It's amazing, people, how your name has so much importance. It's how you identify yourself to everyone you meet and even to people who meet you. But names are just words! They're just made-up things that come from other made up things til you get back to fuckin' monkey makin' chimp sounds and then dinosaurs rawrin' and shit and then to the first sound any animal ever made! It was probably like a "YYRRRRZERRRTTZKKK" or something, I dunno. Do you? So yeah, basically names are just organized nonsense but also at the same time they're you. It's kinda a mixed bag. We all know that type of bag, eh? You think you're all special? Qua qua qua mothafucka? That's right. Don't question it ANY more.
So back to the idea of coincidences. Do you believe in coincidence? Like as a spiritual deity. Do you believe in the one holy coincidence, who art in Coincidence Land oh I don't know what the shit, in thy name and all the shtuff? Well, I think it's safe to say that if you're not sure how to answer that question, you're probably going to burn in predetermination with the furies of a thousand tulips on a really muggy spring afternoon (that shit dank yo!). Coincidence? I think not! But really doe: how's that even a thing? Why for the love of my beloved Gandhi's rectum would you ever say "I think not"? Like more like "I not think", byatch. Or maybe I meant "Think not". OH the times. How they swish and sway the things we think we meant in our sloshy swishy brains.
Always wrap it up brothas, I gotta say. Even if you want a kid, wrap it up cuz trust me ya'll don't want kidz yo they're fuckkkkk'd up. Or maybe you do. I don't know you and you don't know me and that's the way it should happen! Surely you agree! Anywhoo, leave with peace my loyal disciples! Do not weep at our exit, rejoice as we saunter yonder!
The REAL Guardians of Ga'hoole
10 December 2012
04 December 2012
Gawd it feels good to be back
Back to all my loyal fans and admirers! I know you've missed the little twinkle of light we provide in your otherwise cloudy, sad day. But enough, I shouldn't remind you of those dark times in your lives. On to darker topics, we believe our poor Schmuck has passed on, if you will. It would seem that instead of building a passage into a new life, he made his own coffin. That's some fucked up shit, man. Sadness.
Usually sadness is a downward sloping spiral, so let's lighten the mood. A joke, perhaps? No? Okay, here's an idea for a children's television show: it's called Kid & Kid, P.I. It's a cartoon about these two detectives: one of them is an elderly goat called "the Kid", in an ironic way, and the other is an actual human child. Also, they're psychic. That's the tagline! Check it out on Cartoon Network next season motha' fuckaaaaaaas! But yeah, it's added to the growing queue of creative projects and whatnot we've been meaning to get. That being the collection including such great hits as "The Monk Show", a popular comedy show revolving around a wild temp worker filling in at a Buddhist monastery (boy o boy, I don't even need to tell you about the crazy antics that ensue), and "Caution Wet Floor: A Script", an independent film shot entirely in separate, individualized visual interpretations of the art itself, maaan. Any of these works may or may not actually come to fruition, but in any case they're awesome.
The Way of the Schmuck is the Way of the Armadillo - wait, no, scratch that. Scratch it off. It's the Way of the Universe. Yeah, Way of the Schmuck, Way of the Universe, yadda yadda, bing, baddaboom, boom. And from that, I think we can really divine the answer to everything. It all started with Schmuck, I suppose... it's true! From Schmuck cometh everything. And then there's a big convoluted other thing that gets you to the other side, the Universe bit, it's a whole eh, thing, like uhh ah it's such a fucked up thing, oh my Holy Teapot it's so horrible, Gahd, it's this whole twisted, sick, ah you don't even want to know. Jesus H. Butthole it's terrifying. On His toilet o' thorns. King of the Poos. Wow, oh kay so that one's done.
Sounds are so fucking awesome! How did we make them mean things though, ya know? Like if I were saying this to you, your ears would totally get what my sounds and tones mean. I don't even understand how that works. And also, musical sounds can make emotions out of basically nothing. It's basically God's greatest gift to His most beloved creation who He, in his almighty glory, literally killed himself and his son as one so He could forgive it. I'm talking, of course, about dolphins. They're like the goddamn masters of sound.
It seems that this post has wrapped itself up quite nicely. Or maybe I mean not at all.
Either way,
hugz n' kayz
Your friendly neighborhood guys
Usually sadness is a downward sloping spiral, so let's lighten the mood. A joke, perhaps? No? Okay, here's an idea for a children's television show: it's called Kid & Kid, P.I. It's a cartoon about these two detectives: one of them is an elderly goat called "the Kid", in an ironic way, and the other is an actual human child. Also, they're psychic. That's the tagline! Check it out on Cartoon Network next season motha' fuckaaaaaaas! But yeah, it's added to the growing queue of creative projects and whatnot we've been meaning to get. That being the collection including such great hits as "The Monk Show", a popular comedy show revolving around a wild temp worker filling in at a Buddhist monastery (boy o boy, I don't even need to tell you about the crazy antics that ensue), and "Caution Wet Floor: A Script", an independent film shot entirely in separate, individualized visual interpretations of the art itself, maaan. Any of these works may or may not actually come to fruition, but in any case they're awesome.
The Way of the Schmuck is the Way of the Armadillo - wait, no, scratch that. Scratch it off. It's the Way of the Universe. Yeah, Way of the Schmuck, Way of the Universe, yadda yadda, bing, baddaboom, boom. And from that, I think we can really divine the answer to everything. It all started with Schmuck, I suppose... it's true! From Schmuck cometh everything. And then there's a big convoluted other thing that gets you to the other side, the Universe bit, it's a whole eh, thing, like uhh ah it's such a fucked up thing, oh my Holy Teapot it's so horrible, Gahd, it's this whole twisted, sick, ah you don't even want to know. Jesus H. Butthole it's terrifying. On His toilet o' thorns. King of the Poos. Wow, oh kay so that one's done.
Sounds are so fucking awesome! How did we make them mean things though, ya know? Like if I were saying this to you, your ears would totally get what my sounds and tones mean. I don't even understand how that works. And also, musical sounds can make emotions out of basically nothing. It's basically God's greatest gift to His most beloved creation who He, in his almighty glory, literally killed himself and his son as one so He could forgive it. I'm talking, of course, about dolphins. They're like the goddamn masters of sound.
It seems that this post has wrapped itself up quite nicely. Or maybe I mean not at all.
Either way,
hugz n' kayz
Your friendly neighborhood guys
18 November 2012
Welcome to the Lion's Den, Population: You and Me
Hello all and welcome to the lion's den. It's been a while since I've last seen you, so let me catch you up on all the goings on in our neck of the woods. First off, our little shcmuck may be gone and dead. We're not entirely sure, he's just kinda chillin', so we've assumed the worst. The poor guy never got to become a beautiful luna moth, but neither do I so fuck 'im, right? And as far as that goes, fuck people! Right? Do ya'll understand me? Jah feel, the brothers of my nation and my sisters in our Lord and savior Jesus Christ almighty on his exulted cross? Too far? Ok, let's pull it back now.
It's hard to think of things to write my readership. Not really for this because I can just say what I want and ya'll just eat that shit up like it's gold (please don't eat gold. It doesn't digest well, though it's good for the gallbladder)! No, I mean for things that matter to people who judge things bast on quality. Those kinds a people are hard to please. Always trying to undermine your creative idiocy and whatnot. It's enough to drive a man insane I tell ya! And I oughta know about insanity.
If you would give me a moment, I need some more of my heavenly muse before I continue my address to you fine people. Ok, TIME OUT!
........Annnnnd time in! I'm glad to see you all doing we, hopefully we didn't lose anyone at intermission. On to a more important matter, the rising economic troubles of Greece and its strain on both the European Union as well as the world community. Yeah, that sucks, doesn't it? Makes you put your life in perspective, don't it? As far as solutions to or details on or thoughts regarding the issue, ya got me, but I know it's important and god dammit that's all that matters!
I hate to say goodbye, but ya'll my bitches and gotta catch some mothafuckin' zebras so this lion can eat! I'm the king of the pride bitchesssss!
Yours foreva,
You know who (that's right, its Tom "Muthafukin'" Riddle)
It's hard to think of things to write my readership. Not really for this because I can just say what I want and ya'll just eat that shit up like it's gold (please don't eat gold. It doesn't digest well, though it's good for the gallbladder)! No, I mean for things that matter to people who judge things bast on quality. Those kinds a people are hard to please. Always trying to undermine your creative idiocy and whatnot. It's enough to drive a man insane I tell ya! And I oughta know about insanity.
If you would give me a moment, I need some more of my heavenly muse before I continue my address to you fine people. Ok, TIME OUT!
........Annnnnd time in! I'm glad to see you all doing we, hopefully we didn't lose anyone at intermission. On to a more important matter, the rising economic troubles of Greece and its strain on both the European Union as well as the world community. Yeah, that sucks, doesn't it? Makes you put your life in perspective, don't it? As far as solutions to or details on or thoughts regarding the issue, ya got me, but I know it's important and god dammit that's all that matters!
I hate to say goodbye, but ya'll my bitches and gotta catch some mothafuckin' zebras so this lion can eat! I'm the king of the pride bitchesssss!
Yours foreva,
You know who (that's right, its Tom "Muthafukin'" Riddle)
17 November 2012
This is gonna be a weird one
As if you hadn't thought we'd been weird enough, we started getting uhhn-y on you, and you know what that means, the ole swingaroo-one-two maneuver eh? Moving forward, we find ourselves lost in the same place in which we sometimes find ourselves found at home. It is a peculiar thing this de-navigation that hath taken a turn on us unlucky souls as of late. By God, I've gotta say, it's damn fucking unbelievable ya goddamn asshole.
For those of you who were waiting for a hilarious profane joke, I didn't really have one but those words always seem funny to me, you fucking asshole. So I used 'em, what of it, eh? Gonna sue me? Do you even have money for a lawyer? Are you even qualified to sue I mean who in Gandhi's rectum do you imagine you are to have such power? How could you even fathom. The thought astounds me. Me: analogous to: astounded. I think that's probably not how those analogy symbols work but honestly you have two buttholes so I think that also settles one thing or another. The unsettled matter, of course, is us being horribly, terrifyingly lost. It's like a horror story coming to life: the place you inhabit suddenly becomes surrounded by loud noises and your body intruded upon by strange substances and all outta nowhere some "people" enter your space and you're all like WHOA man, thaaaaat's my space. Some people respect that and some people fucking don'T MAN! Obviously there hasn't been enough publication of the Rules of Everything...I don't think people are really learning. I'll list a few of the gems here, in case you schmucks want to learn a little while you're murdering brain cells (it's contagious, right? Through words, right?):
1. If you see someone's got a space going on, don't assume to be able to effect your space on that space, man; that ain't cool.
2. If we're all making a huge fucking breakfast and you get assigned to make pancakes, be sure to tell everyone you don't know how to cook them before you goddamn cook them, like an asshole, Brad.
3. Puppies are cute and cats are cute - those are both true statements that don't have to conflict with each other. Yeah this is a rule.
And so on and so forth. You get the big picture, right? It's all about savin' ya sins. Our Lord and Saviuh, gosh darnit. He's the Big Picture alright. By golly we're about outta time folks, it looks like dumb's too dumb to dumb.
Hasta luego,
Moi
09 November 2012
Bleach Everywhere, Muthafuckas
Now that's how you properly end an encounter. Really - imagine it. Some stupid people are making words at you and you're humoring them, giving a couple words back in exchange (you're amicable and shit, right? So that's cool), but really not giving a shit. Eventually you say some sort of summing-up kind of statement, like "And I guess that's why you have two buttholes," or "Sheeeeeyit, mane," and then proceed to shout it.
You shout it like a goddamned wildebeest! BLEACH EVERYWHERE MUTHAFUCKAS!!!
Do you do it, too? I don't know, that seems kind of crazy. I mean it's crazy enough shouting it but should you literally spray the stupid faces that are making stupid words with bleach? That's quite a bold step, my good sir, and I don't recommend it. But actually yeah you should totally spray their faces with bleach, that's fucking awesome.
What do I do with this now? How can bleach everywhere be followed? Fire. Burn those dumb bitches and run like hell cuz the cops is sure ta be on yo' tail man! You have now completed phase one on your path to becoming a roving serial murderer!
If you're still reading this then obviously you didn't take our advice. What the hell guys; I thought we had a good thing going here. We tell you what to do, you unconditionally follow it, and everyone wins. Don't fuck with that, man, seriously though.
Where hath the time gone. Or rather, the sense. Where hath it fled. Oh meezies oh myzies.
And I guess, that's why you have two buttholes.
Shhhhh,
Us
You shout it like a goddamned wildebeest! BLEACH EVERYWHERE MUTHAFUCKAS!!!
Do you do it, too? I don't know, that seems kind of crazy. I mean it's crazy enough shouting it but should you literally spray the stupid faces that are making stupid words with bleach? That's quite a bold step, my good sir, and I don't recommend it. But actually yeah you should totally spray their faces with bleach, that's fucking awesome.
What do I do with this now? How can bleach everywhere be followed? Fire. Burn those dumb bitches and run like hell cuz the cops is sure ta be on yo' tail man! You have now completed phase one on your path to becoming a roving serial murderer!
If you're still reading this then obviously you didn't take our advice. What the hell guys; I thought we had a good thing going here. We tell you what to do, you unconditionally follow it, and everyone wins. Don't fuck with that, man, seriously though.
Where hath the time gone. Or rather, the sense. Where hath it fled. Oh meezies oh myzies.
And I guess, that's why you have two buttholes.
Shhhhh,
Us
01 November 2012
A Journey of a sort
Ah, so here we meet again. It hasn't been too long, but the pleasure is nonetheless awesome dude.
Let me begin my thought by stating, again, the thought: what's going on, really doe? Can we sort that out? Or perhaps we should rather look at the word "sort" itself - that shit is cray, man! Say sort 50 times. And then think of all the different meanings that this dumb goddamned sound has attained over the years. I mean holygoattits we gotta big 'un hun na' mean.
Whoa. Sitting in this space that I am, people walk by the window of this space and sometimes they know me. Sometimes they even shout to me! It's an insane idea that I can NOT seem to grasp. The sheer audacity! Shouting at a window! You FOOL!
Moving back to the query of what may, in fact, be actually going on, really doe: still lost. Still fuming over "sort". Things do not seem well, in Mordor. Strange things are happening at the Circle K. People's bags of weed are turning into mold over night. The sheer sortness of it all, oy ve. Occasionally it makes me wonder why we go through all this shit anyways. Do we ever understand it? Why things are happening as there? What urges them to continue? Or is life simply a wave that carries us all along the oceans, navigating our bodies up and down but always in one direction? Chill out man, you're rockin' the boat, they may not be ready for it. Alright man, sure, whatever, I'm done.
We're still in this space...And Schmuck is a cocoon now. The insect fuck has totally wrapped himself in his own spit, I can't even imagine, the horror, the oh god you asshole just stop it. And soon he'll be a moth, a big, beautiful, green moth. And now people are in the space ah shit.
H's and maybe a K
ME
Let me begin my thought by stating, again, the thought: what's going on, really doe? Can we sort that out? Or perhaps we should rather look at the word "sort" itself - that shit is cray, man! Say sort 50 times. And then think of all the different meanings that this dumb goddamned sound has attained over the years. I mean holygoattits we gotta big 'un hun na' mean.
Whoa. Sitting in this space that I am, people walk by the window of this space and sometimes they know me. Sometimes they even shout to me! It's an insane idea that I can NOT seem to grasp. The sheer audacity! Shouting at a window! You FOOL!
Moving back to the query of what may, in fact, be actually going on, really doe: still lost. Still fuming over "sort". Things do not seem well, in Mordor. Strange things are happening at the Circle K. People's bags of weed are turning into mold over night. The sheer sortness of it all, oy ve. Occasionally it makes me wonder why we go through all this shit anyways. Do we ever understand it? Why things are happening as there? What urges them to continue? Or is life simply a wave that carries us all along the oceans, navigating our bodies up and down but always in one direction? Chill out man, you're rockin' the boat, they may not be ready for it. Alright man, sure, whatever, I'm done.
We're still in this space...And Schmuck is a cocoon now. The insect fuck has totally wrapped himself in his own spit, I can't even imagine, the horror, the oh god you asshole just stop it. And soon he'll be a moth, a big, beautiful, green moth. And now people are in the space ah shit.
H's and maybe a K
ME
31 October 2012
Why Vinyls Are So Very Delicately Amazing
It's been said thoroughly enough in the title: vinyls are so very delicately amazing, in every way and facet imaginable. The raw crunchiness and sincerity of the sounds that come out of that record player make my ears cum so hard I literally have to change my earmuffs. Here, now that I've grabbed your attention, allow me to foolishly digress to things that are probably related to food.
We got a caterpillar today. I guess we didn't "get" him so much as we "took" him (from his miserable little existence on the shitty bark of some cold ass tree, mind you). And we've shown that fucker a good time. It's been nothing but fine bitches and flowing brews; he's been living like a king in our cut-up Saltines box full of dirt and assorted woodland bits. But even in this sweet-ass pad, the little Schmuck keeps trying to escape. Or, should I say, trying to leave the party early. He's all green and hairy with a brown little creepy ugly face and an X on his ass. He's adorable. We just wanna have a good time with the guy before he goes and becomes a moth (and as a moth the poor guy wouldn't have a mouth) and mates himself to death! Not that that's a bad way to go out, in fact it's one of the best I suppose. If it should come to that. See, my plan is to live forever. So far, so good.
We're leaving bitches, so y'all can peace the fuck ouuuut.
You-know-who-the-guys-the-usual-guys-you-know-who-I'm-talking-about-thoooose-guys
We got a caterpillar today. I guess we didn't "get" him so much as we "took" him (from his miserable little existence on the shitty bark of some cold ass tree, mind you). And we've shown that fucker a good time. It's been nothing but fine bitches and flowing brews; he's been living like a king in our cut-up Saltines box full of dirt and assorted woodland bits. But even in this sweet-ass pad, the little Schmuck keeps trying to escape. Or, should I say, trying to leave the party early. He's all green and hairy with a brown little creepy ugly face and an X on his ass. He's adorable. We just wanna have a good time with the guy before he goes and becomes a moth (and as a moth the poor guy wouldn't have a mouth) and mates himself to death! Not that that's a bad way to go out, in fact it's one of the best I suppose. If it should come to that. See, my plan is to live forever. So far, so good.
We're leaving bitches, so y'all can peace the fuck ouuuut.
You-know-who-the-guys-the-usual-guys-you-know-who-I'm-talking-about-thoooose-guys
26 October 2012
Do I Even Need to Explain Myself?
Do I even have to explain myself. Probably not, and I don't think I'll try. I can't explain anything, really, except make shitty observations about things. Like, "Oh yeah, I'm the first person ever who has seen this one unique fact about this mass-produced pen that I'm looking at right now". It's also like when you wear a monocle out, and people approach you and say, "Why are wearing a monocle?" And all you can think of to say is "'Cause it's fucking awesome, uh, hyuduh." Because you really don't even need to explain yourself, you stupid son of a bitch.
Moving on: so alright, I'll explain a little something: how does thought make sense? Because that means fucked up thoughts make even less sense. Holy shit come on. Thought? Explain yourself please.
You know what I'm thinking? What's next. And I don't know, man.
And this brings us to "Primo Kebab." The true crux of the matter. Does it need to be explained? Maybe we ought to explain what it symbolizes. To us, it symbolizes everything's good, everything's gonna be just fine because we're happy. Primo Kebab is a sock filled with rice and oil that you can heat up and put on your neck; it's sitting on a bench and realizing how much sky there is; it's looking at something and saying "Well, why not? Nothing bad can happen!"
Where to? Where to? Southwest! Take us southwest, captain!
What scares me is the thought of more knowledge. There's so many things to be known. We really don't know anything, when you think about it.
Estamos llegando.
h's & k's
Moving on: so alright, I'll explain a little something: how does thought make sense? Because that means fucked up thoughts make even less sense. Holy shit come on. Thought? Explain yourself please.
You know what I'm thinking? What's next. And I don't know, man.
And this brings us to "Primo Kebab." The true crux of the matter. Does it need to be explained? Maybe we ought to explain what it symbolizes. To us, it symbolizes everything's good, everything's gonna be just fine because we're happy. Primo Kebab is a sock filled with rice and oil that you can heat up and put on your neck; it's sitting on a bench and realizing how much sky there is; it's looking at something and saying "Well, why not? Nothing bad can happen!"
Where to? Where to? Southwest! Take us southwest, captain!
What scares me is the thought of more knowledge. There's so many things to be known. We really don't know anything, when you think about it.
Estamos llegando.
h's & k's
Welcoming Post
Welcome all, to this blog of ours! Come in, don't be shy. We don't smell like urine! At least, we could smell worse.
Why are we who we are?
We are who we are for a number of reasons, not the least of which are our leisure activities. No, we are not actually going to discuss these reasons in this post. We're not an open book! Alright! We're done then.
At this juncture it is relevant to note the sheer dumbness of ourselves and, consequentially, this blog. If you're looking for existential thought or a stimulating read, you have come to the wrong place. However, if you think it's really hilarious for two dumb guys to try to use words and be smart, then this is the place for you, bitches!
H's and K's,
Us
Why are we who we are?
We are who we are for a number of reasons, not the least of which are our leisure activities. No, we are not actually going to discuss these reasons in this post. We're not an open book! Alright! We're done then.
At this juncture it is relevant to note the sheer dumbness of ourselves and, consequentially, this blog. If you're looking for existential thought or a stimulating read, you have come to the wrong place. However, if you think it's really hilarious for two dumb guys to try to use words and be smart, then this is the place for you, bitches!
H's and K's,
Us
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