Anti abandons the internet.

it's finally over, thank fucking god.

Saturday, May 29, 2004

 
adelanto must be mexican for trashcan.

it's hard to manage anything sign related when there's garbage smacking you upside the head. was that a bag of doritos?

the liquer store ladies knew me and whitey were outta-towners within five seconds. niice.thinking i belonged there would have been a diss.

there was also some scary ass church group thing at the burger king when we had breakfast. it was basically a terrible day to be without my camera. sucks for you. all i can say is, a fanny pack worn under an old man's mantits.

me and whitey are doing a great job despite the hellish factors involved with this sign job:
overly needy clients
impossibly far geograghy, with regards to sign walker dop off and pick up.(it takes me about an hour versus the normal 10 minutes.)
desert hell winds

but fuck the sign job, cuz it's just what i use to fill my mind with things other than what bothers me.

good old workohol. watch as i drown my sorrows.

but what sorrows do i have? i derno. none i guess.

i'm basically a sef-funded, babe-magnet... who lives in paradise.

but i derno. cuz big tanky pointed out how this one dude's uber-confidence was totally fake. and i kinda said, "so what? prolly most confidence is faked..." and then i went off on a tangent about how only the most fugly assholes have true confidence (in general) and all us nutcases who are actually easy on the eyes have serious self esteem issues, and ugh.

i had a few beers, so try and keep up, if you can...

if i had to choose right now between crashing into a huge ball of flames or going to work tomorrow... believe me it would be an awesome fire show.

i wish mine and white's small stoner minds could remember a fraction of the hilarious stuff we say to eachother all day. you have NO idea.

in news that has no relevance.... there is a splinter inbedded in my palm. the one on my left hand, man...
and i have tried to do home-style surgery on my hand with tweezers and a dim light, but...
it's in deep now, some kinda calous fucker has taken over. i hope i don't get SARS.

so then whitey was all, "dude..." and i was like, "dude?" and he was all, "duuuuuuuuuude!" and i was all, "nah, dude..." and he said, "aiight..."
but then again, him and i have that conversation like ten million times a day. and we still have no idea what each other is talking about.






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Tony Pierce