I did not go out to my usual Sunday haunt for the first time in months. I hate to be at work at 5am for four hours of sweet ass double overtizzle. I did actual work for roughly forty minutes of the four hours, and made jokes about the handicapped to kill the rest of the time. Pimp juice.
I stopped at a place I used to frequent for a paper and a cup of coffee, and low and behold, I saw John McCain's campaign bus parked in a hotel parking lot. I don't think he (or "Le Cunt") were around, as there was no discernible media presence. I wanted to do something not very nice to the bus for a moment, but I stopped to reconsider, as the Secret Service no doubt has several portable hard drives' worth of information on me and my activities already.
They can monitor our thoughts from space you know. The Man, that is. This is based on fact:
I plan to nap today. Napping is the physical equivalent of saying "blow me, chores and responsibilities!" The longer you nap, the louder you say it. Say it loud. Say it proud.
Holy shit, I almost forgot to mention it! I saw a plane this morning, a large plane, a Boeing 757, with the tail number "666." That, my friends, is pretty bad ass, even if it is just a relatively unknown commercial airliner. I'm surprised no one has offered to buy that registration. Useless fact: the Heinz corporate jet has the tail number "57."
Working new material tomorrow at The Smiling Moose. John McCain dance joke making a debut. You know it's going to be hilarious. Be there.
By now, you guys are probably well aware that I really like Louis C.K. In the past year, I've really become a fan of his. I believe his thought process is similar to the one I have. I very rarely say "I wish I'd thought of that," but I pretty much fucking screamed it after I saw this. I laughed so hard. Period. In my opinion(which, depending on who you are, is worth between 4 and 1.3 million of your opinions) he is, and has been for a while now, the "next great American comedian."
I need to buy shampoo. My hair has returned, but only to remind me of my genetic short comings. I expect to be horribly bald by thirty. My hairline is going already, I'm thinning up top too, and Goddamn it, I'm only 24! I think I should keep it at about the length it is now. If it gets any longer, I'll look like a lesbian, and I'm not suited to give people advice on motorcycle engines and feminist literature. If I keep it shaven, I'm told I look older than I am, and I give off quite the "rapist" vibe. I'm OK with it being shaven, I love it, actually, but I am not a fan of forced sex. I want it to be the right time for my right hand and I. Ugh. Sorry. Too late to delete now.
This, is the best song in their catalog. They, are possibly the greatest "party band" of all time. I know, I know, but I don't count P-Funk as a party band! P-Funk is a lifestyle!
I'm gonna be pounding overtime. I say "pounding," because I checked the value of the dollar, and had a good laugh.
(What other comedian who blogs drops currency double entendres? Too fucking good, bitches!)
If you don't understand Kanye West, you were never meant to understand much of anything fun, or anything real, or anything alive.
Extra video today. Mostly because iTunes just spat this out at me and you know I'm with it. The goal is soul.
At the end of a long, beautiful day, I support getting down.
Oh come on, Jesus would totally crush a beer can with His head!-BK
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