It's Like Getting Your Ninth Telemetron After You've Lain Out In The Sun Too Long and Your Shoulder's Fucked, But Everything Just Makes Sense. Ironic

kasai (10:54:24 PM): p.s. i was just "smoking with the band"
friend (10:54:32 PM): hahashaha
kasai (10:54:32 PM): i'm soooo stoned
friend (10:54:41 PM): hahahahahahhaa


kasai (10:57:47 PM): it's pathetic how high i just got
kasai (10:57:51 PM): i'm like ashamed


kasai (10:58:02 PM): i feel like i'm literally in 8th grade


friend (10:58:09 PM): hahaha
kasai (10:58:16 PM): i'm wearing this big allover print hoodie and a zoo york shirt



kasai (10:58:27 PM): and looking at my bank account and wondering where it all went
kasai (10:58:28 PM): haha
kasai (10:58:42 PM): just resisting the urge to go to cyn [the bar i spent 15 consecutive hours in a few sundays ago -.ed]


kasai (10:58:43 PM): haha
kasai (11:00:23 PM): and the lenny kravitz glasses are on.


kasai (11:00:24 PM): here we go
kasai (11:00:33 PM): ps i'm taking the plunge and getting a macbook wed [haha what? -.ed]

working... working...

[picture is introduced by Kasai]


kasai (11:01:54 PM): the girl is like "i'm just gonna slouch over here cuz there's no way i can compete with THAT!"
kasai (11:01:55 PM): haha
kasai (11:02:42 PM): "like are you kidding, it's a maserati mc12 corsa. get the fuck outta heah!"
kasai (11:02:54 PM): "go fuck your mutha!"


friend (11:04:53 PM): 'haha
kasai (11:04:59 PM): ohhhh. i'm on a roll
kasai (11:05:10 PM): that's literally what she's saying in that photo
kasai (11:05:33 PM): she probably did like the blue steel catwalk thing, draping herself over the long, sensuous hood, for like 15 min


kasai (11:05:47 PM): and then realized that not ONE SINGLE GUY was looking at her


kasai (11:05:52 PM): or even close to her
friend (11:06:02 PM): hhahahah
friend (11:06:11 PM): i used to see that all the time [Ibid.]
kasai (11:06:30 PM): see what
kasai (11:06:35 PM): spot run?


friend (11:07:18 PM): seen girls do that


kasai (11:07:29 PM): oh yeah
kasai (11:07:31 PM): but
kasai (11:07:34 PM): this car
kasai (11:07:37 PM): like 2 mil


kasai (11:07:55 PM): and you can only drive it when maserati sponsors these racetrack days
kasai (11:08:35 PM): then after you're done driving, you have to sit down with engineers and discuss how the car performed, how it could be improved, and what you hated most about


kasai (11:08:38 PM): it
kasai (11:08:40) and there's only like 4 of em and they belong to the 4 richest kings of Europe! I'M SUPER SERIÅL YOU GUYS!
kasai (11:08:41 PM): haha i'm sorry
kasai (11:08:47 PM): all this just really fascinates a stoned kasai


kasai (11:11:34 PM): (spoken in that quick, nasally 1930s radio announcer voice) "a rare breed, the stoned kasai can often be spotted on epicly toxic 3 night benders in any one of the five fine boroughs of the majestic gem that is Glimmerin' Gotham. though he may ramble on incessantly and shoot you the deuce now and then, when he pinches your girl's ass and punches you out preemptively, don't take it personally chief."


kasai (11:12:01 PM): ps i'm archiving this convo
kasai (11:12:04 PM): cuz it's priceless, like a beer bong
“friend” signed off at 11:12:06 PM.
bye. byeeee. bye. byeye. buhbyebooptit! bai. bahhhh. late. the moops have come hoome to roost.





epilogue

1: "sir, sir! SIR! needtaseasumeyedeepreese!"

2: "yeah don't worry about it, i'm a stoo-dye at the scrole, over on mashmen, they got a good whim over there, it's peeshable, nite right?. yeah yeah yeah yeah right up there on the hirl. now uh, go shit in a hat, mail it your mutha."

MEANWHILE, IN THE BOY BAND: ONE sulks away in gleeful shame as TWEW triumphantly scratches his balls.

Another Reissue: Originality is Dead. Lajos Egri Said So Himself. And That Was in 1942 motherfuckers!

have you ever awakened on a tuesday morning in your own private hell, sun mocking you through filthy, curtainless glass, the inside of your skull being scraped at by an agitated demon with an icy implement, simply because you've decided to "clean up" for the week?

is each week loaded with regretful incidents (usually involving the opposite sex) that secretly bring a smile to your face?

is your creativity flowing into new ways to cop rather than lucrative artistic ventures?

do you often find yourself selling things (TVs, DVDs, IPods, amps, guitars, stolen digital cameras) in sweaty desperation?

is the Kentucky Gentleman always at your side?

ever fallen flat on your face in a crowded American shopping hub, simply because you've neglected to feed the need for a few hours?

do you frequently find yourself succumbing to "rum fits?"

have you ever dreamt of being adopted by Pete Doherty?

do you enjoy the sensation of punching through glass?

is a gallon of cheap bourbon, some eightballs, a blowtorch, a couple of roided-up pitbulls, and a vintage stihl chainsaw your idea of a quiet night in?

are 'forced disappearances' and 'ransom negotiation' parts of your skill set?

do you see the speed limit as more of a suggestion than an enforceable law?

do you prefer intensive farm labor to a few quick sets at your local gymnasium?

have you ever pulled on dozens of car door handles on the way home with your mates from the pub, hoping that some hapless fuck has left his new 3-Series coupe unlocked?

are you considered reckless, irresponsible, or otherwise a danger to those around you?

do you entertain the notion of sending pipe bombs to MTV Headquarters?

can you take a punch?

can you take a bullet?

do you spend considerable portions of the day considering the best ways to pull off a bank robbery?

do you idolize 1989-1995 era Mike Tyson?

do you have a strong aversion to cameraphones?

are you trill?

are you constantly frustrated by the naivete, ignorance, and stupidity of those around you?

do you prefer 5.99 Zelko to anything on the top shelf?

is Hong Kong piracy in your near future?

have you ever beaten someone within inches of their life for no reason other than that you take orgasmic joy from the sight of bludgeoned flesh and shattered bone?

do you wish you could mastermind a heist rivaling Lufthansa, split to Bogata, and join the FARC?

do you consider marijuana an utter annoyance rather than a "hard" drug?

is at least one person after your life?

are you completely alienated from your family as a result of beasting out (or at least on the way)?

no?

kill yourself.

yes?

pull up that chair over there rhyme scheme jr.

we'd like to have a talk with you.


"Substance abuse is the cornerstone of beasting out." - No. 1 Sex Mouth

"Car bombs? Nice try pussy. Jager Bombs? Why not just watch Failure to Launch. Saki bombs? I'm not gonna say it, but you know what I'm thinking. No, no gentlemen, there is only one concoction sufficent for the manical substance cravings of Street Thunder: The Street Thunder Sawed Off. It consists of one shot of horse steroid, one shot of pure mexican black tar H, three lines of high grade cocaine, a vial of pcp, a bandana soaked in LSD (which you will be wearing), a fifth of Kentucky Gentlemen and a bench press set with three plates on each side of the bar. And the process? Pour the vial of pcp into the bourbon, drop your pants and prepare to intiate full bore beast mode: snort all three lines in succession and immediatly follow by chugging the entire bottle in under 10 seconds while your one friend shoots the steroids in your ass and your other friend fixes the H in your non-chugging arm. Finish the bottle, smash it over your head, rep the bar 10 times and then punch a woman in the face." - Dollar Bill