NSFW - not seeable *at work *=f

Here is a collection of youtubes your ears will enjoy. None of these will be seeable at work if you have the youtubes blocked, if that's where you're at.

R.L. Burnside and the funky blues of "Someday Baby":

Howlin' Wolf sings us a song called "Back Door Man":

Oh, yikes, here is some Junior Kimbrough with "Keep on braggin":

A bit of white folk blues with some Blind Pilot and their "3 rounds and a sound":

The incomparable Sonny Boy Williamson's "I'm a lonely boy":

Also, in my lazy musical collection instead of sharing anything of my own production, here is Muddy Waters with "Long distance call":

laziness at its finest

"I was a victim of a series of accidents, as are we all." ~Kurt Vonnegut, Sirens of Titan

  

Panty raid: "A collector never stops collecting" and "The best collectors always start young" taken to heart results in an 18 year old with 500 pair of panties.

 

Deathbed confessions (even those about aliens) are to be taken with a grain of salt because: deathbed ... dementia ... delusions, etc. Basically, never trust an old person.

Europeans are holding up convenience stores with breasts. Rather, breast milk. Well, this woman "distracted" the clerk by whipping out a titty and squirting in his general direction.

When life sends you a broken penis, make lemonade. Or something, grow a new dick in the lab, why not?

Don't take selfies with bears - I would personally ask someone to take the photo for me as that allows for a much more daring pose. With video capabilities on cell phones what they are, these kids should be getting chastised by the Park Rangers for taking video of themselves "poking the bear", as they say.

birthing the mixtape (part 2)*

I'm so throwed, I don't know what to do but to give you part two of my confessions. -Usher Raymond IV

I finally gave birth to the bastard. There's not currently a playlist file so I can organize it for you but do random and it's probably near enough as makes no matter.** At any rate, here's the mixtape I talked about weeks ago: here. (Do a "download all" - I dunno, it's all there. It took so long for many reasons. I don't feel done and I haven't ordered it properly at present but sometimes an itch just needs scratched. Also, I'll probably fix it up shortly. At least this damn thing is out of me now. I've far more pressing concerns to attend to at present. Like women and words. Primarily women, but words too, soon, to be sure.

*Part 1 can be found here.
**I'll get to this later too, most likely.

mixtapes are tall orders

"Give a man a mask and he will show his true face." ~Oscar Wilde

Ever google yourself? Additionally, I'm working on a mixtape and a good medium for the same.

update:  http://javier-nelson.blogspot.com/2014/10/birthing-mixtape-part-2.html

lost art of the mixtape (part 1*)

"And if I want to find the song 'Landslide' by Fleetwood Mac I have to remember that I bought it for someone in the fall of 1983 pile, but didn't give it to them for personal reasons." ~ High Fidelity

Sitting by the radio, finger poised over the "REC" button with a growing bitterness for DJs that don't announce the song before they play it has a special spot in the annals of mating rutuals before the invention of the compact discs, MP3s, and playlists. Even after the invention of these epic game-changers, the mixtape maintained its lofty position amongst the courtship rituals of the youth. Only now, instead of sitting around the stereo waiting and wishing for the next song on their mixtape to blare across the airwaves, eager young Romeos and Juliets can simply point, click, download, and send. It doesn't matter if the mixtape is recorded on an actual "tape", it's the organization of the tracks that really bring about that "mixtape madness".

Courtship today can be as simple as "swipe right" and "how you doin'?" but one intrepid man in Alabama has decided to re-visit the ancient tradition of the mixtape (on actual cassette) with the hope to win his wife back. However, his mixtape was so explosively romantic as to require the bomb squad to give it a first listen. The reason the authorities were called in to investigate this particular mixtape mix-up was almost certainly due to the fact that he used 1980s technology (the cassette) to show his 2010s love (blurred lines-style).

*Part 2 will be an actual mixtape, the form of which is as yet to be determined.

perverts in pedagoguery*

“I've been things and seen places.”

~Mae West

 

"When's the last time you got some mouth action on your genitals?" is the kind of question one might ask a friend after a few rounds at the local alcoholery. "Lay any good pipe recently?" is the kind posed to plumbers or by sex-starved boys/men** to one another (but only when there's no women around). Additionally, these types of queries would probably be acceptable at higher learning institutions but they'd be cleverly disguised under topics such as "sexual studies", "humanities", "social science" or some such similar nonsense.

 

Asking invasive, personal questions about students' sex lives is normally reserved for the students to ask one another when they wake up next to each other the morning after a wild evening. Even then it's always pretty tame with queries like "What's your name again?" or "Did we use a condom?" or "Do you have any STDs I should know about?"*** Consequently, when posed similar questions during a "Title IX" related "mandatory training" about drinking and sexual habits, it really shouldn't razzle any one's dazzles enough to kick a fuss, and yet it does.

 

Clemson University, with an unusual amount of government compliance gusto, decided to take an interesting approach to the federal government's enforcement of the "Campus SaVE" act recently signed into law in 2013. Basically, it's the government's attempts to withhold (or threaten to withhold) federal funding unless the institutions that receive the funding can provide proof that they're compliant with specific goals to deter sexual violence (date rape, regular rape, unwanted touching, stalking, poking, etc) by reporting information about instances of such crimes and statistics about the same.**** 

 

The students, upon receiving word they'd have to go through "title IX training," were directed to take a quiz with particularly probing questions about their "outside of class" behavior. The questions themselves were not un-answerable, as such, they were merely inappropriate. And yet that's still not the right way to describe the situation: the college wants knowledge about how the students behave when off-campus most likely with the intention of producing a better "safety program" to prevent more sexual violence happening on-campus. There are few that could argue against the righteousness of the cause, however it is the execution that gives offense. The problem with the quiz is that it isn't anonymous enough. Students that have a problem divulging all of their innermost perversions in a quiz administered by a third party vendor at the request of the college wouldn't think twice about sharing the same information in the right context, which in this instance would contain more anonymity.

 

What started as a well-intentioned effort to bring in more federal funding and increase the safety of the campus against perverts and rapists ended up as a pretty intimate invasion of the personal lives of the people the whole ordeal was trying to protect in the first place. None of this matters, at the end of the day, after all it's just academia and they don't have anything better to do with their time. However, if this playful bantering teaches anything, it ought to be that there is a proper time and venue for asking illicit information about sexual behaviors. That time is any time of the day or night and that place is the internet. Coat your perversions with a liberal dose of anonymity and use a picture with your post and you can get more information about personal perversions than you can shake a dick at.*****

 

*pedagoguery
n. A school or school-house.
n. The system of pedagogy; the office of a pedagogue.
n. A petty instructiveness; a dogmatic and narrow-minded method of dealing with things. -- (just in case)

**Men/Boys are synonymous terms when women aren't around because everything quickly devolves to tom-foolery and lively games of grab-ass.

***Everyone knows that if you pull out (coitus interruptus) then you can't get STDs or babies. Also, you can practice your aim.

****There were alcohol/drinking/recreational drug use questions as well and what alcohol or drug consumption habits have to do with this, I have no idea because alcohol is known to have no effect on behaviors, especially when it comes to questionable sexual decisions.

*****4chan.org is one such example.

tampon fights under a doomsday sunset

"Basically, at the very bottom of life, which seduces us all, there is only absurdity, and more absurdity. And maybe that's what gives us our joy for living, because the only thing that can defeat absurdity is lucidity." ~ Albert Camus

There's a cool new game all the hip kids are playing called Tampon Run. It's an interesting side-scroller flash game developed by two young ladies, "Andy and Sophie" that are straight outta high school in New York City. The game was developed as part of the "Girls Who Code" program which gets young women interested in the computer sciences so that they can hopefully grow up and get real paid.*

Tampon Run centers around a female hero (simply minding her own business) trying to walk her 8-bit ass down the sidewalk when suddenly she's accosted by men wearing pink hats that like to moonwalk. The only defense our intrepid heroine has in her repertoire is the ability to jump over her attackers or to fire tampons at them.** Pressing the up arrow on your keyboard will allow your character to jump and the space bar fires off a round of tampon at the ne'erdowells with the pink hats and alien legs. You die when your tampon supply reaches zero, obviously, and in this way the game accurately reflects real life.

There's a bigger metaphor here as well since this little flash game mirrors the problems women face in society at large with the unending supply of baddies that ceaselessly attack our heroine. She was just trying to use the public sidewalk, even though it seems like a questionable decision to go out at night (when the sky is red) and the sidewalks are crawling with identically clad aggresive looking men. However, that is exactly the point. Why should women have to carry extra tampons around with them when they just wanted to go for a walk under the apocalyptic sky? Women have just as much right to sidewalk use (even during a doomsday sunset) without being constantly subjected to the men of the world (8-bit or not) hassling them. They shouldn't need to buy tampons in bulk, men ought to respect them enough as human beings to not objectify them and force them to defend themselves with feminine products.

*As opposed to a liberal arts degree where there is no "getting real paid" going on whatsoever.

**Unsure if there are extra feminine products that can be unlocked at higher levels as this game is totally innapropriate to play at work so I had to Start Button+D a few times when prying eyes demanded to know what I was grinning about so hard.

choking d**** and murdering tricks

"Murder’s out of tune,
And sweet revenge grows harsh."

~ William Shakespeare (Othello)

Jack the Ripper was identified. After 126 years, the victims' families can finally get the closure they deserve. Or rather, the countless authors that have written on the subject of this mystery "ripper" can finally publish that epilogue chapter they've been dying to get to since that first edition.

This is great news for amateur detectives and armchair investigators but to the average fellow it means very little. To the serially criminal fellow though, it means that any schmuck with some money and a bit of ingenuity can join in on the hunt for your "red october"*. However, the authorities would most likely limit the available caseload that can be worked by any old asshole to those "unsolved mysteries" or "cold cases" that gather dust in evidence rooms across the world. Basically, if a crime was just committed then it's the police that will be doing the policing instead of "Arnold the Auctioner"** who won an auction for some murder memorabilia who then called his friend "Donald the Doctor"*** to do some "science".

DNA evidence in the 126 year old murder case of Jack the Ripper has brought about a resolution to the caper though there will probably be no convictions on the matter as dear "Jack" was actually an insane hairdresser and likely mentally unfit to stand trial even if he were still alive. Aaron Kosminski, also known as "Jack the Ripper", was a Polish immigrant that butchered some prostitutes in London in the late 19th century. Also, he was a chronic masturbator.**** This is where a joke about polish people could go but there's nothing to joke about here because it seems like dear "Jack" was really just in it to win it: choking dicks and murdering tricks. Kosminski is one of the greatest serial killers to ever pick up a blade. He lived a long life (for the time) and died of gangrene in a lunatic asylum after butchering whores and scaring the shit out of everyone that lived in one of the world's largest cities (at the time). If there were ever a poster child/boy/man for "successful serial killers", Aaron Kosminski is assuredly that man-child.

So, what does this all mean to the aspiring serial killer today? If a 126 year old "cold case" can come up gangbusters because of some old semen, what about more recent murders? What about more recent murders involving semen? DNA is the greatest enemy in the serial killer's extensive list of enemies (nosy neighbors, smart police, savvy detectives, witnesses, etc) and here is further proof of the power this particular foe wields against the would-be murderer. However, hopeful serial killers need not fret overly so because there is still a string of unsolved serial killings and uncaught murderer idols out there to offer hope to the weary. Next time you find yourself hesitating with blade in hand, think of the killers out there still "at large" or "free to kill again" like the "Zodiac killer" or the "Mad Butcher of Kingsbury Run" or even the "Frankford Slasher" and just go ahead and sink that blade in deep so you can finally find that sweet release.

*"October" is the name of your blade and "red" means it's covered in blood, in this particular metaphor.

**Russell Edwards, "businessman", 48 years old

***Doctor Jari Louhelanain, "doctor", unknown age

****"Kosminski has always been one of the three most credible suspects. He is often described as having been a hairdresser in Whitechapel, the occupation written on his admission papers to the workhouse in 1890. What is certain is he was seriously mentally ill, probably a paranoid schizophrenic who suffered auditory hallucinations and described as a misogynist prone to ‘self-abuse’ – a euphemism for masturbation." - serially killing that dick

the raven sings when the mists come

"Yesterday is but today's memory, and tomorrow is today's dream." 

~Khalil Gibran

Certain memories leave scars while others can heal the weary soul. Memory is fleeting and colored more often than true. Some memories are even colorfully fleeting as they slip away like snowflakes between fingertips. There are also memories that defy and deny. They're the misty memories and far more insidious because they refuse to be held for even an instant.

Friday nights often give birth to these fiendish deviants but, they always begin their sinful ceremonies with alcohol. Then the mists begin to set in as the evening rolls on and finally, the captain must simply trust in his instruments to guide him home. He knows his ship and he knows the route. He's made it half a hundred times in worse conditions before, or so he tells himself on each subsequent foggy voyage home.

Ancient sea explorers took birds on long voyages to help find land in uncharted waters. Once released, the birds would either return or not. If they returned, the sailors must continue their voyage as land was not near.

The captain on this voyage may know these waters well but that's not to say he always finds a safe harbor so he releases the only creature able to find its way through these mists of sinfulness. The raven, black as night, soars on the winds and peers through the haze of lascivious debauchery. The raven's deathly wisdom gives it the ability to see through the fogs and caw out truth.

"Asshole!" quoth the raven, "Drunken asshole!" quoth the raven, forevermore.

my second favorite tinkerbell

My second favorite pixie in the whole wide world is obviously La Roux. I believe all women are beautiful and that if you can't find the beauty in a woman, you're not a real man. Admittedly, the search can take a while for some, but I assure you there is beauty there somewhere. That being said, particular "types" of women (or womyn, you're all beautiful, remember?) really "get my toes tapping" or "engorge my member", as they say in polite society. Pale, ethnically ambiguous (fish and chips English), fairy-like waifs such as this beautiful young lady are among such a group, I admit. However, she has a new album out this year and here is a song that your ears will thank you for listening to:



Can't say if Sexotheque is a cool metaphor or an actual place. Ideally, both?

when's the last time you were upper decked?

 

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creepy old english dudes

“It is what you read when you don't have to that determines what you will be when you can't help it.” ~ Oscar Wilde

Audio books are the lazy man's way of reading. Except, they aren't. Except, they are.

Firstly, one doesn't "read" an audio book. Anyone that thinks otherwise is a damn fool. Secondly, "radio dramas" are pretty retro and hip. Think of audio books as radio dramas and suddenly that lazy streak of "fuck books" has turned into "hipster cool" quicker than it should have. It's because hipsters aren't cool, they merely aspire to difference for difference's sake.

If you're listening to a book on tape, at the end of the day it doesn't matter what you call it, there's a good chance you've got an old guy with an English accent reading you stories. Things could be worse.

could you kill a man?

 

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true challengers are few and far between

"The true measure of a man is not how he behaves in moments of comfort and convenience but how he stands at times of controversy and challenges."

~ Martin Luther King Jr.

The intrepid internet denizen* would be shocked to see the google image search results for "ice bucket challenge" because of the amazing lack of NSFW (sexy) images. There are hundreds (possibly thousands)** of young women out there that are into charity and know exactly what happens when they dump a bucket of ice water on their heads when they're wearing nothing but a white T-shirt and some lacy undergarments. Turning "safe-search" off does nothing to entice or tantalize because all that option offers is a wider variety of shirtless dudes making awful faces.

Regardless of whether or not awful-faced shirtless gentlemen are "sexy", it's still a far cry from the anticipated results of young women scantily clad in white and lace frolicking around a field full of sunflowers and rainbows. They're all dripping wet and shivering from the torrent of ice and water they recently dumped on themselves so the creepy guy leering at them on the internet can get his high jollies instead of low follies. It may be time to call in the real internet peoples and see what shakes loose on this (in spirit, if not in fact) violation of Rule 34 of the internet. "There is porn of it. No exceptions." Though alternatively, the real spirit of the rule is that "if it exists, porn can be MADE of it" and in fact, this is exactly what causes such outrage over the abysmal selection of "safe-search off" google image material for this terribly unsatisfying viral trend.***

This disturbing lack of "sexy pics" to ogle over during the work day isn't even the biggest tragedy of this so called "challenge". It's not really much of a challenge, though there's certainly some jokes to be made about how challenging regular water is to one of the creators of this vile gimmick. SPOILER: He drowned. Real challenges exist out there online, at least they used to:

FORTY CHALLENGE: Forty ounces of malt liquor chugged in under a minute. The real challenge connoisseur will hold to tradition and demand the challenge take place in front of an audience with a suitable type of malted liquor such as Olde English. The carbonation and volume of the beverage combine with the shape of the bottle to create a perfect storm of "chug challenge" that makes this feat nearly impossible for any type of "lesser man".

BROS ICING BROS: Basically like an adult version of an easter egg hunt where the "juicy goodness" inside the "easter egg" is actually (oddly enough) the malted deliciousness of none other than Smirnoff Ice.**** The challenge here is to consume the entire bottle of Ice no matter where you are when it's properly presented to you which is basically "as a surprise." The challenge connoisseur here will likely enjoy sneaky hiding spots and clever presentations especially if they're at inappropriate times like a meeting at work. However, bros all know that when you play the game of Bros Icing Bros, you win or you die.*****

EDWARD FORTYHANDS: Similar to the FORTY CHALLENGE but without the time constraints or the recommended audience (though audiences are always welcome for challenges and often encourage the challenger to make their very best effort). The biggest difference is that this challenge contains two forty ounce bottles of malt liqour (such as Olde English) duct taped to the hands. The challenge here is not the volume of alcohol (a mere 80 ounces) but the open-ended time constraint. Is it better to try and chug it all down quickly so the duct tape can be removed and the restroom can be used without assistance again or to savor the flavors and gentle hoppy goodness of the delicious gift from heaven that is Olde English? Either way, everyone is a winner here. This challenge can be done on your own time and in the privacy and comfort of your own home, should you be into the whole "practice makes perfect" attitude of accepting challenges.

The so-called "ice bucket challenge" is misleading on multiple fronts. Not only does it clearly not fit the mold of what constitutes a "challenge" but the audience doesn't even get a show. If there were say, a dozen Smirnoff Ices in the bucket of ice that the challenger had to consume immediately prior to dumping the empty bucket on their head, that would constitute a "challenge". Alternatively, if the challenger would do everyone a solid and be a cute girl that likes to take her top off, this "ice bucket" pretender might constitute a "challenge". As it stands, the "ice bucket challenge" is an effrontery to sensible, practical and real "challengers" willing to take on anything.****** It's about as challenging as dealing with having your gas shut off because you "forgot" to pay the bill. Cold water won't kill anyone and it's called Lou Gehrig's disease, anyhow. Wikipedia even says so.

*Or "netizen" as they're sometimes called. "Lurker" or "troll" seems like a better choice to me, though

**I'm not good at (nor do I care about) "accurate maths"

***Many a day at work without a decent internet connection on a gentleman's phone could conceivably result in countless hours spent looking for celebrity side boob pictures and other general "tit"illating images that can be found when the safe search is OFF

****Long time readers will be aware of the author's love of malted beverages, especially malted wine coolers (smirnoff ice) because they "get the ladies drunk too" and he "doesn't have to be drunk by himself anymore"

*****Obligatory game of thrones reference.

******Maintaining an erection while battling with the mental image of a postal worker's calves? Now THAT'S a REAL challenge 

an open letter to every woman i've ever "loved"

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he goes by the street name of "jack-off johnson"

“Sadness gives depth, happiness gives height. Sadness gives roots, happiness gives branches. Happiness is like a tree going into the sky, and sadness is like the roots going down into the womb of the earth. Both are needed, and the higher a tree goes, the deeper it goes simultaneously. The bigger the tree, the bigger will be its roots. In fact, it is always in proportion. That's its balance.” 

- Osho Rajneesh

(some Indian dude that had many names)

As the earnest young gentleman progresses onwards towards the inevitable darkness of eternity and without the certainty of purpose he'd hoped that would bring, he often needs to stop and take stock of things. As he nears decrepitude, cantankerousness, and his future as a helpless invalid the young man ought to take a *moral inventory. ** ***

The above is basically the text book definition of "mortality" with all of the insidiousness and evil it implies. The great killer of vitality: somber thoughts of death and its inevitable (and occasionally imminent) arrival. The vivacious youth running down the hall of the imperial star destroyer being chased by some shadowy figure casting long and ominous shadows. It's only in the third act of this mini play that the author reveals it was only a cleaning droid and the "vivaciousness" was merely artistic license being applied to a "pretty groovy trip from like, the other weekend."**** *****

More often than he wants, that "trail of remembrance" brings with it joy as well as pain. It's impossible to look back on any tragedy and not also find a bit of hope. Just as suffering, pain, and death are part of the human natural condition, hope is the natural human mental condition. Our hero looks back on his painful days and that sweet sorrow he hoped to hold on to slips through his fingers and gets lost in the waters of memory. That's actually why the greeks always associated memory with water.^

There's no immediacy to life anymore and our hero can't help but begrudgingly give in to the flow of the river because try though he might, he can never seem to stand in the same river twice. There's different waters constantly moving past and the fish all look strange and if he watches long enough, even the rocks and mud under his feet slowly move under the onslaught of the ceaseless current.

Insanity is something elusive, clearly. However, it can be loosely defined (metaphorically) by standing in a river and trying to grab hold of the same molecules of water with successive grabs. It won't happen and the gentle man can turn into a vile, angry demon that looks like he's pretending to be a bear catching salmon as he furiously paws at the river water.^^ Scientists have claimed it is possible to do something like this (theoretically) but scientists are all assholes dressed in lab coats.^^^

If our man refuses to let go of the past he runs the risk never finding the future. The opposite is also true.^^^^ This is because his hands would get all wrinkly like he spent too much time in the tub and no one would want to talk to him because his street name would be "Jack-Off Johnson" because everyone would (wrongfully) assume his hands were so wrinkly due to excessive masturbation. No one means to imply masturbation is wrong, it's just unseemly to go out in public all the time looking like he just rubbed one out in the bathroom.^^^^^

The unseemly man shies from his responsibilities to share the wisdom of the rivers. The scientist would rather let the rivers all dry up in their global warming pyramid scheme to control all the water than even intelligently join in the discourse of river wisdom. The foolish man drowns.

The true gentleman, however, knows all these things about rivers and masturbating and pretty groovy trips and he decides instead to share his knowledge and educate the masses. In his benevolence, he sees fit to share the backlog of wisdom~ as well as any future river wisdom or any other wisdom gleaned from metaphors with natural phenomenas.~~


*"Whatever the fuck that means"
**Using an old "netbook" (which is basically just marketing slang for a tiny ass laptop with a terribly awkward keyboard layout) that I salvaged from wherever computers go when they get shitty from running some weird windows/ubuntu bastard and want to just give up and die. Computer island, I'd imagine. For the curious: Inspiron 910 currently running Linux Mint 13 Xfce - only a few minor issues with the wireless but that only took a little bit of head-scratching and some good old fashioned downloading packages from their near idiot proof software center.
***This reminds me of my old history paper writing days except the web editor I'm using to type this (on aforementioned awkward keyboard) doesn't allow me to do proper looking footnotes. Asterisks are working for now but I can't imagine a ninth or tenth "footnote" not looking textually strange.
****Time frame approximate.
*****Even though I used two "footnotes" to footnote about these "footnotes", I am still going to switch to an alternative signifier of for these "footnotes" since five asterisks looks excessive and I dare not attempt six because that's just excessive. Additionally, the more "footnotes" I have will make this look all that more well researched even though I'm really only referencing myself.
^True story, even though the greeks (then and now) are generally a despicable people.
^^Obviously this is artistic license as well because there was no mention of the man roaring in any fashion and bears ALWAYS roar when they try and catch salmon because they're so fierce.
^^^I have no idea if scientists have made this claim but it sure sounds like some ludicrous shit those haughty assholes would say.
^^^^No idea, this may or may not be true.
^^^^^Masturbate (or do vigorous sex (and smoke weed)) everyday.
~You can find this in the recent outpouring of posts to this here old "web" "site". Ye Olde Blog, as I like to call it.
~~Ideally, the forthcoming outpouring of posts to Ye Olde Blog.  

fashionably tasty gun fights

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forgiveness is divine

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party planning

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insults and injuries

 

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something wicked and something fun

 

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response letter #2 (of worth)

 

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flesh eating bacteria, I'm writing you too

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a letter to a creditor

 

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3rd of july (part 1)

Kevin was basically an average kid. He lived in the suburbs, had his group of friends, held down a part time job, and liked to have a good time just like anyone else. He was a stereotypical high school senior: high school was boring, he and his parents didn't always get along, and he occasionally experimented with drugs and alcohol. He didn't chug vodka or freebase pills or cocaine but he did enjoy a bit of fun from time to time.

Kevin and his friends decided they were going to throw a party at Ryan's place because his parents had gone to Las Vegas for the 4th of July weekend. That year, the 3rd of July was going to be the night to remember. Everyone had functions and fireworks to attend the following day so all of the fixins' were prepared and ready for consumption on the 3rd of July. Nick's older brother had bought the group 2 cases of malted liquor, a twelve pack of Smirnoff ice ("for the ladies" Reggie would say) and an assortment of flavored Bacardi rum bottles. These boys didn't make the most masculine of drink choices but they did know how to get drunk. In addition to the liquids, Reggie intended on taking a "big bag of weed" and his "two most favoritest pipes".

Reggie was very proud of his pipes and bongs and assorted "paraphernalia". His two favorites were "America, The Pipe" so named for its patriotic coloring and "Aunt Jemima", a three foot water bong complete with ice catcher and a "bubbler" in the stem. She was as brown and curvy as her syrupy namesake and Reggie's adoration for her sometimes made the uninitiated a little nervous. Kevin found Reggie with Aunt Jemima when he got to Ryan's house that afternoon.

Kevin- Starting early, Reg?
Reggie- Shut the fuck up dude, you used to be cool. Eat dicks.
Kevin- Thanks bro, love you!
Reggie- Love you too

turkey take-backs and bikinis

 

 

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little more handsy than usual

 

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as for the stars, they're only somewhat aligned

All treats should be like scooby snacks. They're a perfect blend of ambiguous ingredients and exotic flair. Hold on, wait a minute, what is a scooby snack? The beauty of scooby snacks is that they're whatever you make them. Scooby snacks are never clearly defined in scooby doo canon so I feel justified declaring this juicy morsel as a scooby snack for your ears as we drift out here in the expanded universe of the doo.

I write this on a phone so pardon the lack of fancy formatting or pretty paragraphing or however the english majors are styling style these days. Pouring creative fluids into something productive or practical seems a better way to pass the time on your phone than re-re-reading epic fantasy novels and lurking on forums to catch up on the latest theories about what's going to happen to everyone's favorite lord commander of the night's watch in the next book.

Fascinating though it may be, I learned my lesson when it comes to the anticipation of an upcoming event of great importance long ago, and what seems like galaxies away. I was a subscriber to the star wars insider magazine as a youngster all throughout the highly anticipated prequel movies. I grew up watching the empire strikes back on rainy afternoons. Return of the jedi, normally shortly thereafter. My teenaged tumescence was luminescent at the thought of new stories about jedis and stuff.

Then the movies came out and I saw the light fade away along with the engorgement of my member. This was a real fine taste of a series of future disappointments that life would throw my way but I eventually wiped away the tears and put my shirt back on and left the cinema lobby. I survived. I lived. Most importantly, I learned.

Learned though I may have, the lesson never really stuck quite the way it should. I experienced those future disappointments and now I'm here. That's a gross oversimplification of events and yet there it stands.

New chapters of a favorite book can be released on a random basis and you can spend countless hours making inside jokes on who's secretly related to who(m?) or you can get a grip and pop a couple of whatever your favorite scooby snacks may be and go write some words about stuff on the internets.

"Frivolous, speculation is, when patience will reveal all." -Yoda *mic drops*