Jul 22, 2009

The Str

1) Dust cradled, gore-wound gaping, corn roasting. Hand me those tongs, would you? Lord knows I need them. Shifted morals, man. That's the biggest problem.

2) 40 side of Vernon today, playing some ball. One dude had a nice jumper, called him Manu. He could drive for real. Both hands, crab dribbles, nice moves. Kept me on the team despite my lackluster performance 'cause he knew I was boxing out hard. Play hard, work inside, rebounds. That's my game.

3) Pour on the gasoline and then I take a nap before the regional burn. One man, one burn, tons of drugs. Don't need people to party, just some good times, you know? Oh yeah, some sweet tuneage. It's gonna happen, tonight. Tonight I see God.

4) He has these huge hands. They could strangle the biggest dogs on the planet. Not that dog-strangling is an acceptable way to quantify hand measurements. It's not. I'm just saying he could. But what if dog-strangling was the way to talk about hand size? So what? We could call my hands dobermans, his could be saint bernards. Golden Retrievers. Basinjis. You get the idea. I'm just saying, is all.

5) The str

*Note: the image above stolen from THIS BLOG SUCKS, and he stole it from my coffee table. Original drawing by PAUL.

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