redman

god now i wanna take those philadelphia comments down, i didn't know how much HISTORY there was

i have no idea where this journal is going

but i like it more. it's easy on the eyes

"what's this, the VIP blog?"

apologies to philly, their weed isn't bammer. someone pointed out to me that the ROOTS are from there.

pre-philly update

i've replaced my morning coffee with the song bammer weed. with just one listen, i am pumped and energized for the rest of the day

bay area rap makes me sad i'm leaving san francisco

don't gimme no bammer weed *just smoke that dank*
we don't smoke that shit in the sfc *just smoke that dank*
don't gimme no bammer weed *just smoke that dank*
we don't smoke that shit in the sfc *just smoke that dank*

let's go to the store so i can get some gin

(it's true though, philly has some straight up bammer weed and it's gonna suck)

-real life me

my screen door is open

and there's this cow that keeps mooing over and over, and usually i wouldn't even pay attention to it, but i'm just laughing like crazy because it's been like an hour now and it still hasn't stopped

the world reknown cure for depression

grandma and i were cooking dinner for the boys when a program on television had caught her eye. doctor thaddeus tritum had announced to us his world reknown cure for diabetes and arthritis. "this new cure has been blacklisted by all the drug companies because it is simply SO cheap!"

i wasn't really listening, i was busy cutting up carrots using my new tiger claw method, furiously cutting myself into paradise. chop chop chop chop chop...

when all of a sudden grandma threw a loaf of bread at the tv and yelled, "i don't need to pay for happiness! you see this girl right here chopping carrots? she makes me happy, and these boys make me happy, and my sunday afternoon doesn't need this garbage!"

talking dirty with my new wife

jane came home, slammed the door and threw her purse against the wall. she ripped off her clothes and came at me with ferocity. i gulped down the corn pops that were already in my throat and followed her as she took my hand and led me to the bedroom. after a scary intense pre-sex ritual (who the hell was this monster), she drove her tongue into my ear and emphatically said, "talk dirty to me baby!"

we started going at it and i started to laugh because i've known jane for six years now and never in that time has she been as sexually suggestive as today. so i tried to make her happy, but this was my sweet jane, my high school sweetheart, how could i make love to her while calling her a filthy cumbucket?

"j-jane you're a c-c-cunt"
"YES YES I AM VERN OH VERNON I AM YOUR FILTHY CUNT"
"um, yes.. yes, yeah ooh um, ooh"

my guardian angel would tell me later that that night i had the most bewildered look he had ever seen. i believed him

strange dream

had a dream that jackie and i were hanging out and as she was driving we made a turn and her cheek landed on my lips and my eyes widened a bit but all i could see was a very angry jackie brown that kept saying "what the fuck, what the fuck" and she took me home and was never to be seen again.

little did i realize that she was driving MY car. you're a crook, jackie brown

the reason

i keep telling people i'm taking art lessons is because


MY OWN ART IN MY OWN STORIES

literary masterpieces with visuals of the exact thing i am talking about no more ambiguity ever

hot pastrami kills stomach linings

ulcer evidence:
prop a and prop 195
"to enforce the legal and appropriate usage of grease in sandwiches, thereby increasing the effectiveness of stomach ulcers and stomach pains"

good god do those kids need to stop drinking soda good god do i need to eat some fruit right now

when the gentleman put on leg over his bikeseat in order to properly get himself up on his bicycle, we were treated to a beautiful action-packed
show

touchy feely

november is national novel writing month, and as usual, i have no idea what to write.


actually

this is the first time i've ever heard of the goddamn thing, but my lack of ideas and inspiration is definitely real. i was thinking about writing something about the end of the world in 2012, tying in mayan prophecies and all that, but i thought better of it. i was actually thinking about writing about my future, and if knowing what happens later will change what happens now. because it is the constant NOW

okay alan watts shutup

but that's what i'm planning to do this month with my free time. OH, and i'm taking some drawing lessons

warmth

dasha and i went to starbucks and while we were in line she pointed out this kid who was the boyfriend of corinna, who was this girl i obsessed over and i don't even remember why. there was this crazy lady that kept knocking people over in line asking if anyone drove an altima DOES ANYONE DRIVE AN ALTIMA and finally i fessed up to the crime and went outside to turn off my headlights.

dasha got a caramel frappuccino though it was goddamn freezing outside. i got a pumpkin spice latte, which makes me sad already because i don't know how i'll be able to cope with anything once they take that off the menu.

this girl who simply calls herself "die dyke die" messaged me on myspace a couple of nights ago, talking about "how to be an indie kid" and i immediately thought she was attacking me so i sent her four long-winded messages about how i was all coked up now and how she should leave me alone. i think i made some lesbian/le tigre jokes because i thought she was just like grace in the way that she was into all these chic electroclash bands and attire, but jesus christ is she not like her at all. which is a good thing, because i haven't even thought about grace for a while, and i think it's sort of funny that she's getting married or something soon. anyway, the point of this paragraph was to show the reader that the only reason i struck out at her was because she reminded me of grace, which reminded me of my past, and though i sometimes lie and act like i'm okay with the past, i do everything in my power to avoid it. and jesus christ did this girl know.

she (i don't even know her name) kept saying how i was her soulmate and that i was lagging behind, that my lack of myspace friends appalled her and that i wasn't all that fit to be writing a guide (on how to..). looking back on it, that is the exact fucking thing my soulmate would say to me, to get me on the right path, and i'm pretty much convinced that even though she messaged me just two days ago, she knows me better than anyone ever could. she read inbetween the lines and knew when to make me laugh. what a sweet kid. i should go visit her down in so cal sometime, she seems pretty lonely down there.

SO
last night i saw jackie and courtney and marielle and i was so goddamn drunk i really didn't understand the situation. i railed a line with becky and felt great for a while, telling the girls how much i missed them and everything that needed to be let out. goddamn social anxiety. but i woke up feeling okay, and i think i should be truthful to myself and just accept things for how they are. i'm starting to. i like drugs (she said the drugs like you), but i should probably find a way to limit myself in the future. it isn't real life, but it is, and supposedly my dream is to unite the two worlds, every two worlds that are separated by TRAUMA AND CHEMICAL IMBALANCE, to find that fucking balance that could put every heart at easee

it's a good feeling to know that i have no obligations to anything anymore. i can finally go to philly and get some cheesesteaks

today sounds good