Anti abandons the internet.

it's finally over, thank fucking god.

Wednesday, February 12, 2003


when i'm roaming the streets or freeways of HELL A. i barely watch the road in front of me. i start staring in the rear view mirror, a habit i picked up as part of my cop-look-out, so much that when i snap out of it, and focus back on the road, i'm always amazed at how long it's been since i was paying attention. sometimes i'm just doing it to make sure i'm still wining that Lincoln Navigator.

my truck is a filthy mess. a combonation of taco bell, mcdonald's, and jack in the box bags are slowly taking over the passenger seat, with so many random half drranken fast food sodas occupying the drink holder thingies. the worst part is it smells so bad in there that i got a hundred bucks saying there's a dead chimpmunk hidden somewhere, under a taco wrapper or some shit...

and my balls are buggin the shit out of me. they're like forever stuck to one leg or the other. it's like, "damn you balls... do as told!". but the fuckers have a mind of their own.

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Tony Pierce