:: Porkchop Serum ::

:: Friday, April 11, 2003 ::

This is as fucking cool as the other side of the hand that slapped your momma

Please right-click and download this to view.

:: sandy 8:01 PM [+] ::
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My cousins bachelor party is up in Bal'more on the 19th.. right at the end of your visit. unfortunate.

you best post here soon. I can't do all this myself. You must Rectumfy this situation.

:: sandy 8:57 AM [+] ::
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Words to live by from the recently released ODBizzah

I done thrown stupid parties all through your town
Dirt McGirt...that's my motherfucking name
Love to flirt...that's my motherfucking game
They said "Who wanna be an MC?"
I am the original G-O-D

:: sandy 12:02 AM [+] ::
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Who's got the blown zone to bring out the chicken bone hell-cone!? I flap strap-slaps on the back of jimminy cricket rats with bats of pork fat! Who are you to clean the silly green breen? They're so lean with their keen e-zine spilling seen eye-beams on top of the chilly steam clean!!!!

:: sandy 12:25 PM [+] ::
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I missed it too. I hear they won. lets check the scores right now as I type..Nice OT win against the Celtics but damn.. Those losses to the fucking WARRIORS a couple games ago.. That is just killer. Strangely enough, the Bucks have four games left and we have 6. Even though we're 2 games back, it could be theoretically 1 (although we're in control of those two extra games) Awesome how fucking close this season is becoming. I'd LOVE to see MJ in the playoffs one last time.

Dude, EVERYONE hates Sundays. Unfortunately for you, you apparently feel at two speeds, Full Throttle and Full braking, so what I feel as a little pestering acidic gnome in the back of my mind saying, "You have to go back to WOOORRRKKKK" is a ravenous, rabid, mutant warthog slamming around inside your brain.

BTW, whats this puking business?

And another BTW, such craziness this afternoon. So, Sean's van got STOLEN last night at some point. He gets a call this morning from the Arlington County Pork Patrol informing him that they're over in the employees parking lot of CostCo, standing next to his idling, slightly askew, van. They're really nice, probably due to the fact that they notice his volunteer firefighter ID hanging from the rear view. There's the obvious damage. A jimmied door lock and various pieces of the ignition switch on the floor. The strange this is the stuff that's missing: The 2nd and 3rd row of seats and Te's golf clubs. The clubs we can understand, but the seats? Are they ultrarare and lined with gold or somethingp? We're all baffled. We bullshit with the cops for a couple minutes while they dust the van. Soon they start to leave but one stays behind to finish the printing. Two minutes later, the remaining officer gets word from his buddy that he's found the seats and the clubs around the block from our apartment. So, apparently, these dorks stole the van, drove it around back, kicked out the seats and the clubs, went off to do whatever.. (any ideas) and later returned to dump the van in the Costco parking lot. Amazing, huh? In the end, Sean gets all his things back and the Te van has a little superficial damage. Wild stuff..

Kind of sounds like something our two antagonists would do.

Third BTW, did you see my ghost post? It blows the most gross Joes out the snow chosen Ho's!!!!!

:: sandy 9:48 PM [+] ::
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Wind Sirens, Banana Killer!! The Wind is wailing... to you!!!

:: sandy 4:19 AM [+] ::
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Perhaps. I like Thora. The Female Thor. I could dig it.

We had a brief encounter with a netherbeing. Tonight was one of those perfect nights. 50 degrees.. breezy.. quiet. Like being inside that cemetary the first time Adam and I smoked up. It felt as if someone had left the door open and beings could transit unbeknownst to themselves. A mossy courtyard of intermingling spirits and cold human lumps swerving between the granite markers. Alas, they would be just as startled to face us on a dark 18th street. Only tree leaves and low clouds moving now.. In truth, you would melt away into the sharp darkness but that drifting breeze has awoken your skin to beings in the distance.

Sean and I were watching the last forth of Gods and Monsters (Ian Mckellan is a superb actor) when a familiar ruckus arose in the foyer. A plastic clammering and squeal of old springs. Adam's home. Sean doesn't notice but I do that no forms emerge from the night. No fridges open for late ransacking. Just silence and again the dialogue maintains attention. But I remember the cause without effect. Tiny sounds, like grit beneath shoes or smacking of lips, right there in the foyer. Motionless but audible. I was close to asking Sean to verify or perhaps rising myself to spy from the kitchen. Was it an armed murderer pausing to listen to the movie? A change of heart or a plea from outside? Or perhaps an ethereal mass trapped at the threshold of a human dwelling, patiently hovering.

:: sandy 4:11 AM [+] ::
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