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.