nelson.

(305): Party in the USA is so catchy!
(863): Yea, so is AIDS.

(802): I bought beer tonight and got 3 coupns with my receipt. Paper towels, laundry detergent, and Advil. I wonder if Stop & Shoppredicts the future or just does this with every beer purchase.

I am sitting here with my mom looking at toddler halloween costumes. I have determined that my kid will be a gnome, probably for a couple years- just until its height kicks in. (if its my kid, then it will be destined to be a gnome or something similiar until its 10 and can buy “real” people costumes.

But I was telling my mom that if I had a baby close to Halloween… i will merely tape a tube to the babies belly button and call it a fetus. yay for creative ideas.

I love you like kings love queens
Like a gay geneticist loves designer jeans
I need you like New Orleans needs a drought
Like Hitler’s father needed to learn to pull out

And I want you like a lawyer/mathematician wants some kind of proof.
And I want you like JFK wanted a car with a roof.

Cause love is taking a dive,
then getting really comfortable and peeing in the pool.
And love is real life porn
minus all the stuff that makes porn cool
And love is a homeless guy searching for treasure in the middle of the rain
and finding a bag of gold coins and slowly finding out that they’re all filled with chocolate and even though he’s heartbroken he cant complain cause he was hungry in the first place

I love you like Dora loves maps
Like the pope’s toilet loves holy craps
I need you like a voyeur needs a branch
Like boys tossing salad needs a little bit of Never land ranch
And I want you, yeah, like all the gothic kids that look exactly the same never want to conform
And I want you like Anne Frank wanted
no one to read her fucking diary
Cause a diary’s a collection of secret things that no one is suppose to read
That’s the whole point of a diary
Millions of people have breached this little girls privacy after she was chased by nazis
Kick her while she’s down

And if we met in 10000bc I was your caveman, Youz my cavelady
If we got hot we’d start rubbing
If we got hungry we’d go clubbing
There’s wooly mammoths but i will protect us
You’re making me devolve to a homo-erectus

And if we met in 1780
I was a white southern aristocratic plantation owner And you were my dark-skinned servant lady
slave
Whenever I could get away from the misses
I’ll go to your shed and then I’ll steal you kisses
But let’s be serious I’d still work you full time as a slave
Theres a difference between romantic language and a complete disregard for socio-economic trends
And if we met in 1941
I was a nazi Youz a gypsy on the run
That’s a little redundant
That…probably wouldnt’ve worked out.

Because love is your favorite food for every breakfast lunch and dinner
And love is the holocaust except you don’t die quick and you don’t get thinner
And love is being the owner of the company that makes rape whistles
And even though you started the company with good intentions trying to reduce the rate of rape
Now you don’t want to reduce them at all cause if the rape rate declines you’ll see an equal decline in whistle sales
Without rapists who’s gonna buy your whistles?
Love is all about…
whistles

these lyrics are submitted by J3ss3

i never know what to do when i’m home. i play piano. i work. i eat. but once in a while i will be stuck in the tar pits of boredom. like i am now. so why not write a blog? just to set the scene: i am alone in my bedroom, in my underwear, sitting on my bed, alone. well, not completely alone. i hired the old woman down the street to periodically throw tumbleweeds across the room just to enhance the mood. 

should i do for my birthday?