Someone suggested I might be suffering from a little Post Traumatic Stress… If that explains why I’m going out of my mind crazy staring at my busted up bike out in the garage, then maybe so. I feel like guzzling liquor right out the bottle and smashing things into little tiny pieces.
I can’t sleep because I’m too awake at night and I can’t wake up in the morning because I’m too tired. It’s either feast or famine ’round here lately.
Yo. Who wants to see what my ass looks like?
Jackass took this pic while we were out riding on Sunday, on my second birthday. Now I’ve got two good excuses to get loaded every year.
Like I need an excuse.
[Hei Hei for sale] ebay.com
[Ron Paul makes sense] breitbart.tv
[good times] posttypography.com/hahafooledyou
[new shop] evergreenwheelsnthings.blogspot.com
[stoner bike innovarion] theanthills.com
[harden the fuck up] youtube.com
[Here's one to think about] bushflash.com
Subject: The Unfortunate
As I walked down the busy footpath, knowing I was late for an important meeting, my eye fell upon one of those unfortunate, homeless vagabonds that are found in every city these days.
Wearing what can only be describes as rags, carrying every worldly possession in two plastic bags, my heart was touched by this persons condition.
Some people turned to stare. Others quickly looked away as if the sight would somehow contaminate them.
Now that is unfortunate. And Viva Las Vegas at the same time. Go figure.by