Take a Proustian journey through my life vis-à-vis the words I have published to the Internet over the last four decades.
I want to be a baller, shot-caller, 20 inch blades on the Impala, call her, getting laid tonight… these wise words of Lil’ Troy echoed in my ears the entire day. Even now, it is in my head, wanting to be screamed at the top of my lungs.
Well, I continue to be the only one who truly updates the site. Bret has added his new layout, and that’s been it as for other contributors. Oh well, I am not complaining, I am just confused. At least the cam is back up. So maybe that’s a sign that things are changing.
Well, I continue to be the only one who truly updates the site. Bret has added his new layout, and that’s been it as for other contributors. Oh well, I am not complaining, I am just confused. At least the cam is back up. So maybe that’s a sign that things are changing.
From now on, there will not be any stops in Nothing in General as a weekly installment; this is my pledge. The other day I saw this lady with a picture of a “Xena”-looking woman airbrushed onto the hood of her car. I laughed. She looked like a redneck. She probably was.
One day I want to be a spaceman, but I am afraid of brain-craving mutant aliens who have bad attitudes. I want to encounter some type of good-natured alien named Mog, that sells girl scout cookies to hitch hikers across the galaxy. I think it would be a cool thing.