We put the 'ass' in class....

So, I'm trippin' out here.  It really blows my mind to hear the songs I grew up with are being introduced as classic rock.  Stone Temple Pilots?  Classic?  That makes me feel old. 

A car becomes a classic after like 20 years.  So am I a classic?  I don't want to be a classic.  Now, referring to my pecker as a classic makes me laugh.  Kind of makes me proud.  That's nearly bragging rights.  But me?  I'm not digging that too much.

Classic cars are missing parts.  They have holes in the floor boards and they leak fluids.  They are not reliable.  I don't like the sound of that.  Yet here I am listening to the classic rock station introducing Alice and Chains. 

Classic Rock!

This can't be right.  Seems I heard a saying about the older the berry the sweeter the juice.  Come to think of it...the saying goes "the blacker the berry...."  Well, just wait till they're calling Marilyn Manson 'classic rock'.  And why doesn't this apply to rap music?  Why only rock n' roll?  I have yet to hear of the 'classic' rap station.  As far as I know, they place Tupac long side with Little Wayne.  I mean....Jay Z has been around for like 30 years.  So has NAS.  The DJ isn't introducing these guys as classics.  "Here's another oldie but a goodie....a classic rap by Snoop Dog."

What about Easy-E?  Dude ran shit with N.W.A. That pimp would jump out da grave and pop-a-cap in yo ass for calling him a classic.  B.B. King may smile.  :)

'Classic' must be a 'white thing'.  White dudes restores a classic car and goes 'original'.  Mexicans restore a classic and installs hydrolics, a chain steering wheel and spokes.  A black dude jacks it up, puts it on 26's with bass in the trunk, T.V.s in the headrest and Louis Vuitton interrior. 
So, my question is.....what is a classic?

A car and a song becomes a classic at 20, but a person can't even buy a beer at 20.  Look back at the hair bands of the 80s.  I mean Poison, Motley Crue, Cinderella.....yep, all classic now.  I can see why Kiss would be considered a classic.  Just look at Gene Simmons.  All that paint did something to that face. 

What paint?

Yes.  Missing parts, bondo and leadking fluids all come to mind when I think Kiss.    

Should we address Bret Michaels?  Have you ever seen him without the bandana?  What's going on up there anyways?  My dad once had a ballcap that had a ponytail sewed onto the back of it.  When I see old Bret and his bandana collection, I can't help but wonder if the hair extensions are attached to his head, or the rag.  Whatever.  Even his lip-pucker-smile seems fake to me.

The bandana.  The lip-pucker-smile.

*GASP*  Bret with no bandana!  (I imagine J.J. will be pleased.)

For what it's worth, I hope to age peacefully.  I don't smoke, use drugs or even drink.  That should help.  And, if all else fails, I'll invest in the hat with ponytail. 

In case of a major overhaul, I would like to become a mexican lowrider.  In part to the Lowrider song from Cheech and Chong...but mainly because I love those little chain sterring wheels.



Can you see the little chain steering wheel he loves to much?

Then, if I could just get one of those little Taco Bell dogs to look out the back window.  Can everyone say, "Hot Chalupa?!" 

Ok.  I'm done here.

I Feel

Dirt floor poor?
Yeah...been there before
I ain't no stranger
Walked with danger
Felt the pain
My life a stain
On the wall of life.

Done the deed
Committed the crime....
In another world
I do the time
With a bullet in my hand
I stand....
Alone.  Far from home.

No longer a stain
I felt the rain
Washed away the pain
Today I feel
Bone of steel
I'm standin' tall
Fuck it
Fuck you....Fuck it all.

I saw the light
In a dream last night
You were here
And as I drew you near
Your lips brushed mine
And I long for the time
When dreams become real.

Because I feel.

Eviction Notice Part 2

Check this out!  So, not long ago we ran 'Eviction Notice'.  Quick recap....

My last bunkie sucked, and pissed me off daily.  After over a year of sleeping below this guy, he finally transferred.  Meet my new bunkie...

The new kid moves in.  He's 26, and we get along good. He sits and watches me draw.  He likes art.  He's clean, and he is silly stupid...just like me.  We can make the whole dorm laugh, much like me and Scottie use to do.  "HI SCOTTIE!!"  :)

So late the other night, me and the bunkie are still awake.  The dorm is quiet.  No noise.  We can whisper and be heard.  All of a sudden my bunkie pops his head over the edge, like a freakin' squirrel and says, "Mike!" in his normal, loud voice.  I say, "What dude?"  And this is our conversation, in the middle of the night.  Lights off.  Voices at normal volume...so the whole dorm of 72 dudes hear this shit...

"Mike!  I know you're a panty snatcher!" 

I say, "What the fuck are you talking aboug?"

He goes on..."Dude, I know you're stealing my panties." 

Ok, this is fine.  So we're gonna play.  You put me on blast, I'm gonna put you on blast.  So I reply with, "Bro, I don't want your panties, and quit leaving your high heels beside my bed.  You're making the block hot." 

Now, dudes are waking up.  People are now laughing.  Hooting.  Cat calling.  We are center stage.  He then points at my laundry bag, which is full of clothes and says, "Bro, I see your bag is full of panties.  You can't hide that bag!" 

"Ok, yeah, you caught me bro.  Maybe if you smelled more like a man we wouldn't have this problem.  But you smell like a chick." 

The bunkie is laughing.  The whole dorm is laughing.  And I'm inspired.  So, I continue, "And listen.  I'm only gonna tell you about these high heels one more time.  Quit puttin' them by my bunk!"  He continues to laugh, and yells, "Panty-sniffer!"

So, I continue..."And, if your gonna stay out all night 'trickin' you need to start coming home with some food.  At least some soup or a honey bun.  Don't tell me you just give that ass away!"  (Uhh...see what I am dealing with here?) This kid is funny.  Super witty.  I dig the guy.   

Right now it's 2 a.m. and again, he just leaned over the side of the bunk.  "Dude!  Dude!  Put your radio on 101.5 fm!"  (He's really excited.)  He goes on...."Marilyn Manson is on and Beautiful People."

This may not be that crazy to you.  However, my bunkie is black.  And he listens to country and rock & roll.  He hates rap music.  This kids is a fuckin' trip.  And together, we're nuts.  He only has two months left before he goes home.  I swear he's the best bunkie I've ever had. 

I do a heavy chest routine.  My pecs are freaky.  This nut-bag calls them my "man boobs."  He either calls me 'dude' or 'man boobs'.  Yeah, it's funny as hell.  I can't help but laugh.  Some days I have the upper hand. The other day he tore me up with "Hey, man boobs!  You know when you get old, you're gonna have titties!  Then you can wear those high heels for sure." 

All I can do is laugh.  The kid's funny.  Plus, I'll get beat up for a good laugh.  He went off.  Man boobs.  God, the people you meet here. 

I've been blessed.  It helps your time pass quicker when you keep it light.  This kid is 24-7 pulling pranks.  I'll get up at 2 am to piss....come back and he's in my bed curled up.  Fuckin' idiot.  So, really this has no point.  Just Part II of Eviction Notice. 

I hope that you are blessed with a great bunkie.  If you are not....hit him (or her) with an eviction notice!  And don't snatch panties or leave high heels out.  Someone could get hurt...or the wrong idea. 

Word!!