Help, I'm A Rock!

a self-fulfilling prophecy, huh? while a lot of the country is concerned with perfectly acceptable things like spider-man 3 opening weekend, nba playoffs, de la hoya vs. mayweather, picnicking maybe.

what are we doing?

well, anthropophagous beast, timemachine, muscle matt, konvict keri, dangerous dave, killa kos, timechild, and jade "pour some" lien "in my cup," well, are pretty much trying to see just how far millenia of evolution have really taken us.

"how much can this fragile vessel really handle?" we wondered out loud. drive it hard and put it away wet being the mission statement; more good times serving as both our morals and our ethics.

trying to really, well, live in the moment and be the moment simultaneously, anomalies, yeah? anachronisms that will 5,000 years from now be regarded as the unofficial link between homo sapiens sapiens and the next stuck-up, overachieving, telekinetic, overlarge incarnation of the species. cursed with indestructibility, yet able to come to grips with demi-god status. we're fucking talking hypersensory perception children, completely jacked in to the synchronicity that dominates much of modern life.

fucking vampiric, energized by the delirium of sleep deprivation and politician-grade moral flexibility.

this is your brain. now this is your brain at its most masochistic, its most dissociative. feel good tv off. self-inflicted embalming, pounding the pavement amidst families and couples literally cocooned by decency, stability, and sensibility.

but for now, there's only those like us (or our mortal betters who we seek to befriend, betray, and behead) that hunt with the lights out. going through the motions, at slightly above mach 2.

the antisocial soldiers brigade fighting corps squad militia team hell bent on freaking out the cubes and taking what we want, when we want. twiddling our thumbs, impatiently waiting for the meth epidemic to cast a dark, horrifying cloud over the american northeast like so many killer africanized bees. among other things.

but at its core, this weekend was a test yeah? i mean if we're really honest. like i'm thinking paternity, aids, sat, driving, bar exam, pilot's, pregnancy, act, lsat, gre, mcat, gmat, the memory game, and simon says all in one. the fork in the road as it were. and i've been caught cheating a few times in the past. and maybe i didn't study. never intended to.

jesus what? incessant gotham metropolis supercenter fuckpit hub? can he really hack it up there, among all the enterprising immigrants and the snot-nosed starfuckers and the heartless club kids and the global conglomerates and those wacky sicilians and the 100 year old sewers and the waif boys in girls' jeans and the girls, deprived of their jeans, striding proudly through the filth and the noise and the heat with their victorian dresses and adorable kids' shoes and flowers in their hair?


i'm writing this aren't i? so as 311 once said, fuck the naysayers cuz it don't mean a thing, cuz this is what style we bring. don't act like you don't know what i'm talking about. god i fucking miss the 90s.

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