Salvia.
Just so you people know, I do not smoke marijuana or do any kinds of drugs. After checking the legality of Salvia I thought I'd give it a shot. Some good friends all said that they just laughed really hard and that the "high" lasted only about 2-10 minutes.
Salvia divinorum, an extract which is legal in Texas as of this moment seemed like a neat thing to do the other night. Oh Lord. BAD IDEA.
Apparently Salvia comes in a few different strengths. I think it comes in 20X, 40X, and 60X. Smart Phil decided to try a little bit of 60X salvia.
So after creating a makeshift bong out of a Dr. Pepper bottle I sat down on the couch at a friend's house. With some friends around to make sure I didn't eat a kitten or dig a hole in the kitchen I lit up and inhaled a nice blast of 60X Salvia divinorum.
As I hand the bong away the room started shifting UP as if my eyes were rolling downwards and I had to keep it from flying away. Then everything turned into tiny pinpoints of light. Then ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE. It SUCKED.
For one reality ceased to exist completely. Waves upon waves of hopelessness and despair just washed over me, and all I wanted was to make it stop. But of course I was stupid and decided to try this crap and it was gonna be in me for a bit. I felt as if what I was seeing was all that there ever would be and I couldn't get out of the damn feeling. The world was black and white and it was all just static rolling upwards. I melted into the couch. I felt like I was doing flips. I couldn't feel my body or smell anything. Objects kept changing form and flattening. The worst part was when everything became 2D. What the hell. Why is everything 2D. I feel like I've been flattenedi into a sheet of paper and I'm in a drawing. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream, but nope! OWNED! I felt like a little druggy punk who had just realized that he had OD'd. I tried to talk, I could get bits of words out but not anything intelligent. I tried wiping what I assume was drool from the corner of my mouth and trying again and again but nothing would happen. I could hear my friends talking but since I was part of the couch and they were smudges of color nothing made sense. I heard "Stop freaking out," "you're going to be fine," and "it's only going to last a few minutes." Trying to take consolation in my friends and realizing that the feeling was just getting stronger and not going away I asked the time again. 5 minutes. A longer feeling than what I heard from everyone else. My vision became like watching TV static with channels just barely getting through. STOP. STOP. NOW. Nope, you're stuck buddy. You're screwed. I wanted the feeling to stop so badly I apparently mentioned the word "hospital."
I asked the time again since I kept sinking into the couch. The sound of "tr" from trouble and "sp" from the word hospital kept echoing in my head and for some reason it was my main focus. I felt like I wanted to go to sleep but I didn't want to because I was so scared that I wouldn't wake up.
Does it sound fun? IT WAS NOT. At one point it felt like nothing mattered and I wanted to kill myself. Suicidal? That's not me at all. Every negative feeling in the world was just amplified a hundred fold. Fear, Guilt, Sadness, Anger. It was as if the feeling of joy would never come back to me.
I ask a friend how long it had been. 35 minutes. THIRTY FIVE MINUTES. I was panicking out. Never have I heard of anyone tripping out for that long on Salvia. 45 minutes. What if I messed up my brain and this is what it was forever? More fear and more sadness. More hate at myself for ever trying this crap. At about the one hour mark the feeling started to dissipate slowly. People actually began to come back into focus. I still felt cold and I had to have a blanket over me. My muscles would not quit tensing up.
At about an hour and 15 minutes I was able to talk normally and realize that the feeling was going away and that I was going to be alright.
I may have been one of those few who get the feeling of dysphoria when smoking salvia. Maybe not. But for an hour of my life I went through hell. I won't ever be trying it again. EVER. No, screw that, I'll never be trying ANY hallucinogen or other drug ever again.
So that was my salvia experience. The worst hour of my entire life. It's going to be illegal soon with effects like that. I guarantee it. I am NOT glad I tried that. Haha, which reminds me! Somebody said to me as I was coming down from my experience that I should be a spokesperson for D.A.R.E. Most definitely.
I wouldn't recommend Salvia to anyone. Ever. I feel good now though! Sheesh! I mostly feel good because I know I'm not gonna be suckered into trying drugs in the future. It would really suck to be addicted to LSD or Acid or something. Hell, I hear Acid trips last like 13 hours. F that.
Alright peeps, it's New Year's Eve and I gotta look pimp. L8rz.
Drug free is the way to be!
P-Thuggin
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
Random Thoughts Part 3
I have a plethora of arbitrary (random) thoughts I would like all of you to think about during the Christmas holidays. Only one pertains to Christmas.
Thought 1:
Cheech Marin in Cheech and Chong's Up in Smoke is quite buff. I had no idea trashy Mexicans could be that ripped yet sit around and smoke weed all day. But don't let Senor Cheech of Marijuana, Mexico fool you. Cheech Marin has the largest collection of Chicano art in the world. I actually learned that back in high school. Of course that was the only thing I remember from my dogshit art class. Also it's important to note that Tommy Chong's career is laughable. Therefore Cheech is better than Chong. One more thing, Cheech's name comes from chicharron, spicy fried pork skin.
Thought 2:
I learned a wonderful phrase long ago from my friend Mitch Ingram. The latin phrase cum grano sali means "with a grain of salt." If you and other friends are the only ones who know this phrase's meaning it's always fun to say it around jackasses who use Wikipedia for arguments (see Thought 3).
Thought 3:
Wikipedia is the best source of information in the world for retards and assholes. Hands down. Wikipedia is NEVER wrong (cum grano sali). Wikipedia is the reason that you always lose arguments against said people.
Semi-Intelligent Dude: "Dude, I'm not sure if global warming is really even a problem."
Asshole Douche Using Wikipedia: "Dude, haven't you seen The Day After Tomorrow? According to the scientific report released in 2003, which of course the movie was based on, the influxx of arctic wolves into New York City from their attraction to gum on the sidewalk will cause a massive amount of heat generated by their coats vibrating against the limestone-embedded pavement which in turn will cause a chain reaction leading to the clearing of all Mexico's debts. You don't even know man..."
"...that you're a douche?"
My point exactly.
Thought 4:
Dyeing your cat in Kool-Aid does not work very well. Trust me. I tried it just a few minutes ago (seriously) and it failed. The cat is now licking at such a fast speed that Captain Picard is totally impressed. I'm kinda hoping Aprilia won't die because it's cold outside and burying her would be a total hassle. But of course we do have a freezer...
adaadThought 5:
Where do weevils come from?
(Yes, that's all of Thought 5)
Thought 6:
My Pillar of Cancer, which is comprised of oodles of smokeless tobacco cans, is now 53'' tall. Also, one should always remember that the character ' means feet and " means inches. Spinal Tap got it wrong with their Stonehenge setup and I'm dead serious when I say I've never made the mistake after seeing that movie. SPINAL TAP CHANGED MY LIFE! Yes, yes it did. Anyways, I only need 9 more cans to make my floor to ceiling lamp. It's going to be a "shining" reminder of the constant threat of cancer. *snicker*
Thought 7:
So is it just me or is the French Foreign Legion a hell of a lot more badass than the French Army? Comedy set on the back burner (but keep it there for the next sentence...), Google "french military victories" and go to the first link. SERIOUSLY! Do it NOW! Open a new tab real quick.
If you're really that lazy go here: http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/text/france.html
The Foreign Legion is comprised, yep that's right, of FOREIGNERS. NOT RIFLEDROPPERS. But this is all moot because the battle wouldn't even take place. A memo would be sent to France's leaders and the whole country would cower like mice. Okay, okay, France isn't that bad. They've got great....food? Hell, not even French Fries are really French. Once again, my point exactly.
Thought 8:
Do you know where Rap came from? Me being a skinny white boy and all, I know exactly where it came from! Rap originally came from inner-city, mainly black neighborhoods. Well duh P-T (P-Thuggin), I knew that! Well it originally evolved from the isolation of bass lines from other songs. Think of the basslines in the blues and other genres. Now these more poor cultures of Harlem and other places would stand around with their group of friends and start to talk/sing (along with the beat of course) about their many problems and how they wished life was better. Basslines are easy to sing to because their isn't any guitar riffs to time your entry into lyrics. Anyways, doesn't it just sound like the blues? Yeah, but early rap really was the blues. Picture a group of lower class African-Americans around a burning trashcan singing about their troubles to some deeper bass tones. And there you have it! Now if you've ever heard of Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five singing "The Message" you have (arguably of course) the FIRST ever rap song. Since music really does speak to one's soul (No I'm not emo), the fad spread like wildfire to these other neighborhoods and cities and soon the rest of the nation. Now it's evolved into something different, but early rap was NEVER about loads of money and female dogs. Well, perhaps the possiblity of it in the future, but it was usually about the here and the now (which is entirely relative).
(Wow Phil! That was DEEP!!! I know, sometimes I can do that.)
Thought 9:
Christmas and the Holidays. Ya know, we've lost sight of Christmas. But Phil, you're an ultra-Conservative (haha, capitalize that C baby!) Republican! That doesn't mean I don't have inner ooey-gooey feelings. You ever drive by places of business and notice that everyone says "Happy Holidays!" because they're afraid of offending people? COME ON! It's been called Christmas for forever and ever and I'm pretty sure the atheists aren't even truly offended. Watch commercials. You'll see they never say Merry Christmas anymore. If you're truly offended by Christmas you need to quit being a little b**** and MAN UP. If you're offended by that, don't you ever tell another racist, sexist, or religious joke ever again. Quit locking your doors in minority-majority (hehe that was neat) neighborhoods. Those boys over there isolatin' the bass beats just might be singing about Christmas...
So until I have another post....
Add lies to Wikipedia for fun, drink booze, eat reindeer to deter PETA, and remember that even Cheech Marin wants to say what I'm about to:
Merry Christmas.
To quote the greatest Christmas movie of all time,
Yippe Ki Yay Mother ****er,
Phil
PS
There isn't a Part 1 or 2. You didn't miss anything =)
Thought 1:
Cheech Marin in Cheech and Chong's Up in Smoke is quite buff. I had no idea trashy Mexicans could be that ripped yet sit around and smoke weed all day. But don't let Senor Cheech of Marijuana, Mexico fool you. Cheech Marin has the largest collection of Chicano art in the world. I actually learned that back in high school. Of course that was the only thing I remember from my dogshit art class. Also it's important to note that Tommy Chong's career is laughable. Therefore Cheech is better than Chong. One more thing, Cheech's name comes from chicharron, spicy fried pork skin.
Thought 2:
I learned a wonderful phrase long ago from my friend Mitch Ingram. The latin phrase cum grano sali means "with a grain of salt." If you and other friends are the only ones who know this phrase's meaning it's always fun to say it around jackasses who use Wikipedia for arguments (see Thought 3).
Thought 3:
Wikipedia is the best source of information in the world for retards and assholes. Hands down. Wikipedia is NEVER wrong (cum grano sali). Wikipedia is the reason that you always lose arguments against said people.
Semi-Intelligent Dude: "Dude, I'm not sure if global warming is really even a problem."
Asshole Douche Using Wikipedia: "Dude, haven't you seen The Day After Tomorrow? According to the scientific report released in 2003, which of course the movie was based on, the influxx of arctic wolves into New York City from their attraction to gum on the sidewalk will cause a massive amount of heat generated by their coats vibrating against the limestone-embedded pavement which in turn will cause a chain reaction leading to the clearing of all Mexico's debts. You don't even know man..."
"...that you're a douche?"
My point exactly.
Thought 4:
Dyeing your cat in Kool-Aid does not work very well. Trust me. I tried it just a few minutes ago (seriously) and it failed. The cat is now licking at such a fast speed that Captain Picard is totally impressed. I'm kinda hoping Aprilia won't die because it's cold outside and burying her would be a total hassle. But of course we do have a freezer...
adaadThought 5:
Where do weevils come from?
(Yes, that's all of Thought 5)
Thought 6:
My Pillar of Cancer, which is comprised of oodles of smokeless tobacco cans, is now 53'' tall. Also, one should always remember that the character ' means feet and " means inches. Spinal Tap got it wrong with their Stonehenge setup and I'm dead serious when I say I've never made the mistake after seeing that movie. SPINAL TAP CHANGED MY LIFE! Yes, yes it did. Anyways, I only need 9 more cans to make my floor to ceiling lamp. It's going to be a "shining" reminder of the constant threat of cancer. *snicker*
Thought 7:
So is it just me or is the French Foreign Legion a hell of a lot more badass than the French Army? Comedy set on the back burner (but keep it there for the next sentence...), Google "french military victories" and go to the first link. SERIOUSLY! Do it NOW! Open a new tab real quick.
If you're really that lazy go here: http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/text/france.html
The Foreign Legion is comprised, yep that's right, of FOREIGNERS. NOT RIFLEDROPPERS. But this is all moot because the battle wouldn't even take place. A memo would be sent to France's leaders and the whole country would cower like mice. Okay, okay, France isn't that bad. They've got great....food? Hell, not even French Fries are really French. Once again, my point exactly.
Thought 8:
Do you know where Rap came from? Me being a skinny white boy and all, I know exactly where it came from! Rap originally came from inner-city, mainly black neighborhoods. Well duh P-T (P-Thuggin), I knew that! Well it originally evolved from the isolation of bass lines from other songs. Think of the basslines in the blues and other genres. Now these more poor cultures of Harlem and other places would stand around with their group of friends and start to talk/sing (along with the beat of course) about their many problems and how they wished life was better. Basslines are easy to sing to because their isn't any guitar riffs to time your entry into lyrics. Anyways, doesn't it just sound like the blues? Yeah, but early rap really was the blues. Picture a group of lower class African-Americans around a burning trashcan singing about their troubles to some deeper bass tones. And there you have it! Now if you've ever heard of Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five singing "The Message" you have (arguably of course) the FIRST ever rap song. Since music really does speak to one's soul (No I'm not emo), the fad spread like wildfire to these other neighborhoods and cities and soon the rest of the nation. Now it's evolved into something different, but early rap was NEVER about loads of money and female dogs. Well, perhaps the possiblity of it in the future, but it was usually about the here and the now (which is entirely relative).
(Wow Phil! That was DEEP!!! I know, sometimes I can do that.)
Thought 9:
Christmas and the Holidays. Ya know, we've lost sight of Christmas. But Phil, you're an ultra-Conservative (haha, capitalize that C baby!) Republican! That doesn't mean I don't have inner ooey-gooey feelings. You ever drive by places of business and notice that everyone says "Happy Holidays!" because they're afraid of offending people? COME ON! It's been called Christmas for forever and ever and I'm pretty sure the atheists aren't even truly offended. Watch commercials. You'll see they never say Merry Christmas anymore. If you're truly offended by Christmas you need to quit being a little b**** and MAN UP. If you're offended by that, don't you ever tell another racist, sexist, or religious joke ever again. Quit locking your doors in minority-majority (hehe that was neat) neighborhoods. Those boys over there isolatin' the bass beats just might be singing about Christmas...
So until I have another post....
Add lies to Wikipedia for fun, drink booze, eat reindeer to deter PETA, and remember that even Cheech Marin wants to say what I'm about to:
Merry Christmas.
To quote the greatest Christmas movie of all time,
Yippe Ki Yay Mother ****er,
Phil
PS
There isn't a Part 1 or 2. You didn't miss anything =)
Friday, December 19, 2008
Cat Urine and Bird Crap
I hate cats that can't figure out that humans don't like it when they piss on their couch...comforter...bed...floor...clean laundry...bean bag chair...and the list goes on.
Ducati is killin' me here. I'm furious that every time I get in the door the house reeks of her stupid urine. Anyways, I can't make Benni clean it up because he isn't here =( Gonna kill his cat instead...
Anyways, it's a Friday evening and I'm not sure what I'm going to do. Bundick is outta town and there aren't any vehicles to really work on. Social bonfires have now become so commonplace that I'm not sure if I wanna have one tonight. I could always finish off my Tom Clancy, but I have the whole weekend for that and I like to read late at night anyways. Speaking of reading, I think all I want for Christmas are giftcards to Half-Price Books. I don't care about hardcover or limited editions; I just want the story. So maybe filling up my shelves with Bob Salvatore novels will do some good. Ooo! Maybe there's a good movie out tonight or something.
Anyways, I just read an article on birds pooping on cars. I have gleaned some information from it! Apparently birds do not target cars, but they are attracted to shiny objects. So unless you're just retarded, don't park your bright yellow sports car under a tree full of blackbirds.
Well now I'm tired and it's only 6:40pm and I'm sure something exciting is happening somewhere.
Avoiding urine and dodging crap,
Filthy Phil
Ducati is killin' me here. I'm furious that every time I get in the door the house reeks of her stupid urine. Anyways, I can't make Benni clean it up because he isn't here =( Gonna kill his cat instead...
Anyways, it's a Friday evening and I'm not sure what I'm going to do. Bundick is outta town and there aren't any vehicles to really work on. Social bonfires have now become so commonplace that I'm not sure if I wanna have one tonight. I could always finish off my Tom Clancy, but I have the whole weekend for that and I like to read late at night anyways. Speaking of reading, I think all I want for Christmas are giftcards to Half-Price Books. I don't care about hardcover or limited editions; I just want the story. So maybe filling up my shelves with Bob Salvatore novels will do some good. Ooo! Maybe there's a good movie out tonight or something.
Anyways, I just read an article on birds pooping on cars. I have gleaned some information from it! Apparently birds do not target cars, but they are attracted to shiny objects. So unless you're just retarded, don't park your bright yellow sports car under a tree full of blackbirds.
Well now I'm tired and it's only 6:40pm and I'm sure something exciting is happening somewhere.
Avoiding urine and dodging crap,
Filthy Phil
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Our Very Douchebag Neighbors
The other night Benni turned 22. I was pretty impressed by our spur of the moment party which included a few people that we rarely get to hang out with. So we're playing music and YouTube videos up on the large TV with the music coming through the surround sound. Well, needless to say it got a little loud. It wasn't ridiculous like I sometimes have it, but we live about 20 feet from the next trailer.
Let's give you some background on our neighbor and his current posterity: We'll call him Alpha =)
Alpha is in his 30's, works on oil rig equipment, and is into all things white trash. This includes music of the metal variety, drinking light beer on the front porch for hours, and domestic disputes.
Beta is Alpha's wife. Beta overly obsesses about her daughters life and the color of her hair, which is currently bleach blonde amalgamated with some fading pink. Beta is the least aggressive of the pack.
Mini-Alpha is currently following in his father's footsteps. Mini-Alpha wears shorts in the winter, a trait shared by many white trashers. He also skateboards in front of our house, terrorizes the neighborhood, and will one day rule Trashdom with an Aluminum Fist. Mini-Alpha was once insulted by a rule, for now his days are rage-filled and he breaks and defys ALL rules. School suspension and detention, dirtbiking fast on the street without a helmet, picking on those younger than him, wearing brown and black at the same time, and oh the best: kicking and punching the siding of our trailer while Benni is studying and I'm trying to cure cancer (I have to at least pretend that I'm productive).
Mini-Beta once worked at Harley-Davidson like I did. According to her mother, Beta, she was hired on only for her large breasts. She was also "forced" to wear smaller than normal shirts to acccentuate her Venus-like figure (Upper Paleolithic...think 13th warrior Venus figure with the exaggerated breasts, belly, and gluts). from what I've noticed, Mini-Beta is no longer allowed to live with her Chevy-ridin' boyfriend. Mr. Chevy-Ridin'-High can often be seen around the neighborhood, wearing jeans tucked into cowboy boots and proving that his wife-beater can indeed soak up mustard spills.
This pack of albino garbage will arrive home from school/work/hell each day and enter into their routines. The palm trees next to the porch will slowly be sprinkled with cigarette butts, the nice perversions and profanities will drift from the street where Mini-Alpha is playing, and my personal "favourite," Death Metal Gayness. Death Metal Gayness is a name I meticulously chose (in about 3 seconds) for Alpha's band he practices with in the afternoons and evenings. These guys are incredible...at sucking. Each song (all 3!) consists of double-bassing and overdriven distortion. Thank God that they believe singing is for wussies. If they were to sing I would die from electric shock which was inflicted upon myself to escape the cacophany.
Anyways, now that you have a little background, now you should know that at about 12:30am, Alpha storms over and walks up onto our porch. He demands that Mr Cracker, a good friend of mine open the door. Mr Cracker says, "Haha what? UH-no!"
Alpha does not like this. So Alpha yanks open our screen door, and with his claws opens the door and enters into our home to stand in our front entryway. Everybody just stares at this guy. Who the hell are you and why are you in the house? Alpha actually starts YELLING at us to turn the volume down!
Yes, it was right for us to turn it down, but how dare he actually barge into our house! Unannounced, unwanted, and just downright impolite. He could have knocked, asked Mr Cracker to speak with the owner/owners of the house, or just left a damn message with Mr Cracker. And the absurdity of it all is that his band makes far more noise, far more often.
Bennihana, in his infinite wisdom of inebriation, made a few signs to tape onto the windows facing Alpha's house: "Who's tired of the crappy rock band?"
I didn't go to sleep the night of the party, and I had to be at work early in the morning. I made it there and worked til 5:30pm. When I got home from work, completely exhausted and hungry, I just about passed out. Until the knocking began. "Someone" saw that both of us were home and started banging on our door. Well I'm not going to talk to this guy. Benni doesn't want to either. This was not polite knocking either. RAAAAAAAAAGGGGGEEEE! Angy-angy-man knocking 'twas. It keeps going on about every 15 minutes.
So now I'm gonna be speaking with the manager of the trailer park later today and see what she does, and then I'm going to bring the popos in on it if nothing happens.
OH! This is rather funny, I've been writing for a while now and Death Metal Gayness has started their Tour of the Muddafuggin' Living Room.
Bringin' my piece to disturb da peace,
P-Thugalicious
Let's give you some background on our neighbor and his current posterity: We'll call him Alpha =)
Alpha is in his 30's, works on oil rig equipment, and is into all things white trash. This includes music of the metal variety, drinking light beer on the front porch for hours, and domestic disputes.
Beta is Alpha's wife. Beta overly obsesses about her daughters life and the color of her hair, which is currently bleach blonde amalgamated with some fading pink. Beta is the least aggressive of the pack.
Mini-Alpha is currently following in his father's footsteps. Mini-Alpha wears shorts in the winter, a trait shared by many white trashers. He also skateboards in front of our house, terrorizes the neighborhood, and will one day rule Trashdom with an Aluminum Fist. Mini-Alpha was once insulted by a rule, for now his days are rage-filled and he breaks and defys ALL rules. School suspension and detention, dirtbiking fast on the street without a helmet, picking on those younger than him, wearing brown and black at the same time, and oh the best: kicking and punching the siding of our trailer while Benni is studying and I'm trying to cure cancer (I have to at least pretend that I'm productive).
Mini-Beta once worked at Harley-Davidson like I did. According to her mother, Beta, she was hired on only for her large breasts. She was also "forced" to wear smaller than normal shirts to acccentuate her Venus-like figure (Upper Paleolithic...think 13th warrior Venus figure with the exaggerated breasts, belly, and gluts). from what I've noticed, Mini-Beta is no longer allowed to live with her Chevy-ridin' boyfriend. Mr. Chevy-Ridin'-High can often be seen around the neighborhood, wearing jeans tucked into cowboy boots and proving that his wife-beater can indeed soak up mustard spills.
This pack of albino garbage will arrive home from school/work/hell each day and enter into their routines. The palm trees next to the porch will slowly be sprinkled with cigarette butts, the nice perversions and profanities will drift from the street where Mini-Alpha is playing, and my personal "favourite," Death Metal Gayness. Death Metal Gayness is a name I meticulously chose (in about 3 seconds) for Alpha's band he practices with in the afternoons and evenings. These guys are incredible...at sucking. Each song (all 3!) consists of double-bassing and overdriven distortion. Thank God that they believe singing is for wussies. If they were to sing I would die from electric shock which was inflicted upon myself to escape the cacophany.
Anyways, now that you have a little background, now you should know that at about 12:30am, Alpha storms over and walks up onto our porch. He demands that Mr Cracker, a good friend of mine open the door. Mr Cracker says, "Haha what? UH-no!"
Alpha does not like this. So Alpha yanks open our screen door, and with his claws opens the door and enters into our home to stand in our front entryway. Everybody just stares at this guy. Who the hell are you and why are you in the house? Alpha actually starts YELLING at us to turn the volume down!
Yes, it was right for us to turn it down, but how dare he actually barge into our house! Unannounced, unwanted, and just downright impolite. He could have knocked, asked Mr Cracker to speak with the owner/owners of the house, or just left a damn message with Mr Cracker. And the absurdity of it all is that his band makes far more noise, far more often.
Bennihana, in his infinite wisdom of inebriation, made a few signs to tape onto the windows facing Alpha's house: "Who's tired of the crappy rock band?"
I didn't go to sleep the night of the party, and I had to be at work early in the morning. I made it there and worked til 5:30pm. When I got home from work, completely exhausted and hungry, I just about passed out. Until the knocking began. "Someone" saw that both of us were home and started banging on our door. Well I'm not going to talk to this guy. Benni doesn't want to either. This was not polite knocking either. RAAAAAAAAAGGGGGEEEE! Angy-angy-man knocking 'twas. It keeps going on about every 15 minutes.
So now I'm gonna be speaking with the manager of the trailer park later today and see what she does, and then I'm going to bring the popos in on it if nothing happens.
OH! This is rather funny, I've been writing for a while now and Death Metal Gayness has started their Tour of the Muddafuggin' Living Room.
Bringin' my piece to disturb da peace,
P-Thugalicious
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Hrothgar! Hrothgar! Hrothgar!
Hey everybody, this is pretty late considering I got my tattoo on Friday, but I'm still ultra-stoked about it so here goes!
I got a tattoo from Andres over at Arsenal Tattoo for a whopping 0$. That's right, I got it free. Andres if you're reading this I'm coming in to tip you tomorrow. Andres works off of tips because he's an Apprentice. He can't charge for tattoos until he's no longer an apprentice, which is solely up to his boss, Cliff. It's the Dillon Family Coat of Arms, which is a red Lion rampant (a side profile of a lion with his right front paw raised) surrounded by three red crescent moons. All of this chills on a white shield and is pretty badass. That's right, I DID just say "chills." Anyways stating that the crest is badass kinda goes without saying because to be a Dillon is to be badass. Unless you're Matt Dillon...he's a terrible actor. So word to my homies (family) wherever you peoples are. Anyways, it's located on my right shoulder. It's pretty large and it itches (that's what she said). It's surrounded by a neat floral-style filigree with four gears emerging from it. If ya know me you know I have an affinity for motorcycles and cars, and a gear just....well looks tight.
My new job has been aight lately, although I won't say it's spectacular just yet. Brazos Cleaning and Restoration. I c lean carpets/rugs and clean houses that have been damaged by water and fire. Also, supposedly 3 or 4 times a year we get to clean up hazardous material sites and death scenes. Kinda cool! Yeah, might sound creepy but how often do you get to say you got to clean up blood and get paid for it? Whoo, bring on the accidents!
My new favorite flavor of dip: Grizzly Straight. Got a bit tired of the wintergreen, I started to feel like I was eating a Christmas tree. Oh and DOWN with "Happy Holidays!" It's back to "Merry Christmas" you gay neo-anti-monotheistic bastards. No offense to the gays is intended. But I do reserve the right to use "gay" as a derogatory term.
Alas, I'm sure some of you keep up with my sister's blog, but my personal doctor for 18 years passed away. Dr. Byron Kocen was the epitomy of Straight Thuggery. That guy new all there was to know about ADHD and was one of the only people I can recall that could truly understand what a young hyperactive kid dealt with in school.
I'm a little bored lately now that Sons of Anarchy is over for the season and that I've finally caught up with the 4 seasons of Lost. I read 300 pages yesterday and finished The Highwayman, a novel by R.A. Salvatore (I call him Bob.) Aaron Clay was a godsend when he came over to hangout yesterday. He brought me another 6 books or so. Super excited =). I watched Meet Joe Black with h im and now I want a personal library in my home. Not just a shelf or two of rare books. I mean bookcase upon bookcase of novels.
Aha, new favorite beverage. Hot mead. I seriously wanna have a Viking themed party. In fact, I just want to be a Viking right now. But without the rape and pillaging. Well...we'll see =) My new Viking name is Philip Wartooth. Benni is now Bennihana the Peevish, and Tiffany (the girl sitting next to us studying) is now Tiffany the Berserk. Yep.
I'll throw in new names for some of the peeps in my crew as well.
They are:
Me: Philip the Cold (It came up with that when I listed myself as "uncaring")
David: Dagfari the Red (Red hair..duh)
Tim: Gaylord the Peevish (haha, ok ok, Timothy the Complaining, which isn't much better HA!)
Chris: Kristopher the Unchaste (yoooouuu manwhore)
Kevin: Ketil Nohair (That's what the name-generator came up with, I swear)
Aaron: Aaron Blackaxe (for obvious reasons)
Benni: Bennihana the Meek (or "the Gay" but that's up to everyone else)
That's all I'm gonna post about for now, but here's the tat for your entertainment pleasure,
Raping and pillaging a town near you,
Philip the Cold (*badass guitar riff accompaniment*)
I got a tattoo from Andres over at Arsenal Tattoo for a whopping 0$. That's right, I got it free. Andres if you're reading this I'm coming in to tip you tomorrow. Andres works off of tips because he's an Apprentice. He can't charge for tattoos until he's no longer an apprentice, which is solely up to his boss, Cliff. It's the Dillon Family Coat of Arms, which is a red Lion rampant (a side profile of a lion with his right front paw raised) surrounded by three red crescent moons. All of this chills on a white shield and is pretty badass. That's right, I DID just say "chills." Anyways stating that the crest is badass kinda goes without saying because to be a Dillon is to be badass. Unless you're Matt Dillon...he's a terrible actor. So word to my homies (family) wherever you peoples are. Anyways, it's located on my right shoulder. It's pretty large and it itches (that's what she said). It's surrounded by a neat floral-style filigree with four gears emerging from it. If ya know me you know I have an affinity for motorcycles and cars, and a gear just....well looks tight.
My new job has been aight lately, although I won't say it's spectacular just yet. Brazos Cleaning and Restoration. I c lean carpets/rugs and clean houses that have been damaged by water and fire. Also, supposedly 3 or 4 times a year we get to clean up hazardous material sites and death scenes. Kinda cool! Yeah, might sound creepy but how often do you get to say you got to clean up blood and get paid for it? Whoo, bring on the accidents!
My new favorite flavor of dip: Grizzly Straight. Got a bit tired of the wintergreen, I started to feel like I was eating a Christmas tree. Oh and DOWN with "Happy Holidays!" It's back to "Merry Christmas" you gay neo-anti-monotheistic bastards. No offense to the gays is intended. But I do reserve the right to use "gay" as a derogatory term.
Alas, I'm sure some of you keep up with my sister's blog, but my personal doctor for 18 years passed away. Dr. Byron Kocen was the epitomy of Straight Thuggery. That guy new all there was to know about ADHD and was one of the only people I can recall that could truly understand what a young hyperactive kid dealt with in school.
I'm a little bored lately now that Sons of Anarchy is over for the season and that I've finally caught up with the 4 seasons of Lost. I read 300 pages yesterday and finished The Highwayman, a novel by R.A. Salvatore (I call him Bob.) Aaron Clay was a godsend when he came over to hangout yesterday. He brought me another 6 books or so. Super excited =). I watched Meet Joe Black with h im and now I want a personal library in my home. Not just a shelf or two of rare books. I mean bookcase upon bookcase of novels.
Aha, new favorite beverage. Hot mead. I seriously wanna have a Viking themed party. In fact, I just want to be a Viking right now. But without the rape and pillaging. Well...we'll see =) My new Viking name is Philip Wartooth. Benni is now Bennihana the Peevish, and Tiffany (the girl sitting next to us studying) is now Tiffany the Berserk. Yep.
I'll throw in new names for some of the peeps in my crew as well.
They are:
Me: Philip the Cold (It came up with that when I listed myself as "uncaring")
David: Dagfari the Red (Red hair..duh)
Tim: Gaylord the Peevish (haha, ok ok, Timothy the Complaining, which isn't much better HA!)
Chris: Kristopher the Unchaste (yoooouuu manwhore)
Kevin: Ketil Nohair (That's what the name-generator came up with, I swear)
Aaron: Aaron Blackaxe (for obvious reasons)
Benni: Bennihana the Meek (or "the Gay" but that's up to everyone else)
That's all I'm gonna post about for now, but here's the tat for your entertainment pleasure,
Raping and pillaging a town near you,
Philip the Cold (*badass guitar riff accompaniment*)
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Metal Don't Burn!
Ok, theres just been too much crap going on lately for me to actually post individual stories.
So in a nutshell: Drinking beer, Burning stuff, Burning my shoes, Shooting my shoes, Teaching little kids to make fires more bigger and burnier, going thrast, Thanksgiving, Ren fest, watching Ben throw up, being cold while riding, dipping, quitting dipping, dipping again, eating lots of food, drinking lots of milk, throwing knives, helping Kelly and Michael move, playing with Sybilla, actin' a foo', and all sorts of other assorted activities.
Yeah, i tried to get the highlights in but it's mostly just me burning stuff.
I wish I had more time at the moment to post but all of you are going to have to pretend that the gap between November 24th and December 3rd just didn't happen.
So until I find that you readers are worthy of more posting I'm just gonna have to make you sit back and be patient. If I have to wait forever until Sons of Anarchy comes back on, you have to wait for me to post. (By the way, Benni says "What SAY you?") You don't have to wait long, but I have a billion stories to post and they're all just a random blur at the moment.
In the meantime, the Goomba will keep you company.
Looooooooovvvvveee yoooouuuu,
P to da D
So in a nutshell: Drinking beer, Burning stuff, Burning my shoes, Shooting my shoes, Teaching little kids to make fires more bigger and burnier, going thrast, Thanksgiving, Ren fest, watching Ben throw up, being cold while riding, dipping, quitting dipping, dipping again, eating lots of food, drinking lots of milk, throwing knives, helping Kelly and Michael move, playing with Sybilla, actin' a foo', and all sorts of other assorted activities.
Yeah, i tried to get the highlights in but it's mostly just me burning stuff.
I wish I had more time at the moment to post but all of you are going to have to pretend that the gap between November 24th and December 3rd just didn't happen.
So until I find that you readers are worthy of more posting I'm just gonna have to make you sit back and be patient. If I have to wait forever until Sons of Anarchy comes back on, you have to wait for me to post. (By the way, Benni says "What SAY you?") You don't have to wait long, but I have a billion stories to post and they're all just a random blur at the moment.
In the meantime, the Goomba will keep you company.
Looooooooovvvvveee yoooouuuu,
P to da D
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