i have my critics

i guess everyone does. but my critics are lazy. i have a lot to attack, but they always go for the most obvious things.

date a girl for while who’s 19 and they say i like younger chicks. date a girl with big boobs and they’ll say im a boob man. date a hawaiian nba cheerleader and they’ll say ive got asian fever.


this is why people dont go to your web page, idiots.

anyone can see that im an extremely equal-opportunity dater, and you cant even call me a player since my relationships last years and years. so if you’re going to criticize me, at least do it in an area where i dont kick your ass repeatedly.

like felching.

from what i hear you’re quite skilled there. so brag about it, tell the world im rotten at it, then sign your damn name to it, you pathetic hump. and dont lie and say that you’ve been my friend for years and you know me because i live in a fantasy world where none of my friends talk shit about each other. we love each other. we have for years and we will forever. it’s disgusting in its sweetness. bizarre, really.

and it’s not even as cliquish as you’d think. layne didnt go to ucsb, nor did axel, or monty, or emmanuelle, or a lot of people who you’ll see at the tsar shows or at the rustic or any place featuring mc brown, which is what keeps it fresh and fun and interesting — and normal.

my friends are real people who are intelligent and creative and open minded and loving and beautiful– and we dont talk shit about each other cuz the only thing that we could diss each other for is for not taking the world by the cajones and turning the whole place into what we have here.

cynthia lander, miss venezuela knows a thing or two about cajones. her great uncle was Ezequiel Zamora, one of the most beloved and important leaders her country ever had. defender of the federation, fighter for the poor.

75 young women will vie for the crown of Miss Universe and cynthia has refused to hold back. who doesn’t love a latin lady who isnt afraid to show a little leg? who doesnt love a woman who won her country’s crown a blonde— a gorgeous blonde— but has chosen to keep it real for the big pageant?

bonne chance, my little 20 year old bonita petite fleur.

viva la revolution!

people ask me all the time when im gonna get hitched

maybe they should wonder when im gonna get a car, first. or even a steady girlfriend.

baby steps, superstars, baby steps.

and since half of american marriages end in divorce, and since i dont want to be on the wrong side of that coin flip, i think that its a good idea to take ones time before falling for the first blonde bombshell that jumps in my lap.

i just want a normal life.

whats normal? well if i had a hot chick girlfriend and we were together this is what would be normal today.

first id come home and we’d make pornstar love on the coffee table in the front room. why there? because i have these great flowers there that chris gave me this weekend and they smell awesome.

then i’d rustle up some grub and we’d have that with a fresh bottle of vino. why vino? cuz just like kid rock, im a classy motherfucker.

then we’d head over to Spaceland by ten pm and listen to Justin’s band Psoma who have their debut record coming out and tonight is their record release party/concert. At eleven Nerf Herder hits the stage and I love Parry and I cant believe i’ve only seen them play once!

during the show we’d get drunk so we’d take a sloppy cab ride home and hit the hay in a heap.

it’s starting to get nice out so we’d sleep with the window cracked open, tangled, happy, with smiles on our faces.

somewhere in there i would like some ice cream with hot fudge. i guess thats where life comes in with its charming little surprises.