Sunday, November 19, 2006

Whut it do, hyphy, gully, hoy, do mah

I've got this horribly annoying song entrenched in my head. It goes "there's no letter better than B. B is the best fuckin leeetter. Blah blah blah letter than B... there's no better fuckin leeeetter..."

It's performed by the damn Dixie Chicks on this Sesame Street DVD designed to assist in teaching toddlers the alphabet and my daughter starts dancing every time it's on. God bless. I'll keep hitting the 'previous' button cuz the cuteness makes up for the wackness every damn time. I used to dance to some wack shit too when I was knee high too.

I've dranken some high end scotch from a high end licor store in the Pac Heights district in SF so this turd-post comes with warning. Lindsey Lohan is too hot. Imagine making that h0e scream...

Sold the crib. Fannin to rent nice quaint abode in the blue collar burb of san brew fo a hot minute. Does David Carr wear panties under his uniform just every other week?? Did IBM hire eunuchs design their UNIX? Was Son-Jara of the ancient Manden(sondiata) a trickster?? Or is it his sis and his griot. Only time will tell... alot of time considering how long it takes that cum guzzler to reply to me. rules.

What about this guy? Is he fucking serious? Did he really reach the 1 mil mark by buying walmart shoes for his entire family, paying 8 bux/month for cell phone service, and listening to Yanni?? Should I try and follow in this footsteps?? Fuck no. Balance my friend. When he's 60 and sporting velcro knockoff Clarks and his daughters are at the Kit Kat Club bouncing on my lap because their daddy never bought them overpriced fake Uggs from Target he'll agree too. Scrimpy-ass thirsty nuga.

Balance young grasshopper, balance. It's all about experiencing the best of both worlds.