Friday, January 11, 2013
He's a Clown Car with an Extra Car
United has changed it’s home game starting time from 7:30 to 7:00 except for start times dictated by TV contractual obligations, I ranted at Thursday Night Pints. Setting aside a lower case fuck you for TV contractual obligations, let me send out a FUCK YOU, UNITED! for the move to 7:00. I’ll be there, but I’ll need short something good in Saturday’s daylight I can’t reclaim at 9:10 in the dark, I’m in a parking lot in DC queueing to queue on the BW Parkway, I’ve lost three to six holes depending on difficulty of disc golf course, lost two miles of hiking, you fucks. You fucks, I added for emphasis. I bet you however many pints of stupid small glasses of nyquil you wager, the home kits will be red by time of fuck-me-jig (before the fuck-me-jig, the fuck-me-jig will never be ready), LOUD SIDE! will be in an endzone, they’re gonna cut the balls off the best part of the experience as soon as they fucking can. Does it beat not having a team of indifferent mediocre soccer-playing professionals? As always, fine fucking metaphors abound. L said, you've fallen behind on the Proust, haven't you. Yes, I said.
See, at this point I think blooger is deliberately fucking with people. Up until two days ago I couldn't change link colors in chrome, I had to go to firefox to change colors. Yesterday and today firefox wouldn't allow me to change link colors, I figured oh well, fuck blooger and all, back to bulletpoints. This morning I see an article on the Purple Line, I traditionally bright purple it, I try to in chrome, and I can now change link colors in chrome. I'd forgive blooger much if I knew they were fucking with me for giggles. Origins of neo-liberalism, part three. Daily motherfucking Obama. Are designations congruent with things? No dogs barking. His generation's greatest academic fraud. I say that admiringly still, just not with as much joy as once. Stop versus cease. Cyclorama to be destroyed. Anheuser-Busch to introduce two new crappy beers. Your 4/20 soccer match. For those relatively new to me, I've promised to do a Fuck-Me-Jig in front of my seat in a new soccer-specific stadium in the District, have a friend record it, and post the youtube, so little faith did I have (and still have) there will be a new SSS in the District when I made the offer six lifetimes ago. RIP Evan Connell. Prekop. New Jim James song. I've long fallen out of love w/MMJ, but. Three hours of noise and syrup. Berio. Thanks, here's where today's cascade got sparked.
FOR THE MAN WITH THE ERECTION LASTING MORE THAN FOUR HOURS
He's supposed to call his doctor, but for now he's the May King with his
He's hallelujah. He's glory hole. The world has more women than he can
shake a stick
at. The world is his brickbat, no conscience to prick at, all of us Germans he can ich
lieber dich at. He's Dick and Jane. He's Citizen Kane. He's Bob Dole.
He's Peter the Great. He's a czar. He's a clown car with an extra car.
Funiculi, Funicula. He's an organ donor. He works pro boner. He's folderol.
He's fiddlesticks. He's the light left on at Motel 6. He's free-for-alls.
He's Viagra Falls. He's bangers and mash. He's balderdash. He's a wanker.
He's got his own anchor. He's whack-a-doodle. King Canoodle. He's a pirate,
Silver, walking his own plank. He has science to thank. He's in like Flynn. He's
holding his breath, cock of the walk through the valley of the shadow of death.
hickory dickorous, the mouse run up the clock. He's shock and awe. He's Arkansas.
He's the package, the deal, the Good Housekeeping Seal. He's Johnson
He's a god now, the talk of the town. He's got no place to go but down.