curbdrop out of grace

don't blame me i'm just God

i could care less that the russian was crying because she failed to win gold. blah blah sob. so what pick up the pieces and pose for playboy europe like all has-been athletes do. i'm sure they can air brush your broad shoulders off so you look more like hippo and less like the hunchback of notre fuck.

billy left me a ridiculous voicemail today at work. i saved it if anyone ever wants to hear it.

he told me he misses hearing me talk and likes reading my thoughts, because i'm so angry. i'm not angry. would an angry person do this?
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cori and i were talking at work on weds about the first computer, represented by my big ass calculator that i took from work in detroit. i showed her "boobless".

i told this girl a joke that for my birthday, i wanted her to get me a gun. and then she was all pissed off saying it wasn't funny. i said, i know, i'm serious. i want a fucking gun so i can kill people who don't like jokes about guns. well i didn't say that but i thought that. and then i raped her at gunpoint. (see how i threw in both a gun and rape joke together?)

can't go wrong with that combo, it's like incest and sodomy.

wish i were playing video game's at paul's house, proper. but maybe next year.

we started this tradition at work three weeks ago called "40's at 4" on fridays. you do the math. it's great. king cobra can sleep over in my stairwell any nite.

i am going to buy a bike on saturday for my birthday and because i was reminded this past summer riding bikes with billy, paul, and double c that bike riding is the greatest. we were riding at the dream cruise. and doing other shite, in a boyhood dream.

that's it, i'm officially older.

posted by fillshe @ 1:02 AM