     |
| i just spent the last half-hour trying to arrest a mirage. only in tokyo my friend. this is the last post. new somethign soon. |
 |
  |
| i's just a wanksta! |
|
 |
| "AND SO IT SEEMS, IT'S YOU AND ME IN PERFECT UNITY." -- danny pawlovich |
|
 |
| trans am plays today, ... |
|
 |
| today hasn't even happened yet, and yet i predict. today is a good day to die. (hah jk) what i'm saying is, that's the name of my new book, it's starring me as James Bond in the making of Octopussy. |
|
|
|
| ok, so who hasn't covered Cortez the Killer, raise your hand. Now, all of you that raised your hand, take out your Safety scissors and rub them against your wrists until you leave red marks and remember, it could've been much much worse. |
|
|
|
| some music just sounds so good today. i don't even like porn but it is friday the 13th, who doesn't see the correlation? i'm about to become a little more high-tech. i'll give you 7500 reasons and a laser engraving, "Johnny Benson, so Fuck You!" live.mp3 |
|
|
|
| and i've forgot to ask myself, "have i doomed all i should possibly doom?" |
|
|
|
| and i've got to ask myself, "have i done all i could possibly do?" |
|
|
|
the results are in. the survey was a huge success and the top 3 reasons for my stench are polled in the following ascending order.
3. I died in 1991
2. lactose intolerant fuck.
1. irrelevant, survey smelled too.
if you missed the über survey, you can
czech it out here X_hyperlink_X
|
|
|
|
riddle me this; i think i can't sleep at night; because i have this vast collection of memories
fact: i can't sleep at night
cause: unknown (originally spelled uncow)
so it's uncow to me but the same reason i don't sleep when i'm supposed to is the same reason when i drive my car
i listen to songs on my radio a little bit closer
or i visualize getting into an accident a little bit too completely
*blink* here i am still in the driver seat, definately not in the accident i just generated a 1/3 of a kilometer behind me; hrm
i can't control my daydreaming and i do it all the time
i can't rent storage space
and i don't want to forget
i pour a glass of juice.
fuck.
you know we're the first generation where we can have perfect memories
because of digital storage
we can have perfect copies, reproductions of original moments
ofcourse through the abstraction of a lense
but photographs fade, photographs burn in house fires (heh)
and ofcourse digital transcends
blah bbbb laah |
|
 |
| who has work in 5 hours. no thanks.com |
|
|
|
| fuckin spring rolls. pass the torch. |
|
|
|
| where's my hot girlfriend? feels good to be someplace, it happens to be home but whatever. as long as it's not apt 3F. |
|
|
|
| somebody can't sleep. |
|
|
|
| countdown 10 hours until i apply for my very own cubicle. soon my minions, i'll be making tables and javascript arrays for the man. shall we topple his tower of babel from within or should i befriend him and impregnate his daughters. tables for glasses, internet for asses. har har har har har har har har har |
|
|
|
it's definately not time to make the donuts. nor should you eat those that you've stockpiled. i am anticipating the development of the smart dust written about in the current issue of wired. technology scares me. rapid decisive women interest me. (yes that's you nessa). sinus headaches and sticky fingers come from the weather of the five-one-one. new york is the center of the universe, japan is the beta tester for western culture, europe is stuck in the middle. third world countries and korea are stuck in the 1970s with disco, volkswagen, and dickbrooms. and this is the part of the show where i quote myself, "sometimes you just gotta hold it in."
the end. |
|
|
|
1. mark is going to sign with RCA and i'm going to play bass for his tour band.
2. the emphasis is going to sign with Grand Royal or more preferably, Dre's label.
3. i am going to get my doctorate over the internet.
4. information information information.
5. "sometimes the way foreward is sometimes the way back. please leave a contribution in the little box."
6. canadians. canadians. canadians. canadians. canadians. canadians. canadians. canadians. canadians. canadians. canadians. canadians. canadians. canadians. canadians. canadians. canadians. |
|
|
|
| spam me bitches. what do you do with a couple of gnats, horrible and small like a couple of gnats. spreading disease and the apocalypse to, have i got quite a riddle for you. the mother and the father. blaaaah. |
|
|
|
|
who needs jewelry when you can wear bruises and bite marks. who needs a chair when you can just lie down, goodnight. |
|
|
|
TheDeclined (1:27:49 AM): my name is john benson, and don't forget, im the motha who runs the internet. look me up, and learn my adress, every chat room knows im the best. my hard drive's got 80 megs, i push it hard like i do in bed, so ladies if you love me, show me this way, you can all bid on my ass on e bay
TheDeclined (1:28:28 AM): word
johnny offline (1:31:55 AM): heh
|
|
|
|
gaspinq (1:02:31 AM): dont u love meeting grrls jsut fuckin like u that u could fall in love with over the internet only to find they live in new mexico
johnny offline (1:02:44 AM): heh
johnny offline (1:02:49 AM): the internet is a fucked up thing
gaspinq (1:03:03 AM): yeah it is and we're its lil beta tester
johnny offline (1:03:20 AM): we're it's original polluter
gaspinq (1:03:29 AM): ahh that was hot
gaspinq (1:03:30 AM): nice
johnny offline (1:03:30 AM): *drives my internet SUV around like a big penis*
|
|
|
|
|
sun. cool breeze. it's disgusting outside. |
|
|
|
|
no riders. |
|
|
|
|
smoking of any kind is absolutely disgusting. some people need to grow up. some people need to die. some people need to not have such bad gas, i think we all know who that is. some people need to stop chincing out on tipping the servers. i personally have a list of things i need to tend to as well. those of you reading this, need to get on my junk. there's only one honest art form, hip hop hip hop. and for those of you who think you don't need to wash the frying pan after making grilled cheese. eat a fucking dick. oh, nevermind, you already do on a daily basis. that sucks. fyi, that is why i keep my tooth brush in my bedroom. pos. |
|
|
|
|
coming from the mainframe. yo- i can't breath with bodies in here. |
|
|
|
|
who can't sleep at night. who can't eat or type, who has the stomach ache that eats the lining. if there were money. |
|
|
|
|
daylight savings is really kicking my ass, oh my god. who'd a thought. not this day any other day, but thursday. *mute* |
|
|
|
|
daylight savings is really kicking my ass, oh my god. who'd a thought. not this day any other day, but wednesday. *mute* |
|
|
|
|
look at me being pro-active. iraqi oil for iraqis |
|
|
|
|
just type a whole bunch of cryptic shit like "the people downstairs are yelling, and i'm holding in my excrement" and shit will work out - you'll get the internet hits. |
|
|
|
|
as a rule, the internet makes you attractive, college makes you ugly, the ugly worn out underwear and the bags under your eyes make you everlasting, the words you write i do not read, the game that you thought was over is only changing. |
|
|
|
|
i mean seriously, people irritate me. "hey msg me". "hey wahtsup" "hey make me a part of your life" ,.. how about "hey fucking disappear" *poof* goodnight hello TV. |
|
|
|
|
the past is for those of us who are too sloppy for the present, too present for your future. |
|
|
|
|
text text texttext text texttext text texttext text texttext text texttext text texttext text texttext text text |
|
|
|
|
text text texttext text texttext text texttext text texttext text texttext text texttext text texttext text text |
|
