Fuck the French

The Death of The Salesmen

Radio is a sad sensation

Can't help but wonder of the existence of aliens good and bad and normal.

Wiseau,
Plato,
Colgate Radio Spot Personality,
I could go on forever baby.

And I will
as will you

Make sure if you reach forever you buy low

Gift Givers sleep in Drawers

Lehcaresor Papier Poudre

and in the morning hours she dusted her face before brunch.
he put on his fanciest knickers 
rolled up designer sleeves and check his beard for authenticity again
she put away her Papier Poudre 
and fastened shiny buckles 
it was time to spend their hard earned money
wisely
wisely
wisely 
Did they forget anything?

Observations from an F-Train: Entry 0.01

DESCRIPTION OF A BENCH SEAT ON AN F-TRAIN AT A GIVEN POINT IN TIME.
NYC - SEPT - 2012

From left to right:
1. Black Man Chillin' (big guy, bald shiny head, fancy hat)
2. Hispanic Woman Crocheting (knitting super fast with worn hands)
3. Asian Woman Studying Math (mulling over a Uniqlo receipt, checking for mathematical flaws)
4. White Dude Contriving Cool (reading Carnivores Dilema while listening to headphones)


Stereotypes...
are my bag baby...
observational grab bag.

Frogman's Layer

Frogman raced Blogger down the spiral get down

Town to...night beat root boiled bland sustenance

Kept us alive

And well traced, faced raced, a cyst Ed's

timetables for Wheaties dunks and scored in the form of

Dough nuts came thoughtless and provoked one day

…mind revoked

Driver’s I.D. card stock of less thickness please

And thank you while the throng embarrassed judgment

Day – in - and - day – out – and - over  -

ruled the room where tears formed streams!

and catamarans sailed, offering great vascular knowledge!

of roar splash and go, but toss your plastic beneath detritus’ pomp!

and the Circumstance’s often

awful

offer

obliterated All on July Farce,

2001 was still young

when computer-aided-Froggers shot awesome fog at Bloggers killing them on spot

On regression of our placed Gideon’s Bible in travel destinations

Elysium dies in a big way.

Out of the whey-soaked flesh knickers we crossed burgeoning open grassland in

And out of the burger rolls we then jelly-rolled tastelessly over salted lips

We Foal.

Bird Fool

Fowled Me.

And swallowed the key.

Gastro-Surgical Horrors that followed 

me down to Frogman's layer

breathing the cold dust

tossing the salads for the breaking of the bread

proverbially smoking on the hill

View in re-perceived-re-animated-reruns

Running all night long 

until the dream be told 

in the daylight hours of our moments bliss interruption erruption

SAME OFFENSE SEMINAR: N****A Back Like That (Y* **N Back Like That)

The world is a monster

MTV is poison

Poisonous Monsters be comin' at me non-stop!

...but you don't get a skinny white boy back like that.

Ghostface Killah, is no doubt a "Monsta' Don"...Ironman, Supreme Clientele, and yes even as late as 2006's Fishscale he's been producing fantastic, top notch Hip-Hop.

Lucky again in the cosmic swirl, I was once a kid that hated rap...and then a post-adolescent hater who, in contrived hesitant inauthenticity, slandered "commonplace" LIKES and laudable pop art...and avoidance of tightly produced, hook-heavy hip-hop such as Ghostface Killah.

Lucky I am, because I was able to first listen to him in a world free from MTV.  I haven't watched MTV for a long time now.  I don't have cable anymore so I'm growing thankfully more distant from all of TV that isn't hand picked by a free thinking consciousness enabled greatly the decadent technology swallowing poisoning sea cucumber that is the Internet.  The time is the right time...and I'm able to listen to back like that the way it should be listened to: with headphones on while riding the New York subway to work.

Free of images.  Free on censorship.  Free from Capitalism.  Free.

Free I enjoy authentic art.

And now for your plausible foray into my world of Cows we got Cows! dyslexic verbing the nouns in retrospective waxing stations for the weak hearted, blood heavy bumper souls that occupy my expanding dark matter quite-sub-conscious consciousness.

Step 1 (tip number 1...LAST RESORT!)...
No, but for actual now:  STEP 1, if you have loved Ghostface, for any reason at any point other than the one I just described, X-out and go away for you are a cherished bumper soul.

Step 2 (Buzz A-2-D...don't be a moron)...
No, but for actual now: STEP 2: Watch this and listen w/ Headphones:

Step 3 (Lap 2! Ditty Kong Racing!)...

No, STEP 3: If you enjoyed that...listen again...you know you want to because it feels so good...and makes you feel larger than life...more than Radiohead's "Give Up the Ghost" can at this point in your soar...

Step 4 (TRL raped my soul!)...

Yes...NOW WATCH THIS AND FEEL THE PAIN THAT COULD'VE BEEN THAT I JUST HAD (maybe.....???????)  Censorship and $$$ fuck more often than Fame and $$$...I knew who Ghostface was, but I didn't come into contact with Censorship fucking him.  It's the raping of the true world...the raping of ALL...THE RAPE...and now for the RAPE: 

(Not Even) Bad Lip Reading

"Cenamos"
by Enrique Iglesias

To-night we dine...
I leave my hunger in your hands
We-take a bite
Nothing is tasteless anymore
Don't let the food go to waste
Don't let a lobster go by
Nothing can stop us to dine!
Cenamos!!!!!
let the flavor take you over Cenamos!!! 
Te quiero, comida mio - Cenamos!! 
Wanna eat this food forever - Cenamos!!! 
Te quiero, comida mio - Te quiero

There's a little taste of the lyrics.

Single droppin' Oct 6th, 2012...WORLD INTERNET DEBUT!

And keep any eye out for the new video directed by Caldecott Chubb featuring a Live performance of Enrique Iglesias's "Bailamos" spliced with illicit footage of Brooklyn 20-something's dinning out in NYC (Yo!).