Interesting statistic, when I'm typing a new blog post, I'm listening to rap about 98.2% of the time, 33.33% of which are T.I-dedicated. I don't know what is it about T.I. that makes him so creativity-tickling, but why do I care anway?
After watching, and learning, from the high speed, machine-gun-firing car chase last night, I can proudly say I am now street enough to go sell crack on the streets of the Bronx. Plus, i'll be doing those dealers a favour by introducing Winning Eleven as a new pastime instead of breakdancing and stuff.
That hospital they've been renovating ever since I moved in certainly does not look any different now than it did 6 years ago. No, wait, they did some digging in front of the main building and now they're doing something to the sewer right in front of the main gate. Viva la revolution.
You forget your leg is agonisingly sore when you know you have 5 metres to sprint so you can get to watch that lesbian lovemaking scene. Or when there's a party involved, or when there's a party followed by having to sprint 5 metres to ge to watch a lesbian scene.
You know there's a problem when your iTunes is so laggy it's producing a much nicer chop than you've ever been able to produce with actual turntables.
Now I'm wondering whether I should end this post short or not.
Now I've decided to keep on writing for a little longer.
Now I've just read the last two lines and I think they're funny.
The previous line proves that I'm losing my IQ faster than I'm losing my cats to graves.
Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's ass. Ass being donkey, but come to think about it, coveting thy neighbour's other ass is also wrong, unless you're living next to a Victoria's Secret Supermodel, or Tina Fey, then I call dibs.
I just read the word Blogger as Booger and I think this looks just perfect next to the words Mental and Constipation in the title bar.
Ok. I'm bored, so that's enough for today.
"I hate having to write something down here,
But I hate having the fear,
Of having the words, but no one to hear"
After watching, and learning, from the high speed, machine-gun-firing car chase last night, I can proudly say I am now street enough to go sell crack on the streets of the Bronx. Plus, i'll be doing those dealers a favour by introducing Winning Eleven as a new pastime instead of breakdancing and stuff.
That hospital they've been renovating ever since I moved in certainly does not look any different now than it did 6 years ago. No, wait, they did some digging in front of the main building and now they're doing something to the sewer right in front of the main gate. Viva la revolution.
You forget your leg is agonisingly sore when you know you have 5 metres to sprint so you can get to watch that lesbian lovemaking scene. Or when there's a party involved, or when there's a party followed by having to sprint 5 metres to ge to watch a lesbian scene.
You know there's a problem when your iTunes is so laggy it's producing a much nicer chop than you've ever been able to produce with actual turntables.
Now I'm wondering whether I should end this post short or not.
Now I've decided to keep on writing for a little longer.
Now I've just read the last two lines and I think they're funny.
The previous line proves that I'm losing my IQ faster than I'm losing my cats to graves.
Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's ass. Ass being donkey, but come to think about it, coveting thy neighbour's other ass is also wrong, unless you're living next to a Victoria's Secret Supermodel, or Tina Fey, then I call dibs.
I just read the word Blogger as Booger and I think this looks just perfect next to the words Mental and Constipation in the title bar.
Ok. I'm bored, so that's enough for today.
"I hate having to write something down here,
But I hate having the fear,
Of having the words, but no one to hear"
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