fan…
“The next chick I’m with that sings that fucking Adele song, “Someone Like You” is getting dropped off in a Church’s Chicken parking lot with no way to get home and no money for biscuits. If I wanted to listen to someone cry about their ex-boyfriend I would call my gay friend Gay Mark. Save that shit for someone who cares. I’m trying to get my D sucked and watch football later, and you’re only invited to one of those things. I wish nothing but the worst for you.”
“Fuck Church’s I’m going to Five Guys, luv!”
Or else something ridiculous will happen to you…
“If you’re ever in a cafe (kill yourself) and you think you recognize an Asian woman sitting by herself from some porn you watched recently, don’t go up to her and say that to her, even if the only reason you’re in the cafe in the first place is that you haven’t slept in three days and you’re pretty sure special agents are following you and you figure this is perhaps your last chance to pay your respects to a great porn actress. Because what might happen is that you were wrong, and that where you really recognize her from is the time you fucked her so hard in 2010 that her Dad had to come over and play her favorite piano quintet to wake her up, and that she’ll throw her stupid-ass mocha chubby girl drink all over your HANDSOME face. And then there you are, embarrassed at a Coffee Bean, again.”
I don’t really consider Coffee Beans to be cafes, but whatever floats his boat…
“One day, a man will love me for me…”