1. Tuesday, June 17, 2003

    every time i see that picture of christina (below) 

    all i keep singing in my head is that justin timberlake song.

    i want to rock your bod-ay

    please stay.

    once again the devil has invaded the friendly confines of my gray matter and i am victimized in his name.

    clippergirl’s cousin is emailing me asking that i use her real name but nothing in this thing is true, plus if i used her real name then all youd have to do is a quickie little google search and voila find her sisters name in the clipper press guide. so no thanks little girl.

    everyone is talking about getting tanned on the white sand but i just read something in The Week that talks about skin cancer and now im all paranoid.

    they said that we should be careful about laying underneath a sun which is just a huge orgy of nuclear gangbangs going on releasing crazy gas and radiation and our sun tans because its sorta freaking out.

    they said that the whole sun tan thing came when Somebody Chanel stepped off an airplane in like 1930 or some shit and she looked amazing. as if black people havent been naturally looking amazing since the dawn of man. as if latin people havent looked amazing since the day after the dawn. as if every single pale swedish intern who sends me an 8×10 glossy with a resume doesnt look amazing.

    f tans.

    f skin cancer.

    thank God for bronzers and g strings. i love a lot of you people and i want you to hang around a little longer.

    in other news yesterday my man vaine brought over the Zeppelin dvd and blew me away.

    there was no band like Zep before or since.

    im am born again now to that band.

    i will buy a dvd player just because of those discs.

    watch me.

    azarok + malate mail + friendster