Monday, July 13, 2009

Chicka Chicka BOW. (Brew)


(an excerpt from a note given to me by little miss alabaster circa 2006)

DEAR PANTS since I am going to hell i will need these items:

1. a pack of cigarettes no lighter needed since i will be burning internally forever

2. hitler stamps so i can "fit in"

3. a guitar so i can have a guitar feud for scraps of meat

4. a gerbil so i can trade them for ice packs (side note: lemmiwinks = ice pack)

5. hard liquor which is ironic because i'll already be feeling warm and fuzzy

6. dog biscuits because who doesn't need those

7. cornbread. there ain't nothing wrong with that


and i will also need a drunk secretary and a hole punch.


tomorrow, we will have various adventures in public-smoking-free northern counties. we are enthused and much on the verge of pissing ourselves with anticipation at the prospect.

heed these words: do not ever. never. nerver. neverino. wear flip flops to a mosh-friendly music festival. you should best leave the mini skirts at home, as well. that goes for you, too, ladies.

love/respect
B

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