Little Girl

Today it was clarrified to me, that pants hanging halfway down your ass is drawn up as indecent exposure.

Now seeing as bums laced in white "Sportman" boxer briefs are quartered into the same category as say a, flasher giving an old lady the old one eyed snake, I figured a strong rebuttal against archaic procedure is in order.

As any loyal follower would remember, I once wrote a piece concerning my flat ass and the unbridled prejudice I encountered due to such an unfortunate genetic mishap. There prejudices were/are namely centered in the account of verbal obscenities drawn within correlative remarks about flat walls and rectal cavities. Not cool.

Look, low hanging jeans just make me feel comfortable ok? I don't enjoy the bunching I receive in the frontal pelvic cavity, nor do I sympathize with inseam that magically transposes itself into cracks better left unamed. A 4 inch spacer between the waist and belt is all I ever needed.

Also, did you ever even think that I might actually ENJOY waddling around like a self-righteous penguin? No. No you didn't. Its called empathy you sociopathic nutjob. Get some.

Anyways, I should probably let these institutions know that as of today I am declaring my low hanging jeans, as sanctioned by fresh UN law, a relief effort garnered upon flat bums everywhere. Viva La Levis.

Hello Mr. Robotoman.

How are we today? Are we looking for more lube Mr. Robotoman? Have your buckets gone rusted?

Do not worry Mr. Robotoman, for do I have some hope for you yet! I have here, a 2L bottle of baby oil made with nothing but the best blood sweat and tears of a hungry Somalian child! Do not fear Mr. Robotoman, no-one will catch you! No-one will hear of your squeaky joints as you approach in feint steps. Quiet Quiet Mr. Robotoman, this is what we sell. Only $5.99.

I started to watch and read alot of news on my day off today.

Not a good idea.
Yikes.

G from the stage with an abundance of change.

Granted, life is funny.

Whats even funnier however, is when people dwell in the preconcieved notions of your own life.

And then act so assuming they have you figured out.

LOL. Keep dreaming boys and girls, cause you don't know shit...ok?

:)

Unspoken words.

Ever wonder what your thoughts would say if they were given the chance? Remember those belched hickups inside your head? What stories of grandure would they indulge in if someone came and sat beside them for an evening?

A lofty tale perhaps?

Maybe they would speak of journey through the endless expanse of the atom. Their movement lost under the light of an electronic star shifting in its quantum orbit.

Communicability under duress.