EDITED IN SECRET BY THE GOVERNMENT

that's right. so last night i took my camera out for a ride. i drank the booze. i hung around with ol' victor. (i already mentioned his brown ass in the last blog.) and i was talking about a new feature on my camera. The Porthole Feature. So tonight i post the images of what i told you i had discovered. they're there. Because that's how i do it. That's how i roll.

you know what i had to do when i woke up at 7 this morning? i had to do some editing. I mean, i love tequila, but it has a way of making me want to say what's REALLY on my mind. And after taking a moment to consider what was on my mind MINUS tequila, i thought it might be a better idea to keep those thoughts more internal, you know, until i have the opportunity to strike like a cobra. Cobra Strike! fffffsssss!!!!



but, i will admit, there was some venom in my voice last night. I wonder if it's possible that this could make me into an angry old man one day. You know? keeping it inside, waiting for the opportunity to strike like the cobra. the Cobra Strike!!! ffffssssss!!!! (insert mental image of a fist shaped like a cobra at the end of my arm, rapidly striking toward your point of view, "Cobra Strike!!! Ffffsssss!!!!!")

However, those of you who were lucky enough to read this post before i changed it around, Wow. you got a glimpse of something there. You saw The Monster. You FELT the rumble in the jungle. I only wonder how much longer i can stay reserved and tame the beast?! HA HA HA HAHAHAAA!!!!!

anyhoodle, the images up here today are what i was telling you about, you know, that porthole feature i discovered on my camera, and then just some random shots i took in this apartment over by the old haunt at E19. Have a peaksie poo, and also take some time to wonder if anything will ever really happen with this george bush guy, or if it's all just enough hot air to keep people's appetites wet until he leaves office with grace and dignity one day, and goes on to have his fucking head put on a coin or something. Maybe he could replace that indian chick on the dollar that looks like a quarter, except they'll make the dollar look like a dollar, because when you get down to it, george w bush means more by the way of a dollar than some dead indian chick.

Oh my. God Bless America. We do it so right.

dTown listening to Jill Scott sunny and 32˚ JESUS with the weather already. Seriously. up and down like a friggin' yo-yo. About to wash down some Zoloft with a healthy swig of dayquil.