Thursday, May 28, 2009

Getting Juicy


Oftentimes I'll sit in my parking lot.
I idle my car with the shift set to reverse.
I plug my iPod into my stereo and listen to french house. LOUD.
I stare in the rear view mirror.



When people walk on my little piece of sidewalk I run them over.
I kill them.


I've got a pretty good pile going these days. Strangely the police haven't said anything yet.
Sorry.... Did I say my driveway? I meant I hijack stranger's cars and run people over....


Yeah I know... "Kid Vincent, you're fucked!!!"
Grow a pair.


How do you feel about men drinking coolers? Does it really make them cool, as the name implies? Vex? Woody's? Rockstar Vodka? What if a lumberjack was drinking a cooler at a house party? Would you go up to him and say, "Hello fine gentleman, that's quite the feminine beverage you're consuming there."

He would most likely respond saying there is no such thing as a feminine beverage as no inanimate object contains any gender identifying properties, and that the concept of a feminine beverage is simply a construct of phallic male-dominant society.

It's inevitable that he would then proceed to compartmentalize you into smaller more conveniently bite sized pieces with his bare hands.

YOU DON'T WANT THAT.

On a scale of one to ten how into lukewarm beverages are you? (all femininity of the said beverage aside)
Regular temperature water is the shit. Allegedy ice cold water is bad for your singing voice.
So all you Ben Gibbards out there had better throw out all your ice cubes or risk tarnishing your indie vocalist career for the rest time.

Try and picture forever. I dare you not to throw up.

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