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[21 Mar 2011|03:19pm] |
OH WHAT THE FUCK?
I'M ONLINE
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| From the editor's desk |
[11 Mar 2010|12:47pm] |
Hi it's me again, blogging from the toilet on my regular mid-day shit-break. As I'm performing this physical release, why not release some content? On the subject of shit, a lot of people love talking shit. Some love to talk shit about me in general. This is cool, I love the attention. To my uninvited guest(s), I hope you hate what you see here, it's really the point of this blog. Oh, another piece just slid out my anus.
Plop
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[09 Feb 2010|06:07pm] |
/^\
L L / \ L L
__/|/|_ / . \ _|\|\__
/_| [_[_\ / .-\ /_]_] |_\
/__\ __`-\_____ / . \ _____/-`__ /__\
/___] /=@> _ {> /-. \ <} _ <@=\ [___\
/____/ /` `--/ / . \ \--` `\ \____\
/____/ \____/`-._> / \ <_.-`\____/ \____\
/____/ /__/ /-._ . _.- \ \__\ \____\
/____/ /__/ / . \ \__\ \____\
|____/_ _/__/ / . \ \__\_ _\____|
\__/_ ``_|_/ / -._ . _.-\ \_|_`` _\___/
/__`-`__\ <_ `-; NDT_> /__`-`__\
`-` `-._ ; _.-` `-`
`-._ ; _.-`
`-._.-`
I'M A LITTLE CONFUSED
IS THIS WHAT GIRLS LOOK AT INSTEAD OF PORN
WAIT NEVERMIND
THEY LOOK AT MONEY WHEN THEY MASTURBATE
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| BOOM |
[09 Feb 2010|05:52pm] |
i was going to write an entry, but DO I REALLY NEED AN EXCUSE TO POST PHOTOS LIKE THIS?
NO.
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| slow day? |
[09 Feb 2010|05:45pm] |
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_____
| ~~~ |
__ |_____| __
(_/___%/<->%___\_)
| ( /
)--////
`--' I WILLINGLY
_ ) (__ TAKE IT UP
(::::\ /::::) THE POOP CHUTE
) | >o< |\ (
_ ____/ /| / \ | \ \
(=\ ___/:\/___\/ / /:
::::::|_[@]_|/ /::
::::: | ==|/:::
:: : | (_|:::
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__| || |__
(__/[][]\__)
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| 2 iPhone 3Gs and 1 failed attempt to upgrade to a 3GS later, |
[04 Feb 2010|05:09pm] |
I have confimed that SINGTEL IS FULL OF SHIT.
so much for a "loyalty rewards" program
all i've been rewarded with is shitty customer service, patronising "i understand your problem"s and other assorted niceties
FUCK YOU SINGTEL I'M THE CUSTOMER I SHOULD BE DOING THE PATRONISATION.
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| What up fools |
[04 Jan 2010|05:35am] |
happy martin luther king day
WORK STARTS TODAY
and i must be stressed out cause i haven't slept a wink
not because i can't handle the pressure, but because sleeping is for losers
and i'm winning nonstop and ballin out of control
that's all i really have to say
kthxbye
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| Respite from the frenzy |
[29 Oct 2009|11:21am] |
it's been more than half a year? already?
now if only my free time could stretch longer.
:)
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| Best BMX Playlist ever? |
[08 Oct 2009|12:29pm] |
Hot Water Music - Just Don't Say You Lost It
Live - All Over You
Get Up Kids - Shorty
Promise Ring - B Is For Bethlehem
New Found Glory - Sonny
No Use For A Name - Coming Too Close
Pennywise - Bro Hymn
Jimmy Eat World - Believe In What You Want
Smashing Pumpkins - Zero
Goldfinger - Nothing To Prove To You
Mighty Mighty Bosstones - The Impression That I Get
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| conversation of the week |
[02 Oct 2009|05:23pm] |
kingofgrope: OH SHIT i better like, put on my pants
they be here soon
haha
that woke me up
me: lol wtf
yea i know the feeling
you're like
waiting for friewnds to come
so you like slack and whack for a bit
before you know it
they're ringing your buzzer and you haven't cum yet
kingofgrope: hahahahahah
me: HATE THAT FEELING
kingofgrope: THAT'S RIGHT
YES
WORST FEELING EVER
haha
well
me: "okay~~ give me 5 minutes to get ready"
you will say in your best sing-song voice
and you quickly jerk off into some tissue
kingofgrope: i haven't actually had that exact moment but there have been similar moments
me: and it sucks
kingofgrope: aahaha
me: because you're not even at your completion scene or jpeg
kingofgrope: unfulfilling
hahahahaah
me: ya man fucking dissatisfying
to cum at something thats not your completion assist
it just sets up for a night full of planning what to jerk off to later
i hate that
spoils the mood
sets you up for a fucked up night
kingofgrope: hahaa
i should have jerked off :(
for a better night
instead i talked to you
about jerking off
for a better night
me: hey that's life
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| UPDATE |
[11 Sep 2009|10:26am] |
new bike update
i m a ripper.
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[01 Sep 2009|12:26pm] |
4 more days, then the weekend, then 1st day at BBH and the end of brain drain.
I'd like to dedicate a song to all y'All..
How many brothas fell victim to tha streetz
Rest in peace young nigga
Theres a heaven for a g
Be a lie
If I told ya that I never thought of death
My niggas
We tha last ones left
But life goes on.....
How many brothas fell victim to tha streetz
Rest in peace young nigga
Theres a heaven for a g
Be a lie
If I told ya that I never thought of death
My niggas
We tha last ones left
But life goes on....
As I bail through tha empty halls
Breath stinkin
In my draws
Ring, ring, ring
Quiet yall
Incoming call
Plus this my homie from high school
Hes getting by
Its time to worry
Another brotha
Nobody cry
Life as a baller
Alchol and booty calls
We usta do them as adolecents
Do you recall ?
Raised as gs
Loced out and blazed the weed
Get on tha roof
Lets get smoked out
And blaze with me
2 in tha morning
And we still high assed out
Screamin thug till I die
Before I passed out
But now that your gone
Im in tha zone
Thinkin
i dont wanna die all alone
But now ya gone
And all I got left are stinkin memories
I love them niggas to death
Im drinkin hennessy
While tryin ta make it last
I drink a 5th for that ass
When you pass...
Cause life goes on
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[26 Aug 2009|11:26am] |
You have the lovers,
they are nameless, their histories only for each other,
and you have the room, the bed, and the windows.
Pretend it is a ritual.
Unfurl the bed, bury the lovers, blacken the windows,
let them live in that house for a generation or two.
No one dares disturb them.
Visitors in the corridor tip-toe past the long closed door,
they listen for sounds, for a moan, for a song:
nothing is heard, not even breathing.
You know they are not dead,
you can feel the presence of their intense love.
Your children grow up, they leave you,
they have become soldiers and riders.
Your mate dies after a life of service.
Who knows you? Who remembers you?
But in your house a ritual is in progress:
It is not finished: it needs more people.
One day the door is opened to the lover's chamber.
The room has become a dense garden,
full of colours, smells, sounds you have never known.
The bed is smooth as a wafer of sunlight,
in the midst of the garden it stands alone.
In the bed the lovers, slowly and deliberately and silently,
perform the act of love.
Their eyes are closed,
as tightly as if heavy coins of flesh lay on them.
Their lips are bruised with new and old bruises.
Her hair and his beard are hopelessly tangled.
When he puts his mouth against her shoulder
she is uncertain whether her shoulder
has given or received the kiss.
All her flesh is like a mouth.
He carries his fingers along her waist
and feels his own waist caressed.
She holds him closer and his own arms tighten around her.
She kisses the hand besider her mouth.
It is his hand or her hand, it hardly matters,
there are so many more kisses.
You stand beside the bed, weeping with happiness,
you carefully peel away the sheets
from the slow-moving bodies.
Your eyes filled with tears, you barely make out the lovers,
As you undress you sing out, and your voice is magnificent
because now you believe it is the first human voice
heard in that room.
The garments you let fall grow into vines.
You climb into bed and recover the flesh.
You close your eyes and allow them to be sewn shut.
You create an embrace and fall into it.
There is only one moment of pain or doubt
as you wonder how many multitudes are lying beside your body,
but a mouth kisses and a hand soothes the moment away.
— Leonard Cohen, You Have the Lovers
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