Wednesday, March 19, 2003

It. That's it. I have become overwhelmed by the disfunctional nature of our system. Killing a-rabs in a fit of pent-up testosterone. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck! I can't even cope with it anymore, and now that we're at war, chances are we're stuck with Apeshit Jr. for another six years. When people talk about the legacy that's being left for the youth of the world, they're right. Look at what we're left with. Just take a look at this big 'fuck you' that's being left on our doorsteps for us to clean up. I don't know where to start to make a difference, though I will do something. I suggest we all do.

Monday, March 17, 2003

I know I have at least three readers who live outside of Scripps High, so I'm opening up the comments to a little debate. Do you think that suburbia supresses creativity and personal growth or allows us to experience music, literature and the rest in an unthreatening, undistracting environment? Personally, I don't know.

Sunday, March 16, 2003

Alright, you've had your intellectual reprieve. Now let me pull out my acoustic and play a little poem. If Thom Yorke went to Scripps:

Lock me up
Throw away the key
Nothing's come over me
Something's come over me.

Crush them one at a time
But they breed like rabbits
Breed like rabbits
And they'll fill you up with
Blinding car lights and
This big this big
They're like ticks
They won't wash out.

Lowest ever prices on nothing
Gee it's foggy in here
Gee it's foggy in here
But there's blinding lights outside
And my neighbors want to hurt me
Curl up in my living room
Feel not want not

Tell me when to laugh.


Hell, I'm laughing.
Aliens vs. Predator vs. Mr. T

Sup, muthafucka
I searched for "home town smell."

My google search for "Valentin image night" (Valentin) yielded these results: