Thank you for being a friend.

"Hair may turn gray, your skin may wrinkle, but your never too old for romance. So dont give up girls."

A SOLID GOLD rant:
Friends read everything, even if they dont want to.

**(not mine) First of all, this blog post is a tribute to all of you friends out there across the great green expanse, in your tepees and huts, dorms and slumhouses. There is no better place to feel at home and high than with this blog. You have acknowledged this in the past. Put on your stoner music again, take a break from RPG playing, and stop touching each other..... When you come back from the circus next season, I want to see you around the streets, elementary schools, and video arcades again, mk?


Oui:

If we could be a bit emotional for a second, a rarity for this forum, cause I am crying right now....To be frank, we do not think we have solved the fundamental problems of the internet that this blog set out to correct. We hoped over two years ago, when your faces were still cracked with acne and your crack still facing confiscation, that we could assist your march toward enlightenment and growth toward adulthood outside of stalking and a prosecution leading to a life in prison. Your excercise routine failed for us, (I) am not "jacked" yet, and your motivation to push for a better life was sapped by video games and cheap pornography..

We have failed, which we rarely admit in any sort of manner. Myspace and Youtube remain two blots to which we have been unable to find a cure. Millions of people enjoying stupidity and internet vice have outweighed our attempts and sunk the ship that possibly could bring them to a brighter future. We have sought to correct at least the way you talk about your lack of a social life. Of that we have failed, because we still cannot find social or life anywhere in what you have created.

(**) In the end, after strange and incomprehensable stories and advice and mocking, you men are more emotional and showing it, and still wear more body lotion and hair gells and more colors than most non-lesbian women today. We still are laughing.

Women, your profiles have more nonsense garbage and smileys and meaningless poetry and symbols than the number of fans of the Black Eyed Peas, Jets, and Denver Titans all combined. (I) still want your phone numbers.

Transvestites, your people have been persecuted, chained to the judgemental society that pegs your biological inevitabilities in an unfair and prejudicial way, and your membership comprised more of the two categories above than previously known. We want to be happy that you are content happily away from our social life.

Whitesboro track: You continue to meet and beat expectations, surpassing all the hopes and glories that each Whitesboro-bred child has from the time he was hatched in preppyness and rich bliss: to swing a bat faster than any shotputter, to longjump over the goal on the 23rd yardline, to succeed against all odds, keeping a chipper spirit and a high morale because of your winning not by meddles, victories, or competitations but against the kind of negative spirit that other more equal, African American, superior athlete-infested and underfunded local high schools have, for you take your good works to the ghettos not in Corn Hill, but New Hartford! To be a trackman is to know freedom. And that freedom isnt free, and your spending a little more each day on it at marquee ! Heart of the Gold, Racer in Life runner in soul!

So with all of the gender categories and all the explanations:

All we have done is increased the fanbase for this sight, with little money to show for your viewing. It seems you flock to the absurdity of this site simply because you are used to it, live it and post it on a daily basis.

THE ISSSSUE:

(**) The more (I) see of you folks online, frankly the less I like, and the less I like the more of you folks frankly seeing more of liking online frankly less folks than me.

The world is at the edge of a nunchuck and that nunchuck is there because I wrote a strong word for an unusual Asian? weapon to be threatened with. Our people have become obsessed with internet vice, patrolling the nether regions and the dungeons of myspace, fawning over their artsy pictures of dandelions, and weed, and berries, and overweight beach pictures of a saddened state two years removed and admiring their artificial happiness and realities and ignoring the failure and the mire of their actual lives.

Please stop posting the same videos and songs that everyone else already posted a year ago, or that I dont like because I dont know what a "G-thang is," where this Candy shop is on my beloved older family member, or why you can fault me because my hip hop education stopped with Salt N'Peppa CD 1: The Golden Years.

Questioning What life Used to Be:

(**) Why dont people go outside to the smog anymore? Why dont they drink and drive and fight on the side of the lawyers offering to help them on the radio? Why dont they get busted for less than half an ounce of marijuana and get off because they are white and maybe gay anymore? Why cant we kill Indians anymore and gamble our fortunes away at their REAL native american casinos? Why dont hurricanes and "attacks" stop the internet anymore? Why dont "people" impregnate each other and deny whos the man in the relationship because neither is anymore? Why does abuse and anger now constitute a bad review of a camping picture or a youtube video and not a severe beating or sexual assualt with a deadly weapon, like happened to me in a not so joking or comfortable manner? Why cant the police come back when I am not engaged in creepy outdoor activities anymore? We cant we be rejected by the less than eighteen year old crew in person anymore, rather than being denied friendship because of terrible private profiles on myspace? What is an internet sex crime? Why dont these things happen anymore to more of the wrong people?

Why do you question everything? Why are you so unsure of yourself so that I have to question your questioning to confuse you and allow you to return unconfused to sex and drugs in the wrong way? Why do you write blogs about how you are feeling or what angers you, and what happens if I take the opposite opinion because I was the one who did that thing to you to make you angry, like sleeping with your sister, and I dont want to show my physical anger back at you, I just want to write alot of words and feel better after a whiny modern "rock" song? Since when did society become so internet obsessed that we actually care what the tarded person thinks?

It is time to reaffirm what this blog is committed to, to reaffirm tradition with the past, and acknowledge that if everyone is to have a place on the internet, that if deportation and illegal immigration do not apply to internet users, than this blog will continue to push for the down trodden and denture-needers in a different and perverse way. This blog will stand firm on the side of sexual-angst, hidden and dark thoughts, and that creepy stance that has always sent shivers down your spine. A golden anniversary celebration of hatred for this medium and the polident internet culture that it perpetuates:

I, solemnly swear by the Golden Rules:

1. FOR YOU Lambskins:

(**) I do not, or will not, show my abs or chest hair on myspace. I will not dress in a thong, and I will keep pictures of those girls that do, and are worth it, in a safe and undisclosed location. If I do post any portion of my skin in an unfair way, I swear to personally view 100 geriatric individuals doing the same thing I have unfairly subjected internet researchers to.

(Just had to make a note of that, less because my physique is not up to snuff, (I still hold the record for lifting in his/her weight class, at band camp) but more because you have big nipples and we're offended by the entire solar system created on your body, our cringing moments spent thinking more about the circular sadness of your self-absorbtion and self-sexuality and even less about why we have to look at it when we dont want to or to placate our strange curiousity about the extent of human deformity. I can watch the Hills Have Eyes for that, my friends......)

2. FOR YOU ULTRASENSITIVES IN BLACK:

(**) I will not judge a book by its cover based on pictures on the internet, and I will disregard superficially all those applications of people who do not meet and surpass my desires for the Bulkybobian Race.

The internet is a place for freedom. You all want to be free to do what you want. Well these people freely want you because of what you post. Why deny them what they want? Befriend them too.

I know, of course, you will complete this affirmation. I know you will treat each member of your buddy list, non-top 15 friends on myspace, with an equal amount of your time. So I want to say:

Lets pass laws to stop them from stalking you and you from stalking others. Lets stop the little perfect worlds you all construct on myspace, so that we dont have to suffer through the creative efforts of the ones you probably wouldnt spend two minutes with, without laughing at. I bet they seek revenge on you someday, and the last time it happened they took out a prom king and an entire high school prom because of one bucket of blood. Who hasnt done that before? So why do you dolts have to ruin it for the rest of us?

Lets pass laws about the same stale political satire made with Adobe photoshop and for God's sake, lets bring back voter apathy to the internet. I want my laws written in 12 size font, not pieced together from unfunny pictures, and not Arial size 20 to make it look longer. Lets have Judge Dredd enforce it all!

'I am da law'

3. FOR YOU THAT SCENT YOUSELF WITH FANCY ALBECOR TUNA:

To weed out the weak and the overnourished, let us affirm that you will not write whiny blogs where you emote more than an elderly person with a chronic health problem or argue over issues related to insecurity of the bowels and the lack of vice in your life. Let us never again be forced to read why you broke up with your girlfriend, why she chose me and a number of other guys, why your workplace matters to me, or why this blog has referred to both on a consistent, but more important basis in the past and most likely future.

Also: If you are going to bother with the blog thing on myspace, you stick to it, stout fellow! Write four or more posts everyday. Great writers like Jose Conseco became that way the hard way. If not, how are we going to hold back the excitement when you forget a week or deny us our true existence and reveal what you did after showering. Process your body movements and habits into a boring and scheduled way, detail that to your fan club of five myspace friends, IF you are going to start writing. At least then we can get past the pointlessness of it all and be wastefuly happy knowing you are being consistent in using the large children's letter boxes when you make the "big" words.

4. FOR YOU AT MAI LING'S COMING OUT PARTY

(**) Let us abolish your Poetry
For something is more important to me
If you dont I'll have a go at thee
and on your yard whenceforth my dog will poop and pee.

5. FOR YOU that kissed this pleasure palace goodbye when you stole that money.

Why have we turned as a society to pages and pages of survey, yes'es and nos and who's, or your current status or mood to be displayed by a little blinker, and why do I somehow doubt that everytime it blinks, "getting some," it refers more to the magic potion or the preverbial raping you are getting in an online game, you gameless anti-sexers, than any abilities you might have keeping "some" going on for the pace reflected by the blinking demon. Whole lifetimes of experience simplistically put into a reddish blue Times New Roman font on the New Myspace Editor 2.30, end english accent reading this.

FOR YOU THAT BONGED EVERY FEMALE MEMBER AT THE COUNTRY CLUB:

An Internet Renewal:

The rot is unbearable. For myspace is that rot, you see.

I smell you, sitting there, checking, sneezing, coughing, rotting, looking, clicking, adding many commas, losing the focus of a sentence, and dancing in a sad video to be displayed so that the creepy korean man checking for people just your age and height and location and stated workplace that he plans on visiting can see into your life and perhaps do what comes naturally these days.

I say: What happened to real friendship, based on seeing people and stalking them the old fashion way, like your room last night at showertime? Why cant we act like Biggie and Tupac did in Puffy's sad video, after every breath they took led to each other being gunned down, in a way that everyone care about as much as the death of the Alliyah? Why cant more rival gangstas kill each other so we can have the peace, tears, and vigils afterwards?

We must carve out the rot from the internet. Why care about these dead folks? What happened to a law abiding respect for old people, to dead and dying people, people still somewhat existing, a love for those that does not illegally sanctify relations with those old people beyond the plutonic?

THANK YOU FOR A BEING A FRIEND


What happened to sitting down with each other discussing things, like the process of getting old, playing cards in a foriegn langauge, which is not really foriegn, just your blabberings to a senial person to which the geriatric person understands? Why has internt vice ruined these things for the less than three year old crowd of hipsters?

Why do we laugh when an old person cannot type on a computer screen, recognize the pointer of a mouse, or use the English language invented in 1980, by the founding fathers, in multicolored fonts and abbreviated connotations?

Aging and dying are facts of death, and the sooner the internet becomes more inclusive and less exploitive toward that fact than the sooner internet freedom will be achieved. Cut out the sensationalism, go for sentimentalism! Friendship is the ultimate tool to bring about freedom. Because I value your personal friendships so much, becuase I believe that modern culture and mental tardation are diseases that can be cured by parties and alcohol and real rock and roll, not dressing up shredder and posting videos of your battles with your loser friends on myspace.

I know you value the friendships of those little pictures on myspace, lets take this journey together, as friends, and experience the extremes of internet vice and geriatric vice. Lets see what happens when you exist in a free world of the internet, and yet exclude those who wont be left out!

WHAT YOU MIGHT LIKE:

Sophie is particulary experienced.
This saucy dame is particularly knowledgeful of the gange.
She smokes more than a dozen times a day and thats just her talents with the baking pan.
Her favorite color is blue and white embroidered floral print found on her one piec, all access nightgown.

She poofs her hair and spends over an hour combing and applying the hair loss treament, just to attract the eyes of garcons who want to taste her classic vintage, aged in her cellar.

She goes for the older woman look,actually being 10 years younger than her character child, Dorothy, a one night experiment under the gas powered lights of 1890 Jersey's Red Candlelight District, with a lucky penny for her time, and sheer geriatric crazyness along her lines. Ashamed when her daughter declared herself a lesbian with Blanche, she disbelieved her claims it was just to keep her friend's job and always suspsected that she had pulled a rug out from somewhere. Her late-night trysts never went over well with manly Dorothy or always attentioning Blanche. Too much wine can turn even the craziest elderies into wild love-making machines.

She hopes to attract any lookers, particularly those seeking adventure, bank robbers, beach dweller surfers, and the leftovers from Dorothy latenight trysts. Let Sophie into your home. Let age and experience take you to new levels. Add her to your myspace, read her sexy blogs and watch what she doesnt show on youtube.

THE ELDERLY AND WHOREISHNESS

Now part of me says that we can learn alot from old people, as they are constantly experiencing new things re-enacted a hundred years ago. I say ask them about various sexual topics, what they think of Jenna Jameson, Roseanne Arnold, or Regis and Kelly Rippa. Chances are that they have been through it.





One and only one show allows for aging and dying people to do the dirty like any other functional human being.

In this new world of freedom, how do we prevent the breakdown of basic human relationships. How do we help your girlfriend to bang every girl at the country club? Loyalty, trust, respect, and friendship. None are to be found in sufficient quantities on the internet.

Nobody can talk to babies about world politics, only about similar bowel and digestive issues that both myspace users and babies share in common.

You with your myspaces: You have many friends. Why not invite the Golden Girls into your home? Why cant they do what you do?

I say if we are going to continue down the path of expansion of myspace, let us each promise now to each other under the moonlight starry night, that we will invite at least 60% of geriatric people on our myspaces. That if the internet expands, the world grows closer together, and life become more simplified into survey, that you at least add a hearty helping of geriatrics into your top friends lists. Lets expand myself together along the lines you have created. Lets see grandpa in a speedo. Lets see grandma post nawdy pictures on a comment post to her grandnephew. Lets see what both can do in a wheel chair or what a colostumy bag is used for.
(Why do we have to listen to the Macarena simply because you chose it to load when we chose your myspace to laugh at? I want to listen to Kids Songs or Tupac Shaker and not your pathetic excuse for hip and modern "music.")



The golden girls certianly are golden for a reason, and not for the number of anniversaries they have celebrated or their special brand of shower......

Rose died while in heated passion to her elderly man-lover Charles. In the days before viagra and disgusting internet geriatric pornographic research materials, Rose perfected the artsy Golden style of lovemaking.

Myspace Facts:

She shows her **** on myspace.
She answers approximately 1 friend requests a day. But if those friends are Golden, and youve invited everyone you know, then that card attached would say thank you for being a friend.

THE ELDERLY AND MODERN ISSUES OF EMBARASSMENT:



I promise to continually model these blogs after the sort of work you post out there and continue along this path until you either have earned a degree in English Grammar Arts, fixed immigration problems including a systematic look at the benefits of multisexual education and the downsides and simplicity of the original taco recipe (meat, shell, cheese), and forged a link to an older alien race from the planet Zarkon.

I promise to continually post information about the people in my surroundings, providing scandaluous tidbits about their exploits and lack of sexual intercourse, and continuously mocking them in way that they are forced to read and decode said blogs so that they have to use their brains and question why they clicked on the blog in the first place, thereby initiating a debate in their head over the wasted time on the internet and why wearing the clothes of the opposite sex is invalid in their Mormon upbringing.

THANK YOU FRIENDS,

YOUR FEELING BETTER FRIEND, BULKY BOB.

THE ELDERLY AT PARTY TIME: