I changed my template like two months ago! Does this mean you haven't read federalcheese since then? I know it's a worthless endeavor, but I thought we were friends. I guess I thought WRONG!
Wow. I am sooooooooooooo happy, I can feel it all over the place. Gerald would say that what I’m experiencing is a gift from God, or a "treasure hunt gone right" from Sir Jesus Christ himself. Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot I’m not associating myself with that flaming sack of shit, Gerald. I no longer even know who he is. He is nothing to me, not even a ghost or an apparition or a part of my long ago quest for salvation and understanding in an uncompromising and unpromising existence. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!!! I can’t believe you saw those guys at Hollywood waiting for Episode III. Some of my friends from ‘Jonesing For The Jedi’ (that’s the group I made up of my Empire friends who WORSHIP all things Jedi, the way that Gerald motherfucker worships God. Oops, sorry, no more Gerald talk!) said they were going there to wait for the movie, too, and they had to take off time from school and work, and I was supposed to go with them, but I couldn’t because they left when I was still with Gerald, who said I’d be better off joining ‘Jesus, Not Jedi’s’, a group some of his queer ass friends banned together to blame The Force on the recent string of church vandalisms that have been going on. A lot. Anyway, some of my friends, like Marissa and Jaime and I think Josh were all going. Did you see them? Marissa is short and has this ugly tattoo of a butterfly on her left ankle. On the outside. And Jaime is super short and also very Philipinoish. She only wears those flip flop sandals and t-shirts that talk about old high school and college athletics. And she is pretty fat. Josh looks like one of the guys from Saturday Night Live who does bad impressions. I think the guy on the show’s name is Brian. Anyway, that’d be SOOOOOOOOOO amazing if you saw them. Do you think you did? Do they sound familiar? Anyway, we like to go online and talk about the movie and the plots and try to find out if there are any spoilers on any of the sites we visit, then we pretend we’re all tough (which we sort of are), and tell them that we’ll kill their pets if they spoil anything. Usually we get rude responses. But, seriously, if anyone tells me ANYTHING about Episode III beforehand, I’ll be pissed off. Anyway, there isn’t a whole lot more to spoil. We all know that Anakin becomes Darth Vader, the Empire is born, and Natalie Padme Amidala Portman (OH MY GOD, I LOVE HER!!!) leaves her kids with Obi-Wan Kenobi and Bail Organa. I think if Sir George Lucas puts anything in the movie that is, like, so out of place or totally different from the first five, someone will bombthreat his house and wife. SO, I think that’s not a problem. OHMYGOD!! I cannot wait for May 19. One time, Ronnie camped out in front of the Orange Grove Theatre with his banda so they could see ‘Don’t Say a Word’, the movie with Brittany Murphy, because someone played a trick on them and told them that if they waited there, Brittany would arrive herself and make out with each of the first ten people waiting and let them play with her boobs. When Ronnie waited and she never came, the banda found the culprit and pissed all over his car. Now they’re all pretty good friends.
Ronnie’s doing pretty good these days, in case you’re wondering. Shawna’s looking a little bit fatter, which isn’t much because she’s already like a walking toothpick. Dad asked her if she’s worried that she will throw the baby up when she pukes after eating, and when Ronnie asked Dad what the fuck that meant and Dad said that everyone knows Shawna’s bulimic, Ronnie got all mad and said she wasn’t bulimic, she was from Ohio, and that just goes to show how much Ronnie cares for her, even if he’s as dumb as a doornail. I don’t’ think she’ll throw up the baby, but I do hope she stops smoking and dropping acid pretty soon, before the baby gets too much older. They still haven’t found a name, but I’ve suggested a lot, like Sylvestre, Jhenetica, and Walletta. But, Shawna and Ronnie said I’m too young and ugly to decide names, which doesn’t really make sense. I also wonder how long Shawna will keep working before Shadowboxer lets her take her maternity leave. It can’t be good for little Sylvestre to keep being exposed to all those different guys’ cum. Anyway, Ronnie got a new haircut and it looks real grown up, and he’s trying to get a job in plumbing or construction or maybe in architecture to help pay for Sylvestre’s (I know that’s not the baby’s name, but I call her that anyway) future, especially the diapers. Mom keeps asking Ronnie if he understands that he will have to clean up and take care of Sylvestre’s ‘accidents’, and Ronnie said ‘wiping up a baby’s shit is just like the fifty bucks I stole from Dad last week- you just move your ass fast to get the shit done, and look the other way.’ Besides, Ronnie has cleaned up shit from Danny and McNamara many times when they pooped their pants when severely drunk. Who knew the banda would end up helping Ronnie so much??
Oh, by the way, I am really excited that everyone on your blogposts are nice again and not mean about my lengthy though appropriately uplifting words. And, as for the marriage proposal, well, that’s real nice. I’m just getting out of a relationship, though, and I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into anything. And, if I do, I’m not entirely sure who it’ll be with. I know I shouldn’t blog this, but I feel if I put it into words, maybe it’ll help my confusion. The thing is, I’ve been getting some weird feelings in my head and heart and Down There. I don’t know, I just feel confused about who and what I am. See, last week, I accidentally brushed my hand all over this girl Lori’s ass, who I work with. And, it felt weird. Not the ass, but I felt kind of excited about how soft it was and how she wasn’t mad, and I don’t know about lesbianism, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing. Do you? Well, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll let you know first. In the meantime, I’m going to photo copy some of my poems and begin to sell them through this blogsite. So if anyone wants to buy some of the inspirational and undeniable poetry I’ve shared on this blog, please let me know, and I’ll send you a limited-time-only autographed copy of my poems. And, it WILL include my newest one, which I have published below:
"The Sins of My Heart Radiate Like the Smell of Gonorrhea from a Whore’s Patootie", or "It’s A God-Eat-God World, and So, Here I Am"
Gerald, Gerald, Gerald. Who the FUCK do you think you are? Comin’ into my life and making me go to the church. Tellin’ me you’re the end of my lifelong soulsearch. You’re not Jim Carrey, or even Mel Gibson. At least these guys are famous for pretending to be gods. Gerald, Gerald, Gerald. That name’s almost as stupid as Harold. Your Christ bullshit sure got old. And stunk up my life like shit on mold. On Christ and God you tried to get me sold, Gerald, Gerald, motherfucking Gerald. But, you don’t have a heart of gold. You’re a fake and a poser all rolled Into one. One, one, one Neverending cosmic story of lies. Psalm 69 says, I’M A ASSHOLE, he cries.
And that ‘he’ is you, Gerald. Gerald, Gerald, Gerald. Fuck you.
Sorry for the profanities, but it’s my soul yelling out for expression. It’s not me. Well, tell me what’s new with you and when was the last time you had yellow cake with chocolate frosting.
Your juxtaposed yet not jealously jaded Jedi junkie, Chloe Dove
that wasn't chloe, or even DAVE. i knows me my chloe when i see it, and that ain't it. for one thing, she didn't introduce herself as chloe right off the bat, which she always does. for another, WAAAY too much cursing. chloe does not have a potty mouth. finally, there were only three incredibly long run-on paragraphs, as opposed to her usual twelve. so, nice try JOSHUA FITZHOUGH HILLIS. close, but no cigar...
6 comments:
i dunno, i kinda liked the old one. but hey, if it makes you feel good inside...
I fear change.
I changed my template like two months ago! Does this mean you haven't read federalcheese since then? I know it's a worthless endeavor, but I thought we were friends. I guess I thought WRONG!
Wow. I am sooooooooooooo happy, I can feel it all over the place. Gerald would say that what I’m experiencing is a gift from God, or a "treasure hunt gone right" from Sir Jesus Christ himself. Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot I’m not associating myself with that flaming sack of shit, Gerald. I no longer even know who he is. He is nothing to me, not even a ghost or an apparition or a part of my long ago quest for salvation and understanding in an uncompromising and unpromising existence. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!!! I can’t believe you saw those guys at Hollywood waiting for Episode III. Some of my friends from ‘Jonesing For The Jedi’ (that’s the group I made up of my Empire friends who WORSHIP all things Jedi, the way that Gerald motherfucker worships God. Oops, sorry, no more Gerald talk!) said they were going there to wait for the movie, too, and they had to take off time from school and work, and I was supposed to go with them, but I couldn’t because they left when I was still with Gerald, who said I’d be better off joining ‘Jesus, Not Jedi’s’, a group some of his queer ass friends banned together to blame The Force on the recent string of church vandalisms that have been going on. A lot. Anyway, some of my friends, like Marissa and Jaime and I think Josh were all going. Did you see them? Marissa is short and has this ugly tattoo of a butterfly on her left ankle. On the outside. And Jaime is super short and also very Philipinoish. She only wears those flip flop sandals and t-shirts that talk about old high school and college athletics. And she is pretty fat. Josh looks like one of the guys from Saturday Night Live who does bad impressions. I think the guy on the show’s name is Brian. Anyway, that’d be SOOOOOOOOOO amazing if you saw them. Do you think you did? Do they sound familiar? Anyway, we like to go online and talk about the movie and the plots and try to find out if there are any spoilers on any of the sites we visit, then we pretend we’re all tough (which we sort of are), and tell them that we’ll kill their pets if they spoil anything. Usually we get rude responses. But, seriously, if anyone tells me ANYTHING about Episode III beforehand, I’ll be pissed off. Anyway, there isn’t a whole lot more to spoil. We all know that Anakin becomes Darth Vader, the Empire is born, and Natalie Padme Amidala Portman (OH MY GOD, I LOVE HER!!!) leaves her kids with Obi-Wan Kenobi and Bail Organa. I think if Sir George Lucas puts anything in the movie that is, like, so out of place or totally different from the first five, someone will bombthreat his house and wife. SO, I think that’s not a problem. OHMYGOD!! I cannot wait for May 19. One time, Ronnie camped out in front of the Orange Grove Theatre with his banda so they could see ‘Don’t Say a Word’, the movie with Brittany Murphy, because someone played a trick on them and told them that if they waited there, Brittany would arrive herself and make out with each of the first ten people waiting and let them play with her boobs. When Ronnie waited and she never came, the banda found the culprit and pissed all over his car. Now they’re all pretty good friends.
Ronnie’s doing pretty good these days, in case you’re wondering. Shawna’s looking a little bit fatter, which isn’t much because she’s already like a walking toothpick. Dad asked her if she’s worried that she will throw the baby up when she pukes after eating, and when Ronnie asked Dad what the fuck that meant and Dad said that everyone knows Shawna’s bulimic, Ronnie got all mad and said she wasn’t bulimic, she was from Ohio, and that just goes to show how much Ronnie cares for her, even if he’s as dumb as a doornail. I don’t’ think she’ll throw up the baby, but I do hope she stops smoking and dropping acid pretty soon, before the baby gets too much older. They still haven’t found a name, but I’ve suggested a lot, like Sylvestre, Jhenetica, and Walletta. But, Shawna and Ronnie said I’m too young and ugly to decide names, which doesn’t really make sense. I also wonder how long Shawna will keep working before Shadowboxer lets her take her maternity leave. It can’t be good for little Sylvestre to keep being exposed to all those different guys’ cum. Anyway, Ronnie got a new haircut and it looks real grown up, and he’s trying to get a job in plumbing or construction or maybe in architecture to help pay for Sylvestre’s (I know that’s not the baby’s name, but I call her that anyway) future, especially the diapers. Mom keeps asking Ronnie if he understands that he will have to clean up and take care of Sylvestre’s ‘accidents’, and Ronnie said ‘wiping up a baby’s shit is just like the fifty bucks I stole from Dad last week- you just move your ass fast to get the shit done, and look the other way.’ Besides, Ronnie has cleaned up shit from Danny and McNamara many times when they pooped their pants when severely drunk. Who knew the banda would end up helping Ronnie so much??
Oh, by the way, I am really excited that everyone on your blogposts are nice again and not mean about my lengthy though appropriately uplifting words. And, as for the marriage proposal, well, that’s real nice. I’m just getting out of a relationship, though, and I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into anything. And, if I do, I’m not entirely sure who it’ll be with. I know I shouldn’t blog this, but I feel if I put it into words, maybe it’ll help my confusion. The thing is, I’ve been getting some weird feelings in my head and heart and Down There. I don’t know, I just feel confused about who and what I am. See, last week, I accidentally brushed my hand all over this girl Lori’s ass, who I work with. And, it felt weird. Not the ass, but I felt kind of excited about how soft it was and how she wasn’t mad, and I don’t know about lesbianism, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing. Do you? Well, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll let you know first.
In the meantime, I’m going to photo copy some of my poems and begin to sell them through this blogsite. So if anyone wants to buy some of the inspirational and undeniable poetry I’ve shared on this blog, please let me know, and I’ll send you a limited-time-only autographed copy of my poems. And, it WILL include my newest one, which I have published below:
"The Sins of My Heart Radiate Like the Smell of Gonorrhea from a Whore’s Patootie", or "It’s A God-Eat-God World, and So, Here I Am"
Gerald, Gerald, Gerald.
Who the FUCK do you think you are?
Comin’ into my life and making me go to the church.
Tellin’ me you’re the end of my lifelong soulsearch.
You’re not Jim Carrey, or even Mel Gibson.
At least these guys are famous for pretending to be gods.
Gerald, Gerald, Gerald.
That name’s almost as stupid as Harold.
Your Christ bullshit sure got old.
And stunk up my life like shit on mold.
On Christ and God you tried to get me sold,
Gerald, Gerald, motherfucking Gerald.
But, you don’t have a heart of gold.
You’re a fake and a poser all rolled
Into one.
One, one, one
Neverending cosmic story of lies.
Psalm 69 says, I’M A ASSHOLE, he cries.
And that ‘he’ is you, Gerald.
Gerald, Gerald, Gerald.
Fuck you.
Sorry for the profanities, but it’s my soul yelling out for expression. It’s not me. Well, tell me what’s new with you and when was the last time you had yellow cake with chocolate frosting.
Your juxtaposed yet not jealously jaded Jedi junkie, Chloe Dove
that wasn't chloe, or even DAVE. i knows me my chloe when i see it, and that ain't it. for one thing, she didn't introduce herself as chloe right off the bat, which she always does. for another, WAAAY too much cursing. chloe does not have a potty mouth. finally, there were only three incredibly long run-on paragraphs, as opposed to her usual twelve. so, nice try JOSHUA FITZHOUGH HILLIS. close, but no cigar...
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