...or on how the mofo has reached an impass
well the bastard has weathered his own little hurricane last evening as the boy and the elder's children had created their own shitstorm in the rent's house. it almost gives credence to the premise of monster's inc. (yeah i was watching it this morning. it's probably the funniest thing billy crystal has been attached to since when harry met sally) of harnessing children's screams in order to power their monster cities. anyway, after the kid storm blew over, the bastard had moved on to other ponderings. like, "jesus christ! the silver fox slats his buttered bread because he doesn't like salted butter. what kind of crazy shit is that?" and , hey, that's a real great cheesefry". but most importantly, "mother of twelve bastards, there's another hurricane and it's heading right towards the mofo...again. the world hasn't seen this many hurricanes since 1933 and the mofo gets the ringside for the largest season on record. some guys have all the luck. i guess we'll see this again in 10 years when the atlantic is this warm and active again. board the winders, shiteyes.