2003-11-20 - 8:33 p.m.

Thin Hides.

To the people who wonder why I "don't buddy role them," I say this. It's nothing personal. Your shit may be good, but it just doesn't interest me right now. That and I have a very limited capacity to follow multiple stories.

So I'm picky.

I often drop by readers sites to browse, but I'm a better tourist than a fan. But thanks fer fucking reading anyhow.

'Nuff said.

0 of you fuckers have been accounted for.

old shit. - newer shit.

2003-11-20 - 6:08 p.m.

Home Again Home Again Stomp-et-y, Stomp.

Phew. That was a close one. Made it home, in case you were worried about Yours Truly, for only the most stalwart of motherfuckers dare venture into a Vancouver sunny Thursday afternoon after ingesting a handful of �Shroom Smackers.

Yes, it is I and I alone who brave forward in search of replacement footwear for as it would happen, dim-witted readers, I blew a boot today � they�d seen their last hobnail. The toe completely let go and it looked like an angry Disney character with steel piranha teeth.

And so I found myself flopping down Granville in search of replacements.

FLOP� FLOP� FLOP� FLOP� FLOP�

I stopped to light a smoke and caught myself listening to a pair of matching outfits with girls in them. They were playing guitars and had berets and were singing the most horrendously saccharine songs you�d ever have imagined. I listened for what seemed like 26 hours and it never got any better. The worst part is that they had the AUDACITY to sing these horrendous melodies with voices that moved me to slight emotion.

Wow. Two non-sexual/non-angry emotions two days. I must be turning into a gay. What the fuck. At least I�d have an excuse to wear women�s underwear and paint my toe nails.

But I digress.

So with the emotion sitting in my throat like a slimy bronchitis oyster, I gave them $5.00 to keep myself from breaking their guitars Belushi-style. Bitches.

FLOP� FLOP� FLOP� FLOP� FLOP�

And then I found them. The World�s Best Boots. They were the 21st century models of the ones that�d just betrayed me. Indian Motorcycle ankle boots with great leather, a steel toe and low grips so they can steal as dress boots. I can kick ass everyhere now!

STOHHHHHMMMP�.STOMP - STOMP - STOMP - STOMP � STOMP!

On the way home I notice my hands. Only, they are the hands of a god! A CRUSHING GOD! My hands were the most powerful crushing implements on the face of the Earth! I could have crushed Thor AND Mjiolgnir with a mere gesture.

I crushed cars, I crushed cops, I crushed the thin skulls of babies and the elderly. I was a crushing machine.

CRUSH! I�m crushing YOU-CRUSH! Hey! CRUSH!

One cutie actually had the wit enough to counter with a terrific Thumb defensive technique�

�Oooohhh�do you, little harlot believe you can defend yourself against the power of a Crushing God with your acolytes Phalange Perspective Defense?�

�but she soon realized the crushing power held in my thumb and forefinger and conceded to my crushdom.

�HA! CRUSH!�

On the way to the train I was on cigarette 144 when this Pakistani couple pulls up along side of me on the sidewalk, each holding a handle of a huge duffle bag. The female of the pair looks at me and COUGHS that blatant, non-smoker�s hack and says to her husband � while still looking at me, �Smorkeeng shurd be eeleegle eevun in the outdoors.�

WHU�WHA�WH-WHO THE FUCK DID SHE THINK SHE WAS?

I growled at her, �Who the FUCK do YOU think YOU are?� Still walking along side. Husband ignoring me, �You don�t hear me complaining about that rancid smell you call a fragrance do you? Even though I could smell you a half a block back? No? Keep yer fucking editorials to yerself, the rest of the world doesn�t fucking care.�

And that was all I had to say about that.

So there we have it. I�d say I have a good 6 or 7 hours left of Goon left in me and I�ve already decided to take tomorrow off. Work after �shrooms is useless. Or at least I like to say that, just to kid myself.

Noo goo suck eh fert, yeh precks. Ah�m dune wehth yehs fer noo...

�but you�re on fucking call, just you fucking remember that.

0 of you fuckers have been accounted for.

old shit. - newer shit.