Larry Diamond

Ever wonder why you've never seen these two smooth characters in the same picture together? Investigative work on cyberdiarreah's part has led to the conclusion that they are in fact the same person: the ultra-smooth character, Larry Diamond. But why the double duty? Because the public just couldn't handle it. That much smoothness from one man would stop traffic, cause riots, start wars. Further research has also uncovered that this loverman has spawned this fellow smooth character: Dustin Diamond (aka Screech)!

up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, a, b, select, start

Played the new XBox 360 on a big screen projector last night at my friend's place. The shit is sick. It makes reality look like 16bit graphics. I think once you log in about 100 hours and you become one with the buttons, when you think with your hands, the shit will be intense. There's something appealing about 2 buttons and a joystick (I got a joystick) that gets you up and playing in 2 seconds, however. Ghosts 'n Goblins and Megadeth! The blond dude in this video is the picture of contentment: intense!http://www.stupidcollege.com/items/Old-School-Nintendo

Cyberdiarreah's "Stairway"

(*Cyberdiarreah- for those with vision problems)

Been listening to Zep's Stairway Sessions. Cool to hear the evolution of THE greatest rock 'n roll song ever. The pinnacle was finally reached when it was karaoke'd by Potbelly (the Ass Wreckers side project) Friday night. You say it's overplayed. I say you haven't listened to it enough.

Twat the night before Christmas

Hola, amigos. The B-ster's got to do a little last minute shopping today. I hate this regimented ordained deadline shit, but it's nice to get gifts. Last night we rocked it out right proper. I learned the best cheers ever. I think it's TakJu?. It means "drink until you die". But, I'm still angry about this one knobslobber who started talking some smack when I was chilling with this chick on the convenience store steps. First of all, the homo starts talking shit to the chick which is a pussy move in any culture. Then, dude won't stop running his mouth so I can enlighten him that he's not really angry at me, but at his own feelings of inadequacy. Whatevs, but then cat starts saying it's "his country". Bro, I got more in common with you than the rich fucks that own your country. Shit, I know it shouldn't bother me, maybe I got some more personal work to do, or maybe I'm just pumped up from listening to Suicidal Tendencie's "Institutionalized", when dude's just sitting around thinking and his mom tells him he's on drugs and then she won't listen and he just wants a Pepsi. Fuck. earthliberationfront.org "It's just a match and a little bit of gasoline" - Ice Cube

Gettin around

What's up my peepz. I must say one of the truly enjoyable aspects of my new living situation- Seoul, Korea, is the proximity of my apartment and job. It is only a five minute walk. I can leave the house 5 minutes before showtime. I can come home on breaks. I don't have to drive. Believe me, after driving or taking the public transit 45 minutes each way back in the Bay, this is a perk I can stand behind. Don't get me wrong, I got no beef with walking around or exploring, but that regimented daily grind behind a trail of douchebags puttin along the highway because some fuckblister in front slammed on his brakes just ain't my idea of gettin out and about. I look to the wise uncle Walt Whitman who praised the walk for walk's sake and I can walk the hell out of some treads just amblin' about. In fact, a project I worked at Arcosanti, arcosanti.org, is attempting to put some action to this idea by creating a prototype city that brings together live and work spaces in 3-dimensional space. One of the ideas of this concept is that a lot of public areas that will not be in constant use will be communal such as recreation and event areas. Now, I'm all for getting together and starting a love train, but this weirdo likes his own space to roam a bit and probably others would like him to also. Which brings us to the proposition that they just ain't makin that much real estate these days. So, what to do but cut down on the numbers encroaching on said turf. There are some theories floating around that 1. mankind's genetic make-up has a built in population regulator, scientists4pr.org- I can jibe with a natural equalizing tendency in organisims but think some effort must be involved- intent being primary force in any operation; 2. that the government is plotting a mass population reduction- educate-yourself.org- I just can't believe that people are this smart; 3. proponents of voluntary population reduction- churchofeuthanasia.org- if you buy this you probably aren't reading this right now; and various other ideas to make less than 1 new one for every current homo sapien. I think the best way is just not to have any more dirty stinky rugrats. Why do you need to pass on your "genes" anyway? Get a dog. Save your money. We can all drive SUV's then.

Unrelated note- Check this webslinger out- . Who hasn't wanted to do this? (The dick between the two nuts.)

Sophomore effort

Hola, amigos. I know it's been awhile since I rapped at ya, but the Bri-guy forgot his password. Besides that I have just been out and about and sleeping. Yesterday some of the homies and I went out for burritos. It had been awhile since I had one and it was a definite staple back in the Oaktown. $3.00 for a burrito as big as your forearm. Somedays I would eat one in the morning and one at night. I was even looking up the Oakland taco trucks on that internet thing. Each one had their own burrito style. There were some corners with like 2 taco trucks on the same corner. Anywho, I was major jonesing for some rolled up goodness and the closest thing I had seen in Seoul was an eggroll, so when a coworker dropped that there was a burrito joint in Sinchon (nearby) I started salivating like I just slathered a jalepeno all over my tongue. We roll out there and my al pastor (that's pork for those of you who don't habla the espanol) burrito was mighty righteous. We bid the proprieter a fond adios and headed over to an ice cream joint across the street. As we're sitting there my boys drop on me that in the bathroom, there is one of those toilets that shoots water up your ass. Being interested in all things that keep effort to a minimal, and pushing a button being less taxing than wiping your keister I was intrigued. I had some questions- how good of a job did it do? what would happen if the machine malfunctioned and water came gushing out in a torrential stream? Could this be the rise of the machines when they had us at our most vulnerable?
Now my bung is on a strict exit-only policy so I was pretty resistant to the idea of my virginal ass being probed by anything more than the occassional mild wedgie. But, I had to admit I was curious. The problem was I had just birthed a mighty heroic food baby before splitting the crib. The Mexican food came to my rescue, however. So, I went to the camode and after taking care of business tried to decide which button did the job. There was an electric keypad with several buttons that seemed more fit for programming robots than squirting some water in someone's ass. Also, the buttons were in Korean and I ain't down with the slang yet. There were two buttons with pictographs on them, however. One of them had what looked like "uu"- a back view of a legless butt with water rushing up towards it from below. The other one had a rather content looking stick chap with water doing it's thing on him. I'm more into simple shit so I chose the former and tried to relax and open my... mind. After pushing the button however a stream of freezing cold water invaded my anal in a way that was just a little too personal. I screamed like a little bitch. Luckily there was music playing in the dining area because people would have come running to kick some mugger's ass. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to jump off because I thought the water would come shooting out of the toilet at me. I sure as shit couldn't take any more of this violation, however. I wasn't sure if the water would turn off on its own and I didn't want to hit any more buttons in fear of it sending it through another cycle. I was in limbo- a cold invasive limbo. Finally, it felt like my brain itself was cold and I just started hitting buttons. One of them turned off the monster. I had water dripping all over from my excessive gyrations on the can. I felt like I needed a cigarette and we went to the bar we found with 1.90 beers and 1.50 tequila. I'm sticking with good ol fashion t.p. on the here on out.

Houston, we have lift off

Random keystrokes generated by random neural impules generated by random dna generated by random carbon by random energy. Yes it is I. The rumpshaker baby maker money taker magnifique (oohh lala) - BigB. But you can call me BigB or Hey You or Money Gone or I'm Already There- especially if there's a shrimp platter- oh I love shrimp platters- I eat that shit like a humpback with a balleen. Hump. This blog is going to be different than all those other blogs because on this blog I'm not going to tell you what color socks I'm wearing today or what I had for breakfast no no no. I'm going for that hard hitting shit, that shit that just might spark off a revolution like nuclear fission, that shit that just might make your granny get up and do the achy-breaky. Yeah that's right I'm talking about belts. Now, ever since the Bronze Age when belts started keeping droopy drawl mo-fo's from introducing the world to Little Thaddeus you've had money belts and spanking belts. So what side are you on? Me, I like a belt, hitching my thumbs, attaching gear like multi-tools, and that satisfying clang of ends departing as I get ready to drop some major deuce. So, what's up out there? Love to hear your thoughts. Don't be shy. This is the information superhighway people, and I am the little diner you stop at at 3 in the morn on your way down the mountain in Tennessee, with a fresh pot of coffee just waiting for you. There are no dumb posts only dumb people. So keep it real and keep it coming.