Monday, December 28, 2009

dip

What is a dip?

A dip is a dent in the road

It's also a dipswitch

She turned left, she's taking Leslie home - that's different

micro somethings you turn on or off position effects the way an electronic device functions

**

$20 million vacation days

thing s fom todayer

pants so tight you can tell the religion robin williams
stand up

nick

2nd haircut

check out my man
dolin

ee

**

veryday is a saturdaye

1th

7teenth

street

dancing hippies

DJ shares
psc ado
outwards!

(please stand claer all droods open OUTWARDS)

knowledge of death

Thursday, December 17, 2009

a million slippers

CHECK ME OUT NOW

house of a million strippers

the other day my dude zach was like yo

what if there were a million strippers on top of each other like a cheer leading pyramid

http://www.zshare.net/audio/6999357393da5bd2/ - Joe Buddens Escape Route track 2 yeah its that good QUALITY shit


tttt

http://www.zshare.net/audio/69994160b7cf84a1/ xsame shit






that one's called some shit
anit
http://www.zshare.net/audio/69995831d88209fb/
and this is called. fuck i'm not good enough

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

which brings me back to the point why do i care

??

dunno. Shit is wet.

like snow

***

I'm gonna put comic books on here. OOOOOH

lol

DONT TELL!
here's a freestyle http://www.zshare.net/audio/69992337d127a29f/ it's pretty grey

I think i've figured out my problem

What my problem is even though I am introverted I am also very analytical of everything that happens at the same time and am constantly worrying about things as I filter them through out my thoughts. I'm going to lieon my bed and read that book. It's called Lady Oracle which I have to return to CLVLND this wknd so I want to read it right now./ And then I am going to start this blog over again/

iii

GOOD POST

this tells you something about me
is that I am a good writer, but I am not tryig very hard.

The first GOOD POST is actualy just a quote from a book I started reading
and it gos like this:

I Planned My Death Carefully; Unlike My Life, Which Meandered along from one thing to another, despite my feeble attempts to control it. My life had a tendency to spread, to get flabby. to scroll anf estoon like the frame of a baroque mirror, which came from following hte line of least resistence. I wanted my death., by contrats, to be neat and smiple, understated, even a litertle severe ,like a Quaker church or the basic black drssn with a single strand of pearls much praised by fashion magazines wheniwas fifteen. NoO trumpets, no megaphones, no spangles. no loose ends, this time. The trick was too disappear withouatrace ,leaving behind me the shadow of c aorpse ,a shadow everyone would mistake for solid-reality. At first I thought I'd managed it.