The Official Hog Blog
Thursday, December 30, 2004
I was going through my record collection last night and reminiscing about all of the wunnerful songs and albums I purchased, stole or was given over the course of 2004. Its been an average year of music. I thought that 2003 was much more inventive and fresh, as far as music is concerned, but what do I know?
I just love year end lists, so I've created a few lists of mine own to appease the listmakers and short attention span readers that may be popping in now and again.
this list does not include only 2004 releases. it's just shit that I've got my mind on this morning.
most listened to:
1.Iron and Wine - Our Endless Numbered Days
2.The Byrds - Sweethearts of the Rodeo
3.Dolorean - Violence in the Snowy Fields
favorite record to play in the clubs:
1. "Tipsy" by J-Kwon - This is a one hit wonder that lauds the drunken for gettin' crunk.
2. "Hey Mami" by Fannypack - an electro disco hit with the two girls who sang about your camel toe on their debut 12-incher. This song is faster and not many people get it, but I do. Plus it mixes well with "Sandwiches."
3. "Move your body" by Nina Sky - the culo beat was remixed and reworked by a host of producers, but the girls from Nina Sky did it first and best.
favorite purchases:
1. Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers - "A Jazz Message" (Impulse!) with McCoy Tyner on piano and Sonny Stitt on Sax
2. Wilco - "A Ghost is Born" (Nonesuch) Wilco is my favorite modern group and I think this is their most challenging, inventive and exciting record, yet. I miss the folky sound of their oldest records, but I like it when musicians grow and change.
3. Old Country records - Their are too many to list as I began buying older country and blues and folk records for my collection and I've been listening to them non-stop. I guess when the world around me seems to be a mush of blings and beeps and bops and bright lights and flashy logos, I just feel better about getting to the roots of it all, thus my fascination with old timey country and the blues.
best live shows:
1. Drunk Horse/Dave Gleason's Wasted Days/Parchman Farm at the Great American Music Hall
2. Kelly Stoltz during his January residency at Thee Parkside
3. Wilco at the Paramount
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
get out yer noisemakers and party hats kids its time for another rousing rendition of who the fuck is making that crazy drilling noise so close to my bedroom at 8 o'clock in the morning. It mus' be the nice men in hats and bells and whistles that forgot to remind me that the work day begins at eight not nine, or in my case at 11 in the morning. And in the case of these assholes, the noise begins before nine, when I am officially awakening. oh well. at least I got me some quality time sleeping before all the hullabaloo.
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
I wondered what it would be like to live in an Orwellian society, and with a list of items ticked off to remind me exactly how we have allowed ourselves to be governed by thought police since our original birthdays I found that we not only live in an Orwellian society, but most of us welcome it.
Some people people call it a radical idea, and throw it away as part of a paranoid delusion. Conspiracy Theorists are nuts. Why should we listen? On the other hand, aren't there enough people in your city who live a life in fear? or impoverished to the level that they are working from day to day and only making enough money to get to the next paycheck? imagine that life only existed two weeks at a time, and if you didnt work enough during those two weeks, life as you knew it ended. Even worse, that you had to consider living on the street, or in your car. Some people who are reading this know folks who have to live this way. I certainly do. And who do we look to for salvation?
The good people in Orlando, Florida have a Clear Channel billboard to remind them that we have George W. Bush to thank for some of the worst decisions made by an administration, resulting in an ever widening gap between our nation's poor and our nation's rich. The result of his re-eletion will be the appointments of conservative judges to the Supreme court, there will be an increase in the loss of our privacy by way of the Patriot Act 2, there will be more war on terrorism (not to be confused with the war in Iraq which is its own separate war that is part of the war on terrorism which may include North Korea and Iran someday making it a world war on terrorism or maybe just a holy war, christians versus muslims), and there will be even more of our nation left in the dust as the powerful folks we call our leaders sit in plush offices laughing, golfing on their many days off, checking out their numbers to make sure everything is falling in line, etc, etc, etc, etc...
A constant reminder that we the people have a new president in town, or rather, we have the same old president. It reads "Our Leader," when in fact it should read "Get Used to It."
Thursday, November 11, 2004
Parchman Farm are playing at Café Du Nord this evening, but I can’t make it cuz I’m deejaying tonight. I’ll go and see them another day, tho. They’ll be playing in December when I am available. Who are Parchman farm, you may ask?
Long story made short: Allyson Baker moved to San Francisco from Canada with the intention of creating a heavy rock band. This band, as she tells it, would eventually become Parchman Farm. (Parchman Farm being the old blues tune by Bukka White, not the real-life prison made into legend by the Coen Brothers movie O Brother Where art Thou) In Toronto, Carson Binks' band was falling apart, so he took a vacation to visit the Bay area. By that time, Allyson had been playing with a solid drummer by the name of Chris La Breche. Allyson knew Chris from his days in the Deadly Snakes, found out he was in town and asked him to ditch the sax he used to play for the bass guitar, and to play it like he was buttering ass. As soon as they hit their first notes, they knew it was on, but they needed a singer. Eric Shea stepped up, looking for a new project to sink his teeth into as their lead singer.
Baker, Binks, and La Breche are like new additions to the Frisco nightlife, but San Francisco won’t find Shea to be a mystery, he has put himself into the heat of the musical maelstrom for years. He was a member of Mover, the country-rock band that could have taken the No-Depression world by storm had it not been for artistic differences that caused its demise. He hosted a weekly acoustic open-mic night called the Monday Night Hoot until the venue (and the city’s rock scene) got bigger and the hoot got the boot, and he has been championing the legacy of Gram Parsons by putting together the annual charity event called Sleepless Nights, where West Coast bands pay tribute to Parsons onstage, playing for free, and donating the proceeds to the Haight Ashbury Free Health Clinic.
The new project, Parchman Farm, has swelled beyond their expectations, with shows booked in the best San Francisco halls, playing with some of the city’s best players. Rumors began spreading of them opening for a re-united Mountain at the Warfield circulated the crowded shows at the Ivy Room or at the El Rio, but still the band took it in stride. They are a young band, having been together for under a year, and they are on the verge of discovering themselves in the process. Their live performances are a free form pastiche of ideas that gel and slip away from each other as the songs unite only to give way to the next big sexy psychedelic groove. “I think that we’re totally in transition,” says Allyson, whose smoldering presence onstage, and warm distorted guitar sounds throw fuel to Binks' blistering bass lines, each riff escalating the progression until all four band members are hovering around the drum set, heads bobbing and hair everywhere.
They dismiss it when I mention that they sound like a stoner rock band, with all of their loud and fuzzy, psychedelic references to Deep Purple, Black Sabbath, and Hawkwind. Instead, they reference Screamin’ Jay Hawkins and the early Motown recordings as influencing their sounds just as much as Blue Cheer. “We don’t want to pin ourselves into a corner by labeling ourselves, or adhering to genres,” says Shea, “We’re more into funk rhythms and a lot of harmonies.”
LaBreche goes on to explain how important the live experience is; even referring to it as an organic event that includes participation from the audience. “Rock’n roll, or going to see live rock’n roll is a physical thing, though,” says Binks, with dirty blonde hair and a pretty boy face belying the immensity of his playing skills, wherein his fingers move so fast across the fret boards they might fly from his hands at any moment, “People think we’re a loud band, but we’re not a punishing band. It’s more of a sensual thing, like you feel the reverberations in your sternum. It’s heavy, but funky and uplifting. It’s pop music that’s played really heavy, which is much more exciting and sexy.”
“When it happens it feels sort of like a Jacuzzi,” Shea says, “and being able to kick back with the bubbles on all around you.”
After their very first San Francisco show, Nick Tangborn was impressed enough to quickly snag them to release their first record on Jackpine Social Club, the little record label he slugs away for.
“Eric Shea's been a friend of mine for a few years. I dug his old band and seeing him solo, but this time he's doing what he really wants to do,” Tangborn explains in his matter-of-fact way, “He’s such a filthy hippie anyway, now he can hide under his hair and scream like a banshee.”
Taking that into account, look at Parchman Farm’s gig schedule. They have done shows with folk acts, post-punk bands with disco lean, prog-rock bands, and country-rock bands. All of whom seem to have little in common with them, but always playing with high caliber acts. It’s as if the heyday of San Francisco’s summer of love is re-lived, with no boundaries. Are we experiencing a resurgence of the acceptance of different sounding bands on the same bills and who cares if they are so absolutely different?
“I think we're finally seeing some cross-pollination,” says Nick Tangborn, “San Francisco has always had good bands, but each scene is so insular. It seems like the proliferation of new venues in the city, combined with a bunch of people determined to either play good music or helps promote it, is leading to a real upswing in good bands --both quantity wise and quality wise.”
Shea is quick to remind us of the Parchman Farm goal and that is to “make the best Rock and Roll that money can buy,” but it aint about money with this group. They are four closet heshers who have come out of the shadows to seductively scratch that public itch. That is, we all want to rock. When the work week is over, and us common folks need to let it all hang out and just fuckin’ rock, Parchman Farm is gonna be there. The debut release from Parchman Farm is due out in November on Jackpine Social Club Records.
-30-
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
This person said everything I was thinking right chyar, sir.
Monday, November 08, 2004
Here is your divided America. Each of the counties of each of the states are depicted by the color of their voting. THat is, Bush = red and Kerry = blue. There are purplish spots all over the map, too.
whoah. I'm totally stoned.
and another one.
politics are trippy man. like, whoah.
Friday, November 05, 2004
O! and here is another case of voting machines malfunctioning in GWBush's favor.
not surprisingly, the nation is apathetic.
I wouldn't usually prescribe to anything that USA Today reports, but look at what I found! USA Today reports that there were (GASP!) missing votes in North Carolina.
I guess the missing votes couldn't have changed anything, but were there more missing votes in other states? That's what I want to know.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
There are a few facts that have been misleading us all over the last few days. Not to mention some old news stories that were un-remembered. I present them to you.
First: While the world awaited Ohio to decide whether or not to vote in the devil they knew or the devil anew, I remembered a story from August 28, 2003. It read as follows:
Published on Thursday, August 28, 2003 by the Cleveland Plain Dealer
Voting Machine Controversy
by Julie Carr Smyth
COLUMBUS - The head of a company vying to sell voting machines in Ohio told Republicans in a recent fund-raising letter that he is "committed to helping Ohio deliver its electoral votes to the president next year."
The Aug. 14 letter from Walden O'Dell, chief executive of Diebold Inc. - who has become active in the re-election effort of President Bush - prompted Democrats this week to question the propriety of allowing O'Dell's company to calculate votes in the 2004 presidential election.
O'Dell attended a strategy pow-wow with wealthy Bush benefactors - known as Rangers and Pioneers - at the president's Crawford, Texas, ranch earlier this month. The next week, he penned invitations to a $1,000-a-plate fund-raiser to benefit the Ohio Republican Party's federal campaign fund - partially benefiting Bush - at his mansion in the Columbus suburb of Upper Arlington.
The letter went out the day before Ohio Secretary of State Ken Blackwell, also a Republican, was set to qualify Diebold as one of three firms eligible to sell upgraded electronic voting machines to Ohio counties in time for the 2004 election.
Blackwell's announcement is still in limbo because of a court challenge over the fairness of the selection process by a disqualified bidder, Sequoia Voting Systems.
In his invitation letter, O'Dell asked guests to consider donating or raising up to $10,000 each for the federal account that the state GOP will use to help Bush and other federal candidates - money that legislative Democratic leaders charged could come back to benefit Blackwell.
read the whole story here.
Second: There are plenty of reports stating that President Bush won this election by performing an amazing feat. That is, he got more of the popular vote than any other president elect, ever. BUT, if you look closely at the numbers, you'll find that Kerry (had he won) also would have had more votes than any other president elect, simply because this election had the most voters the nation has ever seen.
finally, if you want to read more from a blog, read Ken Layne'sblog. He is a well rounded guy who also happens to be a great songwriter as well.
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
No matter how many times a guy can win, it won't matter as long as he loses anything at all, but I won that night. I bluffed a couple of hands, and even owned up to a pair of threes that fooled the whole table into believing I had me a flush. The Gooch was not happy about that one.
"shit," she says," I had me a pair of eights and you got threes?!?!"
Each hand had something to brag about, and mostly I was trying to keep a poker face when the best hands came around. Four kings, three Queens, a flush, a straight flush, and twenty one. Bags left early, probably a good thing or he would'a lost his cash too.
By two a.m. we still had a few people to play three or four more games, and the whiskey bottle came to the table. We poured a few, slurred our way through a game of Whorehound and Blackjack, got drunker.
By morning, I was hungover but happy with an extra few dollars to speak of...
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
I'm never one to discount the humour found in disgusting practices, or weird societal occurrences. And so, today I must alert you to the news I've read on a website that could be today's own version of the Enquirer, except that it features legit articles, many of which are ridiculous. Its the smoking gun!
and the news:
" SEPTEMBER 1--Meet Austin Gullette. The 45-year-old Louisiana man was arrested Monday night for pig fornication (technically known as a "crime against nature" in the bayou). According to Ouachita Parish Sheriff's deputies, Gullette's own sister caught him violating her animal, a 125-pound Vietnamese potbelly named PePie. She was alerted to the crime by the sound of squealing, which apparently emanated from the pig. If convicted of the felony count, Gullette--pictured in the below mug shot from the Ouachita Correctional Center--faces a maximum of five years in prison, where it would be a good idea not to admit what landed him in the clink."
Sunday, October 17, 2004
"I'll take a redneck over a hipster any old day," I told him after checking out his brand new trucker hat and unmatching striped socks,"but checking out your clothes, you've given both a bad name."
There is a fine line, these days, between hipsterisms and good ole boy fashions.
dig the trucker hats, a long time fashion no-no to anyone calling themselves hip.
today, hot young types from Hollywood to Soho wear it out like it were a new belt.
A new white belt, mind you. There are stores dedicated to this "low-brow" fashion on Haight Street, selling high priced trucker hats and AC/DC Krokus Motley Crue concert tees and why?
because being down, beat, street or otherwise wise to the rougher hues of life is cool. and being cool is really what you want, now isn't it?
It's also cool to express hipster irony. It's funny that a concert tee from this band is obviously out of fashion. it's kitschiness and self-deprecating all at the same time. A hipster's wet dream.
"rednecks are racist," he said
"so are hipsters."
"rednecks are totally lame"
"dude, you are lame."
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
"c'mon lets go," he said and my eyes were half open. the eye hockey forming in the corner as lack of sleep set in. my body hadnt gone prostrate in what seemed like days, and i felt like i could have dry heaved my way to the next stop.
"c'mon lets go," he repeated, and i stared him down with the stink eye.
"aint you gonna rest? aint you got to get some sleep sometime?"
"no time to sleep, the big sleep is comin."
and he pulled me up by my arm to drag me outta there, no questions asked I was ready to go, the big sleep is comin' and I was about to push my self through to keep from gettin' there too soon.
i needed a rest, but he was awake for three days. in a cab, he'd catch a few winks. between sets, he'd nod off for fifteen minutes, or after dinner, he'd take a quick nap. the man could literally go on and on without sleep. how he kept time on stage without falling over was beyond me. i could barely keep my face up and out of my breakfast half the time.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
on bathroom walls
when traveling, take the time to enjoy the pithy, inspirational graffiti found in roadhouses and reststops along your way. here are a few great writings I've found, thus far:
"BJ Wed Nite any color cock"
"Your Mom"
In the bathroom at O'Leavers, a bar in Omaha where the smokers hang out, where every person hacks a lung up while choking back drags, I found an array of song lyrics written all over the men's room. There were lyrics from "Whiskey Bent and Hell Bound," "In My Room" and the theme song from Fraggle Rock. Also, a drawing of a long haired man, with wide cocaine sunglasses on. an arrow pointed to him and the words "Do Not buy this guy drinks."
at nearly every air hand dryer I found along instructions to "wipe hands on pants"
and this one... an offer I guess:
"For BJ tap foot and show unzipped at sink"
Sunday, September 19, 2004
early in the morn.
got to bed around 3am.
hella tight was bangin' with all sorts of cool folks in the joint.
now I wait to load into the van, drive to wendover, sleeping most the way in the makeshift loft, and find a hotel in that gambling town that will take a sad sap like me.
I'd have a coffee except I'm hoping to get some good sleep.
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
today, I awoke with a start knowing I was out of soy milk, and I so desparately need a soy latte upon my first few minutes after getting up and at 'em that I immediately put on a pair of jeans and some flip flops to get to the way too expensive corner store. They call it a corner store in this neighborhood because the guy who owns it has cornered the market. Its the only store for five blocks around, and I didnt want to walk any further than two.
Got my soy milk, and picked up the latest issue of Sfbay Guardian. On the cover was a couple in prom outfits, or at least dressed up and wearing corsages, so I assumed it was about prom. Not to mention, that the words displayed 'cross the front page said "Class of 2004." It was a story about how ten local bands are ready to hit the national stage.
"Hmm." I thought to myself, " I just so happen to know a little bit about the national touring stages and I wonder who the Guardian picked out. They seem to have their fingers on the pulse, right?"
No one I knew, or cared about, cuz I'm a cynical old jaded fart. But, more importantly, I surmised that none of the acts would get further than Modesto on the national touring stages while I took my morning poo.
Thanks guys! for making it easier to enjoy my morning poo wihtout too muuch to think about!
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
If you wanted to know why Ned couldn't Make it to this year's Ned Fest in Colorado...
Here is Ned's answer:
Well, here's the deal about that: they planned the
thing and assumed that I would be available but they
never actually confirmed the date with me and since
I'm so fucking poor, I picked up a job at McDonald's
just for a couple weekend hours as a manager. Then
Ollie, the guy orchestrating the fest called a week
ago to tell me when I was to be celebrated by these
Coloradians. I asked the owner if I could get the
weekend off and I told him the whole fucking story
about how they were throwing a great big party for me
and guess what he said--"Sorry, Foskey, but I really
need you this weekend. I just can't do it." But,
anyway, I had a little NedFest of my own after work. I
get free food and so I packed a bag full of Angus
burgers and french fries and after a stop at the
Bronco Mart for a tin of Vanilla chewing tobacco and a
12 pack of JW Dundee's Honey Brown beer, I headed home
to watch the lastest "Girls Gone Wild" about 4 and a
half times. Then I lost interest and started walking
around the house naked and ended up punching a whole
in the wall. I was a little late for work the next
morning, but the owner was pretty cool about it. I
guess he understood how I had made a pretty big
sacrifice giving up a festival devoted to me just to
put in 8 hours.
Sunday, August 29, 2004
I've learned a lot from a man who doesn't know me. He is Tony Pierce, and he is an underground legend. I'm unsure of how important he is or will be, but I do know his taste in music and culture will go down in the annals of the internet history.
look what I found on his website, www.tonypierce.com
I believe that this is made up entirely of photos of naked people...
Saturday, August 21, 2004
conceit is an outward manifestation for the need to be loved, innit?
or is it that every time I look in the mirror and notice how damn sexy I am, I just need a hug?
I was on my way to the bar. There is no need to continue being sober tonight. I tried to catch a buzz earlier in the day, around 1, or so, but the fried egg sandwich with some french fries on the side toned down that quickly drunk beer, and even I thought about having another but you see I got to get shit done, that requires keeping my head together, thus.....
but I digress, I'm on the way to the bar, and I look damn fine tonight. so, maybe I'll score some free beer.
Monday, July 05, 2004
I'm hot for:
Wilco - a ghost is born
Belle and Sebastien - Books 7-incher
The Autumn Defense - Circles
and
Rich McCulley - If Faith Dont Matter
Saturday, May 29, 2004
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
I can only imagine GWBUsh and his cronies holed up in the West Wing after the botched Iraq War of late, brainstorming on how to get American minds off of the prison abuse and the dead bodies piling up at Dover as the war on terror looms on....
"We need to tell em to be afraid!" George says," set the Terror risk alert to Orange, and let em know we think that someone will strike this summer."
"Soon, everyone's approval rating will go up and most americans will stock up on foods, stay indoors and watch television, and follow our every word," says Cheney, "we might even get re-elected if something terrible happens."
In the corner, Paul Wolfowitz, Condi Rice, and Donald Rumsfeld scratch their chins.
Just then, Colin Powell walks in,
"Did anyone want a coffee, I'm going to Starbucks?"
"I'll take a Frappucinno," Cheney chirps in.
"oh yeah, me."
"Me too, and make mine a hlaf caf, half decaf, soy latte."
Wednesday, May 19, 2004
God Bless Elvin Jones.
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
just saw the new velvet revolver and have to say I like it like I like the old STP. It has that grungey mud of guitar sound and swaggering drunken forward movement that was STP's first record. It even had some of Alice In Chains drawl.
I'll pit that sound against the others, and hear how different they are....
later I'll get to Jesse Sykes and the Hereafter and Sebadoh.
Records I've bought recently:
Hank Williams
Sufjan Stevens
George Strait
Hawkwind
I'm stoked to hear the next weezer record. I hear its produced by Rick Rubin. what the?!?!?
Friday, May 14, 2004
I want to know why Berg [man assassinated by terrorists on television] was wearing a US-issued Orange jumpsuit when he was beheaded. And why didnt a river of blood spray out of his neck afterwards? Machetes cannot cut through the neck as easy as that one did, and the men who were the supposed terrorists were plump, even fattened up, when these men should have been wire thin from being on the run, eating when they can.... hiding from occupying forces.
just some thoughts about the supposed assassination.
did you ever hear the term wag the dog?
Thursday, May 06, 2004
[08-21-2004 side note:Incidentally, at the time of publishing this date's blog entry, I had a awesome photo of GWBush with a young girl who lost her parents to the 9/11 wtc attacks. Now, it is not available. coincidence? i dunno. you tell me.]
Another golden opportunity for his campaign, like the Turkey he held at Thanksgiving in Iraq, Smart George recentlly posed for the cameras embracing a young girl who lost her parents in the World Trade Towers on 9/11. look at how sincere his pain is in the photo.
[he kinda looks like he's holding her hostage, doesnt he?]
Monday, April 26, 2004
I'm pleased as punch to find out that Denali
an indie band that sounded like poo poo wrapped in a synthesizer, has disbanded. I hope none of them have the gall to continue trying to piece together crappy over emotional cotton swab of crap that can be passed off as genuine music any time soon. cuz that, my friends, would be sad.
In other news.... I've found a great band called Terrene
that deserves all kinna praise for their stone roses inspired greatness.
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
Monday, March 01, 2004
Here is a neato website that has catalogued all of the accomplishments George W Bush can claim as his own.
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
My friend confided in me the other day. He asked me not to tell anyone, and I figure you might get a kick out of it.... so here goes.
He said that until only recently his interpretation of getting a buzz... or "tying one on" was a completely totally different phrase all together. INstead of tying one on, he thought that it was referred to as "strapping one on."
Oh man... that just had me laughing until my guts hurt. I mean, can you picture hanging out with yer pals, and one of them saying...
"Hey jonny! We've had a long week, and its time to cut loose! Lets Strap one on tonight."
ummm... okay? I guess that sounds like fun. I'll do it, sure. Lets strap one on.
Thursday, January 15, 2004
Oh, hey and speaking of monks did you hear that
KFC is finally opening a store in tibet?Am I overreacting, or do buddhist monks really want KFC in their neighborhood? Hell, I dont want KFC in MY neighborhood. They stink.
Seriously, even before a man wakes up by the godawful sound of his alarm clock...
he lives near KFC, he'll be awakened by the smell.
I lived over near the Grand Lake Theatre a few years back, and the very thing happened to me. Not to mention I lived with a big ole dog named Arlo, who loved to eat so much she weighed in at a good ole 150 pounds. thats mighty big for a K-9. she'd get so worked up over that smell that she'd go crazy, like woody woodpecker crazy where she'd scoot around on her butt, just howling like she was in some sort of pain by not getting any of the chicken that wafted in and out of our tiny studio. imagine that, a 150 pound rottweiler doing the boot scootin boogie over food she pines for. she was, like, in love with greasy ass fast food.
I dont want monks to start going insane on account of anything. especially greasy ass fast food.
Wednesday, January 07, 2004
dont tell me I'm over-reacting. you should never ever mug a buddhist monk.
and try to tell me I'm wrong.
you wont win that argument, pal.
Monday, January 05, 2004
Mr. Will You Please Not Eat My Bunny?
there is no cause for alarm. stay calm. sure, sure you've heard this before, I'm serious this time. but please just sit down, yes right there in the beaned-bag. that one on the floor will do, no no... the reddish brown one that i bought for you this morning. it matches the carpeting and looks as if you've been sucked into oblivion. it makes you feel like yr on mars, but it also makes it seem as tho youve been broadcasting in 3-d. red and red and green. ok now please just open your mouth and close your eyes and your going to be in for a big surprise. i'm serious, it will be hilarious. a great big surprise, come on, just close yr eyes and open yr mouth, please. yr not looking are you? i see you peeking and i'm not giving you jack shit until i know yr eyes are totally closed. they closed. oky dokey. here you go!
(gulp)
[hm. it tastes great, but i cant seem to place what it is. 'say, hog, what is this?' i hope he can hear me cuz i dont know how long i'm supposed to chew on this. 'hog? hey hog?!?! this is mighty tastey, but i cant seem to place exactly what it is? i'm not gonna get some kinda SARS or Mad Cow diseases am i?']
{heh heh}
{its that goddamned rabbit I been fixin to cook since i first saw it}
[oh man, he cooked that rabbit. that same rabbit that shit all over lil suzy isley's trapper kreeper. 'damn this bunny is sweet.' i cant believe he finally broiled that lil varmint 'whats yr girl gonna say about her bunny being gone?']
{aw shit, you know I'll just get her a new pet. Maybe a ferret this time. something a little less lethargic. something that i can chase under the couch, and slip into my slacks}
['mmm, tasty']
{yeh, aint it?}.
