A Time to be Sassy

It was when I realized that the bushes outside of my apartment were scaring the shit out of me, that I finally realized I'd lost my cape of invicibility (some people wear coats, I wear a cape). After years of feeling like nothing could destroy me, I find myself feeling vulnerable. While I used to dig vulnerability, in part because it reminded me that I was indeed a living breathing person, I've realized that I'm past that. My teenage years have flown the coop, and so has my need to occasionally feel weak. I don't got time for that shit man.

So the solution, well it's easy. It's time to get sassy. Time to say fuck all, and start sportin' neon tshirts, tight black pants, and wear fucking big ass white sneaks. That's what I'm about now, right at the moment, in the hear and the fucking now. And don't you dare worry about me gettin' to it, cuz I already started. Started.

And if anyone's got a spare pair of white BK Knights (you know the kind with the diiimund), holla at me and I'll peep you back right quick. On my Boost Mobile, which I don't own, but will steal. Robbin' and thievin.' Maybe a bit a rhymin' to boot.

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Pretty boy Chuck and I was talking about the NBA today. It is going through a renaissance now, and we aren't. But hopefully we'll get there soon.

Pop Quiz!
Name 8 Western Conference teams that will make the playoffs this year. Start...now!

P.S. Anyone know what happened to Jasper? I miss his face.

Us and Them

Echoing Chuck's statements, sleep is for the weak. As Nas famously (and if not famously, it should be) uttered, "sleep is the cousin of death." and honestly death ain't no friend of mine so i got no interest in his family and friends. unless they've got mad scrabble skills, then they can call me and they can challenge me to a game. I'd also consider a game of handball, butts up, or four square. Playground rules rule my life motherfucker, and if you want to be down with me you better recognize.

Work's been bringin' me down as of late. I mean it's not bad necessarily, but the fact remains that it's work. It'd be cool if it involved more destruction. I've written about this before, but when my life was ruled by destruction I was a much happier person. Maybe death and I would be good friends afterall. Whose to say? Definitely not Minxie.

I want something special to happen. I've been on a specialness drought for about two weeks now, and it's boooooooooring, not to mention laaaaaaaaaaaame. Back in the teenage years things were new and exciting, now they're bland and boring. My life's always been filled with brown and grey, but I used to deal with it better. That was probably because the neon lights occasionally forced their way into my life. They don't do that anymore. Come back neon lights, come back.

(This is not to say that the teenage years were that cool. They kind done sorta sucked too. I just seemed better at making the best of things)

I do expect things to change in about 44 days or so (I'm probably off by a day or two, my math skills have never been up to snuff). Then the neon lights will be ablazin'. I'd be cool with it happening before then though.

This probably comes off all dour sounding, it shouldn't. Sometimes I'm lame though. But all of us are lame, right? Some of the time at least? I just want to consume so much, that when I'm not I feel I'm a boat at sea with no captain. Hopefully muthafuckin' Melville can right my ship.

Here's to you antiquated and dead men. Here's to you.

Again death and I probably are friends, but still sleep is lame. Doesn't leave you time to do shit with afterall. And what good is time if you're not doing stuff.

Here's to you doing stuff. You and old antiquated dead men are the best!