Imelda Marcos' Sock Collection

http://www.complex.com/blogs/2010/01/20/5-oclock-shuffle-gorillaz-santigold-future-trends-gucci-mane-more/

There is no easy way to be a cripple

I am driving up rainier with Luke. We are looking for a Pho place. There are so many but they are all closed or closing, must be a holiday or the end of the day. We find one where MLK and Rainier meet. Where the fish and chips under the monorail are now. We park and the asian lady comes out and tells us that we must repark. We do so. Syd comes down and parks next to us. We get out and instead of going into the Pho joint, which does look very good; warm and bright and clean. We walk up towards Beacon Hill. There is a huge drainage ditch made from big blue plastic barrels cut in half, it goes along the foot of Beacon Hill. As we walk we start to float. Petey is there now and Gloria. My mom pulls out two roaps, maybe they are electrical cords, they are about three feet in length. She hands one to me and keeps one herself. I hold onto Gloria and Syd Petey. We start to fly. Up the hill we go, up above and very close to power lines, the tall elephant grass blows beautiful in the wind coming up from the traffic on Rainier. We are adventurous now, fearlessly we fly down very close to the grass, it tickles our faces, this is fun. Looking up, the hill has almost reached its plataue. Jauntily we bring our power cords down to the ground and land. We crawl up the last section of the hill. It is very steep. On the road the police are arresting somebody. Petey walks up ahead and he is naked, no collar, no leash. I try to grab a hold of his scruff but he bows under my hand like a cat, very supple. The police looks but take no interest. We continue to walk up the street.

In the world, the killers kills you. In dreams, the killer works for you.

Dear Lebron (Mr. Lebron and The Knee)

My knee is like a punctured and retarded bean bag. Little scrunched up nasty cuts that multiply pain bullets in my achey legs. Oh you, you and your histrionics you mutter. Lebron, downwards into the basketball hoop you dunk. Well you just think about this for a second my Lebron; maybe the basketball hoop doesnt want to be dunked into. Did you ever stop for a couple of minutes in your busy life and think to yourself; maybe the basketball hoop doesnt want to be dunked into, and if so, certainly not in front of all these people. Now you come in all fat and happy and you jump all high and mighty into the air-space and dunk. Right into the basketball hole! What kind of way is that to treat a basketball hoop. You must be crazay. You're crazy man. Who raised you that way? In my day you had to buy caesar salad dinners and give the sincerest compliments before you were allowed by the basketball hoop to shoot even a free throw into it. You must have been raised in a barn.

My fucking knee hurts, it looks like a shitty balloon filled with nasty blood and crap. The vicadin button in my brain is broken because it hurts so goddam much and these pills just feel like water.

Cooking With Out Salt

My balls are salty, think about that! Some people are not eating salt for different reasons all over the map. For instance religious; hell is made out of sulfur which is also in salt. Or ethical; in Africa its hard for elephants to get enough salt in their diet naturally so they get shot going into this one cave where the guys with guns are.
You can cut the salt out of your life easy, can you tye your shoe laces correctly? But you whiney little butt screws say; what are your methods?
In first methodology I stop putting the salt in my food. I am talking about at restaurants, in bags of potatoe chips, while cooking, etc. and etc. Stop pouring salt all over your salty ass food!
Also, try adding things like garlic salt and pre mixed salt n' pepa. There is salt in these products but because they start with another word they are caterogized differently.
Finally, accept yourself for who you are. And that is a person that loves the joyful salty flavors.

After careful reaimaginings of outcomes from youthful transgressions past I find the current crossroads equally terrifying but the edge of horror nullified by the long line of similar endevours entrenched in our experiental narratives iconography. A steady stream of unknowable variables delivering strange reaffirmations in the reaimaginning of unchangable actions and reactions, both equal in their effect. Cartoonish zombie holograms describe deep trouble.

Dear Lebron (This is A Public Forum To Ask Lebron Any Question No Matter How Relevant)

A basketball hoop is a round circular metal hoop. There is a net attached; hence the name basket. Because in the olden days and in some gay countries like germany and sri lanka this is how baskets are still made to this day! This is a fact.
This is a question: Dear Lebron James,

Have you ever played basketball with your shoes off? It would be dangerous because the floor would get sweaty from your sweat. Also; think about how much it would hurt your feet to jump in the air and slam dunk the basketball with no shoes on! You cant do that, OUCH! But playing in just socks is no better because socks are slippery and slidey. I guess the best answer is to just play in your regular basketball shoes. Michael Jordan has good shoes, did you know that Lebron James? You do too, but not really.

Anyways I bet you have all kinds of crazy basketball stories, and now that I have opened the dialogue up I am going to sit back and let the good times start rolling. Start by telling me about the first time you played basketball and then every basketball related story you have experienced or been aware of moving chronoligically forward and occasionally sideways through the passage of time. Ok GO! Just Kidding Lebron. You can only tell me one story and then I am going to take a nap to help me digest that big burrito I ate for breakfast. Goodnight.

My Door is Always Closed With The Door Locked

But Feel Free to Knock Quietly and Linger Tentavily Before Going On Your Way

Gold Tooth - Worth1000 Contests

Gold Tooth - Worth1000 Contests