THE PEASANT LIFE

Today, my business partner and i were cruising along a thoroughfare when a bus cut in front of us at a busy intersection. After shouting token slurs stereotyping him as an asian who can't drive, we ended up rolling up by his side and hurling actual abuse and saliva at him. Rob called him a PEASANT and asked him quite concerned how a bus driver's wage supports his peasant family! Fair quesions no?
WELL, the peasant driver decided to coin a brilliant comeback, accusing us of being PEDOPHILES! Shock, hurt, horror, gasps we went through it all - we were touched to the deepest pores of our SOULS man..but anyway, it was a pretty crude argument and best of all as we driving along our seperate voyages through life, a big fat green golly of a spit landed on his window just as he licked his index finger as if to go tttttttttttttssssst.
So suck on that all you peasants living peasant lives feasting on scraps and generally feeling like the dregs of society that feel like they have accuse random 20 year old's of being pedophiles.

P.S im not knocking all bus drivers as peasants, i think they do a stirringly BORING but necessary job, I am just talking ot all those extraverted and closet PEASANTS that block access to public urinals, that wipe our winshields on main streets, that ramble and rave with themselves, who's best and only friend is really a ragged mut of a dog.....
The Peasant Life.

a challenge.

So i have a lovely friend right, G-UNIT, who's having a party next week and feels compelled to let everyone know about it joyfully, ruefully and consistently at every turn and every silence. Her intense voice will perforate any silence in any situation with either a reminder to wish her a happy birthday on her birthday and NOT TO FORGET MAN or to rekindle on our diaries to COME TO MY PARTY MAN!!! Don't worry G UNIT - ill be there, pimping, maccing, snitching, bitching, blunting and definately niggering it up (oops)...
Parties are a bitch man, tell me about your experiences of having parties!?!? My personal ones at "THE STUD" are mean, mean, mean affairs.
Love.

THE GODFATHER OF SOUL

When you think of soul, funk, disco and all manners of uber chic hero's of yesteryear -what types of things spring to mind? Disco Stu, James Brown, Afro's, John Travolta - They were all channeling their inner uber's, or as i like to now call it inner Fabio's. To most people that means absolutely fuck all, but to my select inner cirlce of refugees - it actually does make sense.

I need a night out wearing disco clothing. I tried, once, as a temperemental and hormonal teenager to dress up as John Travolta, but failed miserably due to several key things: WAY too much hair gel - COMPLETE lack of dancing skills - a really LOUD (some would say uber) leather jacket - no LEATHER PANTS and just a general lack of cool pizzazz to pull off my inner fonz. eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.

i'm one of THOSE guys hey, a blogger.

Meet me. I'm that guy that's a blogger. Leave now, it's up to you. I don't mind, i'm another fixture in the herd, another wannabe reeled into the system. For so long i steered clear of homogenous forms of communication like blogs and social networking. But the forces that surround us are too strong man. Ha, a vagabond one day - a slave to the man the next. Fuck me, stop listening - but if you do stay, i guess i should state my intentions now: As this blog will focus on all things unholy, ceremonious, hedonistic and fun that comes into my life. The things i say, things i do, things i've done -they'll all be here.
Again, leave now...


Wait, maybe this post should be a little longer. Maybe i should introduce myself. Maybe i should try and learn the art and politics that go into making a blog PHAT. Or just tie myself to my seat and write write write and share all my musings with all you lovely, faceless people. You are not invisible my dear friends, it's just that fortunately for you, you can't see me. But i hope you will virtually fall in love with my innanities. My bone dry humour. My arrogance. Humour. Silence.