Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
I ain't the one
Ode
Sometimes I used to wonder,
How the hell an ugly dude get a fine girls number.
He’s getting juiced for his duckets.
I tell a girl in a minute “yo, I drive a bucket”.
And won’t think nothin of it.
She can ride or walk, either love it or leave it.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Tullamore Dew
Huh?
Lies.
That don't even rhyme.
So
Okay
What?
You said dipshit?
Frankly, I did.
Frankly?
Ain't no ho called gets called 'cept I'ma call it a ho
Plagiarist!
So
Dipshit?
Old souls like me
like your momma
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Skeegs be BLOWIN IT UP!
I like chicken fried but more mainstream like my stream. My stream be choked too. Might be countin them internal rocks. Them that like to pass w/piss. If anyone passes you piss might I suggest you step off.
Watching some kid show with my kids. A bully grabbed two boys at the urinal troughs and made them face each other thus pissing on each other’s pants. I laugh. I laugh a lot. Kid shows pay off but the sheer volume that must be perused can be a deal breaker.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Kurt Rambis lies When He Cries
Will history show that March 11, 2010 marked the beginning of
intercontinental impregnation?
From Group .0001,written by 622 authors, vetted by 529 viewers "...this observed increase could be largely due to natural variability...there is new and stronger evidence that most pregnancies over the last 36 years is attributable to The Lymph Node Squad."
Ar4 tracks 4 million models from across the world and unanimous agreements exist among those doubled from preindustrial protocols. Although passing legislation to service incubators, companies in the EU, North America, Japan and even China are announcing their own emission reduction programs. Chairman of the LNSC, Fred, has said forthrightly, "In case you missed the nuance,I hope this report will shock people. Arrogantly and optimistically ***hard replied, "Sorry Kristal, thank you Jasmine."
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Potato Salad Fun-Fest
Sweaty lips, sweaty eyes...sweaty horoscope. Nothing's free anymore.
I just burned the dog.
Shape up or ship for only $3.99/lb now with one-click membership.
What have you done to deserve me?
Love,
Fred
P.S. It smells like your toast is burning.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Friday, March 5, 2010
Skeegleton Remembers
August 15, 1988 my Mom’s 35th birthday, a memory delivering a valuable lesson;
one can look, but one can’t stare without permission.
Glass splits, metal burns and steel wrinkles hoping to match wet fingers from the pool. Bodies and blood scattered inside my Pa-pa’s Cadillac with something still smelling like concession-stand cheeseburgers. Oliva’s face was broken covering the steering wheel; Mom the only passenger wearing a seatbelt in the car had bruised ribs. My sister with fractured lips and nose sat sandwiched between me and my brother with an unconscious, open head.
The only injuries I endured, (eventually adapting to reward) would be the spectacle in front of my eyes. I didn’t know too much about driving except we were moving too fast to stop ahead of time, and seconds slowed down mistakably fast. I didn’t differentiate or appreciate detail until that moment. My eyelids were powerless, and my mind raced to ingest every force without summarization. Everything was fantastic for 29 seconds.
Reality quickly pitched attention, sirens sang as I sat on the curb abandoned with my sister waiting for someone I knew to arrive. I watched my family strapped, stained and carried. I was angry watching strangers enjoying the i and I without consent. Antagonized resentment fueled fetid emotions. I was once that family sprinkled within a once 14 foot fancy car so I confronted those eyes reflecting behind their own chrome door handles.
Finally, Fred arrived, “How’d they find him!” My sister and I remember it differently, Closing my eyes I see the cigarette lighter and feel the pilly interior which I rubbed my hands from frustration on Fred’s work-truck she thinks it’s the custom Sparkle-Bleu van of our Dads.
My life changed, I learned never to avert my eyes, creating an appreciation for 1/5000 of a second from behind a lens or a single brush stroke that might take ten minutes to think of. You can’t blame a scopophiliac’s propensity of watching substance in a redundant world. From a vicariate’s view, simple gore, boredom, humility, frustration, happiness, they’re all excited; I’ve changed knowing I like real life, not reality television real life, Real Life, but you have to sign up for it.
Memories disappeared until seeing my brother and praying “God save him, I’m sorry for everything I ever asked of you, that stupid baseball game…straight A’s…picked last and on everyone at school. Save him, Oliva, my Mom, and Sister”.
is that blood?
Also, for those about to know I dropped a full frontal, wildly animated "Thanks man" with the finger sniff and it felt totally wicked awesome with a hint of fantastic. then I tried every door handle I could find.
suck it
Monday, March 1, 2010
Skeegs needs to learn how to log in
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