REALLY FUCKING SCARY!!!



-RaiNny

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Okay. Very slowly I'm coming to the realization, despite what others keep telling me, that I'm losing "it". Whatever the hell "it" is-- "it" is something inherent in most people that allows them to distinguish between "real" and "not real".
Reality is what stays behind when you stop believing in it. I never believed in anything in the first place, and there's still so much absurdity that it's hard to understand how the world can stay in orbit with all this wobbly, defective junk dancing around on its surface. If I were the earth, I'd be quite sick of all the dancing, hurling, and reproducing. Not to mention polka bands and accordions and all the other so-called "inventions" of the addled human brain meats. Enough of the vague allusions. Let's move on to something more concrete.

ARE YOU SEEING WHAT I'M SEEING? PART: THE FIRST.


Okay, I have a few questions. Why am I attracted to Link? Isn't Link supposed to be a dude. A bad-ass Mofo out to save the princess from the pig-like Gannondorf?

Second question: Those first few lines cannot be japanese. They must be the singer just vocalizing, rapping, scatting. Please tell me they have no meaning. PLEASE.

Third question: Zelda is an awesome cage dancer. Actually, that was more of a comment than a question.

Third REAL question: why does Zelda's voice sound like a geriatric female voice-actor doing her best impression of pure annoying condensed into a human form and given sentience?

But Daa-yum, they can dance. I've watched it about a hundred times now, and i've got the first couple of steps of Link's dance down pat. Look forward to a Doc rendition in the near, drunken future.

--HK_Newbie

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-RaiNny

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Yes, Ladies and gentleman, I managed to get ahold of the latest "banned" South Park episode using my l33test H4x0ring Skillz. I've said it before, and i'll say it again, Tom Cruise is a freak and deserves nothing from the public other than acidic ridicule. Thankfully, the writers for South Park agree with me (how could anyone DISAGREE with me?!) and decided to pen this particular script. Thank you, god, for occasional, satirical sanity; without which, the whole human race would degenerate into meaningless monkey rituals and cargo plane worshipping morons.

--HK_Newbie

P.S. Natedawg, this brings back memories of downloading SP episodes at the apt. and watching them while drinking gallons of self-distilled vodka and shooting it out of our noses...actually, I might have imagined that last part.

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This morning I took my car in for a oil change and I find out that there's a leak somewhere in my transmission. My mechanic told me that I would most likely need to get a new one since my car has about a billion miles on it. So I it's gonna cost me about $1300. Not a real big deal, but just fucking annoying as all hell. And as I was driving home in this irritated state, my cell phone goes off. So there I am driving like 60 miles down a 35 mile per hr. road digging in my pocket for my cell when I get pulled over for speeding. I answer my cell anyway, since I've now gotten pulled over and by this point I'm fucking furious. It's a co-worker and guess what she has to say? Sorry, I dialed the wrong number but, how's it going anyway? I hang up.

Cop asks for the usual and wants to know if I knew I was going that fast, and I acknowledged that I did. Made some BS up about going home to get to work on time when suddenly he sees the SigSauer decal sticker I left in my car from picking up my Blackwater the other day. He starts yaking bla bla bla about how he tried to get his dept. to get some Sigs and that they're the Masteratis of Pistols etc. We must have stood there talking about handguns for about 15 mins. Then he tells me he'll let me go because I have good taste in firearms!! What a fucking freak! But thank God nonetheless.

I get home and I drive into my local gun club to get some membership paperwork done when I see a few guys shooting trap. I mean I been wanting to do "this" for so long and I found this to be a great oportunity... Cell phones; what can I say? They're fucking annoying as hell, never work most the time and cause cancer. (well i really don't know about that, but anyway) And I really don't use it all that much and all the people that call me are annoying ass bitches with the exception of like 2 people. (you know who you are) So anyway, I get this ever so spontaneous idea. I ask one of the gentleman to pretend my cell is a skeet and without hesitation he told me he would with a good robust laugh. He also shared my hatred of cell phones apparently. So I tossed it in the air as hard as I could and for a moment there it almost seemed like it was frozen in time. Ever so gently gliding through the air, dancing with the soft breeze. It was beautiful. Then with a shocking thunderous BOOM! it was obliterated into a gazillion little pieces and for once in a very long long time, I, was happy.

--Gking4ever

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Porky & Porkies

I just tried a new korean BBQ place called "Porky & Porkies" at 11th and Washington Ave. I must say its the best korean BBQ I have ever been to. This statement has absolutely no value since I have never been to a korean BBQ before, but I do know its only $15 for all you can eat at lunch which is a good deal given the prices at other places. I must have cooked about four full plates of bul-go-ki. The place was very clean with a bar and plasma screen tv's playing something in korean subtitled in korean. I heard the place is only a year old, but its a great location. I give it 7 thumbs up. I should bring a camera in the future, posts with no pictures are kinda lame, just like the way I made 'kind of' into 'kinda'.

~ Rainny

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GO FORWARD, MY ANT ARMIES, MY BUTTERFLY BATTALIONS!

FOR THE AMERICAN WAY OF LIFE! FOR GREAT JUSTICE!

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I think I will set the record for the most consecutive posts in one day. I wanted to give my friends dojo a plug. David who founded the club 3 years ago has turned it into a really successful organization. He attracts many of the great sensei's from Philadelphia and New York. Since you all love martial arts, if you are ever in Jersey, I recommend check the club out. He would be more than happy to let your borrow gear for the night and enjoy the thrill of getting hit in the face with a Shinai. Princeton Kendo Homepage

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I had a dream last night. It involved something that happens in the future. It can best be described by this famous quote, "It's your kids Marty, something happens to your kids" (BTTF2) I saw how our musical talent was passed on to our kids.

Natedawg - as my love for guitar and classical combine, I manage to not only pass on my musical skillz, but my ability to make sexy faces that bring in all the ladies.



Gking - with his passion for classical and the magic of hentai reproduction, passed his skillz onto his daughter.



Rainny and Calamity - because you refused to listen to Gkings advice on bumbing ugly, you managed to have a guitar prodigy who loves shredding the amazing classic of cannon D.



HK Newbie - newbie understood that he loved music, but just couldn't grasp it himself, so he genetically altered his son to be the worlds best cowbell player.



As an added bonus, I have thrown in another rendition of Nights of Fire for old time sake.



-Natedawg

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After reading Gkings very graphic description of his current illness, I thought back to my childhood and thought about the things they made me feel better when I wasn't doing so well. The one thing that always seems to help when you are not doing well is music. It seems have the power to lift you up. So I recorded this song for Gking to help lift him up. Karate It requires quicktime. Enjoy.

-Natedawg

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Ladies and Gents,

As we all know, there's something seriously rotten in the states of New Mexico and Washington. Most likely, it stems from the nuclear testing done in the 40's; when no one had a single clue about what the hell they were doing.

I believe their hypothesis went something like this: Split atom from isotope-->start chain reaction-->big explosion ensues (be sure to purchase some bad ass reflective glasses)--> Universe may or may not explode--> Go USA!

You have to love their gumption. You also have to love the word gumption. I demand it.

The unexpected side effects which include, but are not limited to, cancer, freakish goiters, super powers, and an almost magnetic attraction to psychotic maniacs that love telling me their life-fucking-story.
But that's another story.

Let's compare freaks now, shall we?

Round 1

Category
Maniacal killers:

New Mexico:


This handsome fellow is the stereotypical new mexican maniacal killing freak: huge protruding skull, evil glaring eyes, and a penchant for canabalism. Who knew exposure to high amounts of fallout could be so fun?







Washington:

This hideous beast is actually a combination of spare body parts the entity amputated on its way to the local bar (it leaves a fairly easy trail to follow, just look for people with one or two less limbs than they look like they should have). Its true form is something only glimpsed at for a brief moment after it has lured its prey (young, virile males) into a secluded location and drains them of their precious bodily fluids.


Round 1 most definitely goes to Washington. You just can't beat something that steals your precious bodily fluids. Believe me, YOU CAN'T!

Look for round 2 shortly....

--HK_Newbie

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Hello and Greetings from so-called "evergreen" Washington state. Sigh...(yes, I actually typed "sigh") I can feel the radiation leaking (soaking, having-tea-with?) my body, doing irreparable damage to my vas deferens, ultimately destroying any chance of me ever reproducing (as if I had any chance to begin with!). Why my current slave master sees fit to send me to these nuclear wastelands is beyond my ability to comprehend, but apparently it has something to do with them HATING ME.


Back to Washington: I don't know why they call it the "evergreen" state. Yes, yes, it has a ton of trees-- Whoop-dee-fucking-doo! But what does that tell us about the assholes who inhabit its political boarders? There's gotta be some truth in advertising, and it shouldn't restrain itself to describing the landscape.

Listen to me Washington State (this goes for the other 47 contiguous as well-- Hawaii and Alaska are self-righteous bitches, so they don't count): when you come up with a tagline, you gotta spice it up a bit. Lie! Make Shit Up! And for God's sake, don't come up with some pathetic, non-enticing truth!

What I always say is: if you're gonna lie, why not go balls out and say something totally ridiculous and unbelievable? Call it the "get laid" capital of the world, or the "most beautiful place on Earth" (except everyone already knows, that title is reserved for whatever 3 feet of personal space I'm currently occupying; so right now, a section of Washington is indeed "the most beautiful place on Earth").

Well folks, that's really about it. I went out on St. Patrick's Day. Got really, really drunk. Tossed my cookies in the hotel lobby (oh, they just loved that). And slept for 18 HOURS. All-in-all, it was a good weekend.

--HK_Newbie

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Why is it, everytime I go out into the world in another spoiled attempt to have fun, someone has to go all aggro on me and try to ruin my night? Take last night for example: fat tuesday at Fat Tuesdays in S. Street Philadelphia.

For some reason, I was wearing a jester's hat as I went into the bathroom, and as I was doing my thing at the urinal (whistling "check up on it" by Beyonce. Don't ask why. I just want it out of my head before I forcibly extract it like I did that CIA listening device they implanted in my ear canal a few years ago) I heard a gruff voice say "Gimme dat hat" (yes, he actually said "dat". I'm pretty sure he was from some Eastern Bloc country that refuses to pronounce their "th's") then he proceeded to snatch the hat from my head. I finished up at the urinal, very angry, and came face to face with the friend of the idiot who stole my hat; lets call them idiot #1 (the hat-stealer)and idiot #2 (the friend). Idiot #2 apologized, handed the hat back to me, and asked me to forgive his drunken friend. Idiot #2 then tried to cold cock me. Thankfully, he was very drunk (suprise!) and ended up punching not so much me, as he did the tiled wall three feet to my left. Then again, I could have just displaced myself that distance without even realizing it, ninja-style. But I doubt it. I think he just couldn't aim for shit.
I lost it for a minute (i was already pretty buzzed by that point) and pushed him into the toilet stall and started walking away. The bouncers chose that opportune time to rush into the bathroom, grab drunken idiot #1 and #2, and ask me if they should kick them out. It was my good luck that the bathroom monitor type-guy saw the whole thing go down, and told the bouncers that it was the 2 morons, and not the single, bad-ass, and almost painfully physically attractive young man that began the fight. Idiot #2 was saying things like "he won't do anything" refering to idiot #1, and Idiot #1 was having some difficulty adjusting to the sheer amount of fleshy, bouncer meat crushing his arms to the sides of his body. I told the bouncer leader (lets call him Togar "the destroyer") that so long as they didn't fuck with me anymore, i didn't care if they stayed. Idiot #1 then screwed things up for himself and his buddy by shouting something highly lucid and threatening along the lines of "I'm gonna fucking kill you, you fucking fuck!". I laughed, waved bye bye, and the crowd of bouncers dragged idiot #1 and idiot #2 to mingle with their own kind of defective grey matter out in the street.

Needless to say, my night was ruined. I spent the rest of the time there looking over my shoulder, hoping the idiots' friends wouldn't come into the bar with my description (jester hat, bad ass, super sexy) and try to snap my neck. Yay for Mardi Gras!

--HK_Newbie

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