SWEET ENOUGH TO EARN A REPOST

Pete deserves a firm pat on the back for polishing off this lovely gem. thanks for confirming what we already kind of suspected.

in your face, you self-righteous bedwetting bitches.

wait.... NSF fellowship money buys me hardcore internet porn subscriptions nutritious meals every week.

...i wonder what that FBI agent is doing up there on the roof?

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$9 TRILLION

just in case you've been keeping up on current events, i wanted to help you understand what a trillion pennies looks like....

keep in mind that it's only one trillion pennies, not nine trillion dollars. holy fucking crap, dude...

i think i'll go bury my life savings in the backyard.

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HFS

so i'm in the car yesterday and the Eric Prydz technopop-trash remix of Steve Winwood's 'Valerie' pops on the radio, and, of course, i assert my car is a 'technopop-free zone' to all passengers and erase the song from our shared listening space. strangely, this was not a popular move, even among the straighter of the laced persona in the audience. i maintain that, even though his age-ripened vocals carry the same soul-haunting gravity they did in '82 (and again in '87), Steve Winwood just shouldn't be all sampled and whatnot for the kneepads-E-glowsticks-backpack-licking-the-walls generation of club monkeys. however, upon further encouragement, i was coaxed into downloading the accompanying music video....

to which i could only reply, 'holy fucking shit,' and commit 'Call on Me' to the lexicon of all-time classic songs, in the warm company of 'Murder on the Dancefloor.'

have i been market-thugged into endorsing Eric Prydz by aerobicizing australians? you betcha. but i still have my humongoid, dinosauric erection pride...

...and no, they can't take that away from me.

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STEEEEEVE PERRY

man, my dreams are just getting completely out of control, and for the second night in a row i feel compelled to share my brain's inner secrets with you. ...you lucky bastards you... so in my dream, i'm just chillin' with Steve Perry, which in and of itself is pretty friggen' cool. yea, just chillin' with Steve Perry, and we're having a pretty cool time, and he thinks i'm a pretty cool guy, and so on and so on. but then he tells me he wants me to marry his daughter, and she looks just like Elisa Cuthbert, only with dark hair, which is even cooler.

so i wake up thinking i'm hooked up with Steve Perry's hot daughter, and i get to jam with Steve on the weekends when he invites us over to his super-huge mansion, and his trophy wife is all nice to us and makes us pie and budweiser and whatnot.

not bad. not bad a-tall.

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ODD...

in my dream last night, i had a son who thought i was the greatest thing in the whole world.

then i woke up and started punching myself in the junk really hard...

you know... to disable it for good.

yikes, dude. yikes.

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MORE SHOTS FROM THE OFFICE

work is hard.

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YARRRRRGH!

all this computer work is giving me a damn neck-hump. i'm totally billing my insurance company if i start to look like an old, crotchety vulture-man.

because then i'll have to sit on my porch all day and heckle passers-by with my cane... especially teenagers.

and when did matthew mcconaughey become such a bitch? he was totally awesome in dazed and confused but th... oh yea, did anyone else see contact? or were you sick the day it was out in theatres.

i think i'll go drink warm colt45, watch lesbian spank inferno dazed and confused, and heckle passers-by on the porch.

oooo! i saw a barn owl, a coyote, and two red-tailed hawks today. what did you do, bitches?

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ANOTHER DAY AT THE OFFICE

in case anyone had any lingering doubts about why corn is dumb:

hooray for field sites!!

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