| (no subject) |
[Jun. 2nd, 2004|10:38 pm] |
hello. no anger... well maybe a little, but that will be dealt with accordingly. i am happy these days. instead of going to the ol' harvard on the hudson, this fall i will be enrolling in the prestigious s.t.d. depository known as marist college. it is cool because marist had my favorite basketball player on their squad. he is the dunking dutchman rik smits, and let me tell you, no one could post up under the boards like rik smits. when i was in the third grade, i attended the marist basketball camp, and he was the instructor of the free throw seminar. i stepped up to the foul line, and attempted several shots that did not go in the hoop. he tried showing me over and over again how to properly make the shot. it was no use. finally, in his dutch accent, he leaned over to me from his stilt height and said ever so softly, "brett, you suck." thank you dunking dutchman, you're still my hero. however, when the indiana pacers played the chicago bulls back in 97, i was not cheering for him, but rather the greatest basketball player of all time, michael jordan. thats right fuckers, there will never be another mj.
franny says, "stop poisoning your livejournal with basketball talk".
oh yeah, this just in! if you are a friend, dont listen to other friends' problems. its not the right thing to do. even worse than that, dont tell friends your problems. dear jesus! the nerve! and smoking leaves! oh man! what drug involves leaves? pot? no. pot involves resin off of the buds of the plants rather than the resin. wow! people are so smart, i cant believe it. maybe friends should just drive other people around and not talk about their lives. brilliance!
so, with that said, i am going to hold a metal rod in the air during a lightening, because its the right thing to do. die highland, die! pk, throw it up!
sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 19th, 2004|09:22 pm] |
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listen you little fuckin faggot, i will shit on you one time. come see me. or better yet, i'll come see you. expect me REAL soon. i'm coming. fear me. talk shit like that, and i'll cut you from your belly to your jibs. remember that. i'll fuckin beat you into a coma, and that goes for anyone else who wants it. i hope your ready to see the things i'm involved with. i know where you work, and i know where you live. once again, expect me real soon. |
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| playing the trombone with my penis. |
[May. 18th, 2004|07:51 pm] |
yeah. people are real scum. i am better than highland grossies, and pseudo-highland grossies that have appeared on the scene as distinct as an arm growing out of a man's ass. i will kill you all.
so, i just ate oriental rice crackers and i'm about to go to the honorary bracken-b-que. speaking of which, dave has just shown up. thursday i am buying my madonna cd with my paycheck, because madonna is the goddamn shit and my ex-knish stole the cd. fuckin biotch. now i can get into the groove. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 11th, 2004|07:58 pm] |
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i am at eveeeee's w/ franny. oh! oh! ya like that! YA LIKE THAT!!!!!!!!! FURNACE!!! I LOVE FRANNY! BOOMERANG!!!!!!!!!!!!! SENORITA! |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 5th, 2004|02:12 pm] |
ahem. anyhow, i just ate a chicken sandwich and it was good. finals. oh boy. i'm working at thrifty tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after that...wait a minute! no work on friday!
im getting weird vibes lately (ew, i said vibes. shoot me.)
i see some people at dutchess who look like they have something to say, but they dont say anything. heh heh. that's right bitches. i am the devil in boy form.
i get my paycheck tomorrow. having money is great, especially when you dont smoke pot.
every time i go to the everready diner, someone is dropping a presidential shit in the bathroom. like, EVERY TIME! wow, shouldn't you take care of that before, or after you go to consume food. fuckin scumbags.
rod stewart is scary. no one wants his body and no one thinks he sexy. so there. |
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| you fucking cunt. |
[May. 3rd, 2004|02:05 pm] |
i hate drama. i hate people who like it in their lives. they crave it like heroin.
fuck you. it makes me sick that you say that you were betrayed. betrayed by who? me? franny? franny listened to your problems, gave advice, and was a friend beyond your comprehension or recognition. you are going around on a campaign to get as many people against her as possible by offering fabrications and lies to sway opinions. you throw out topics in conversation to elicit responses out of people about other people. for example: at the diner, when franny got up to use the bathroom, you said to me, "you know, its hard to talk to franny anymore because every time i tell her my problems, she's like, 'i don't want to hear about it, i'm happy'". you did this with the intention of hearing me say something like, "aw man that's fucked up", so that you could go and tell franny later on, "he thinks youre fucked up and wrong". i asked her about this later, and she said that she has never said anything of the sort. of course i would tell her you said this. she's my girlfriend, i love her, and i care about her enough to tell her when people are talking shit (wow, weird concept right?). you lied to me perfectly straight faced to get a response from which you could turn back to for future reference. you know, like saying to franny how derek is so dumb. YOU SAID IT! you put words in peoples' mouthes.
another thing.
its kind of funny how you describe people as being obsessed with you. you know, obsessed enough to hang out at your job a half-an-hour before you get out just to see you. funny. i heard from someone that you hung out at the job of a certain person who used to date a certain person...wow. kind of funny how the works. huh?
oh yeah, another thing. it seems that for somebody who says alot of shit about people, you have a problem with confrontation. its always heard through secondary sources. and when you're placed in a situation involving confrontation, you're scared shitless. how come? if youre so fucking "highly irritated" with someone, say something to their face. dont play telephone with shit talking. there are negative consequences involved.
and one more thing...i hope you dont expect to have me as a security blanket. i dont play that shit. you talk about how great one guy treats you, and how you feel like they would be great for you...and what do you do? you find another guy, and another, and another, and another, and another...and you make out with him, and he's a good kisser, and he says he has feelings for you, and he wants to hang out with you, and he wants to fuck you, and he is obsessed with you...no my dear. no one is obsessed with you. you are obsessed with yourself.
please believe that when i see you, youre getting an earful, along with anyone else who is dumb enough to actually buy into the bullshit that comes out of your mouth. so rally up everyone you can get. i'll fucking destroy you all. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 30th, 2004|09:59 am] |
drum machine.
i love franny (more than the fucking drum machine. fo real).
i dont feel so hot today. i think im gonna call in to work, and lay my head down. sicksicksick.
my baby does the frannyfranny. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 28th, 2004|03:46 pm] |
no work today. wow. did a meteor hit montana or something? harmarsuperstar baby. oh yeah.
(laser talk).
frannyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
livejournal is so metrosexual. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 23rd, 2004|12:08 am] |
franny and i got pizza, went to the mall, and bought cds at rhino.
i love franny. she makes me want to donate my arm to someone who doesn't have one.
i am working on psychology homework.
yay! joy division! yay!
i'm kind of drifting to the right.
if you can't already notice.
oh! back on the left side.
i miss ryan. he's the goddamn man.
here's my impression of the emotional livejournal user who
likes to be overdramatic about their entries:
today was a breeze upon the bosom of time that erected the nipples of mother earth, as hector and i strolled in a field of amber waves of grain. the sun shined down on me and i cried at its luminance. sometimes i get the feeling that i am slipping away into an abyss of my own demise, and at that thought, i fondle the bosom of time until the nipple ripens with hardness (i think i will shoot myself, does anyone care?) oh whoa is my state. my friends took themselves off of my friends list. that means i am so alone in this world. i find the urge to curl up in a ball, sleep for days, and retire to my livejournal to see who comments about me. as i sipped my vanilla chai tea with maurice and petra metrosexual, i thought of days gone by. the days that come and go like a silent but deadly...demonstration of flatulence. fart on life, fart on. continue on without me.
Bartholemeau Joseph the Laffin. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 19th, 2004|03:14 pm] |
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thats right, i said the napoli thing twice, because its the troooof |
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