Archive for March, 2008

MacKenzie can be a real dick sometimes

So yeah, I went to whole foods with MacKenzie today to get some Smirnoff ice for st. paddy’s.  We were going down the frozen aisle to get some organic munchies and MacKenzie stopped me.  He told me he had a really kick-ass zen buddhism trick he wanted to show me.  We went to the entree fridge and he grabbed a farm-raised, organic tofurky.  He handed it to me and told me to raise it above my head and concentrate.  So I was holding the tofurky high above my head concentrating on metaphysics ‘n shit, and I felt a really really sharp pain in my groin and I flew backward a few feet.  I thought I had attanied enlightenment, but I thought enlightnment  wouldn’t make my junk hurt like that.  Then I saw MacKenzie laughing at me, and I realized he had kicked me in the crotch like Brett Farve punting a football.  That guy can be such a dick sometimes.

If that wern’t bad enough, I took a tub of organic ice cream from the freezer and put it against my sack to keep the swelling down, and the manager came out and called me pervert.  I told him I wasn’t trying to put my dick into Ben and Jerry’s I was just trying to sooth my balls.  He grabbed me and threw me out of the store and I landed on my junk.  That manager was totally a facist.  The joke’s on him though, because I stole a Bert’s Bees lip balm when we were entering the store.  Take that facist, I’m fighting back against your hate crime!

Peace!

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Old Navy is for posers

So, yeah, I totally hate Old Navy because it’s a store for posers. Everyone is so immature and they totally play establishment music. It’s all trip hop and stuff like that. That, and there are so many kids there. That’s why I shop at the Gap. They’re the store for members of the sophisticated intelligentsia like me. They cater to my educated interests, with their light pastel colors and computer-generated smooth jazz. Yesterday, I bought myself a new pair of unisex overalls. They make me look so ironic, because I’m not a farmer! Dude, I’m so ironic, I’m Kafkaesque! That, and I think that unisex clothing represents the universality of humankind. I think we get too hung up on labels like “ladies petite” or “maternity.” Dude, they’re just labels and by wearing unisex clothing, I’m doing my part to fight the gender-stereotype establishment. I can feel as masculine or as pretty as I want by wearing nothing but androgynous overalls.

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Check out my new tat

So, yeah, I gave myself a tattoo today with crayola black marker ink and a sewing needle.  I thought it would totally be cool to have the words “carpe carnitas” permanently stained down the length of my index finger.  It’s totally rad, because it’s all red and swollen, and all of my friends think I should rub more alcohol into it.  This zen-appliance-healer named MacKenzie told me that I should rub alum and bizquick powder into it five times a day while facing Bentonville, Arkansas.  He’s totally cool, because he fixes toasters by asking the owner questions that have no answers.

I can’t wait to get my next tattoo.  I might get my sister’s name etched on my neck, or a unicorn above my ass crack.   My sister loved unicorns, and her name.  I lost her recently, when she wandered out of the hot topic and we don’t know where she went.  She had the car, so I think she might have just forgotten I was there.  She wouldn’t abandon me at the mall, would she?  I think it’s because she’s deaf, so she has problems reading things and she always tells people I’m not related to her.  I think her deafness causes memory problems.  I used to hear her make some weird moaning sounds when I lived in the room next to hers at my mom’s house.  I had to move out, because mom is totally a fascist.  She kicked me out just because I sold her porcelin dog statute for pot.  What a fascist.  Well, I need to find some fresh newspapers to sleep on, so later.

Peace!

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Today I Met a Prophet

So today I was digging in the garbage looking for food when I met Boyd. I’m pretty sure he’s a prophet. He told me all the things I knew to be true. I was destined for greatness. Boyd said that the pink boys are coming and I’d better prepare for battle cause the shits coming.

Boyd had some pills so we went to Subway and took them with a Cherry Coke. It was an awakening experience. I think I saw the face of God in the side of my BMT. He called out to me and said I had to go. But where should I go? About that time the manager started harshing our mellow and threw us out and said he didn’t want to see us around anymore. He hit me with a broom.

The cops showed up and we ran, but Boyd didn’t make it. He tripped and fell, I saw “The Man” grab him and throw him into the squad car. He sacrificed himself so I could be free. I’ll always have a special place in my heart. I think I know what it must have been like for the followers of Jesus watching him getting crucified.

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