scott's really a sincerly great
guy.granted he's a jerk,but he's the
only one that can truly appreciate my
castanette playing and dancing at 9:00
a.m. on a sunday morning.he will also
gladly rock out to sabbath in his truck
with you in your driveway at 4 in the
morning and drink beer with you until
dawn.that's all a-okay in my book.then
again my book in a paperback.
I love Scott. When the aliens come for
us only he will have the hidden power
to save mankind. It is a heavy burden
and he accepted it with grace. Not all
men can save our species, he will
though. Yes, he will.
This is punk rock skateboarding. This
is knees bent steady cruising with
hands behind the back. This is slashing
down trash cans in dirty alleys. This
is a firm hold on nose and tail
to "yank-hop" up curbs/ over dogs.This
is layback everything. This is Alvarez.
you wanna know somebody? know this guy.
as true a friend as there ever was. up
or down, he has always been there.
fucking amazing. if anyone had to hit
me in the back of the head with a
stool, i'm glad it was him. shit,
man....
Images of me being serenaded to in the
form of "Anti-Nowhere League" songs
verbatim in the middle of a high school
math class, head in my hand, shifting
with annoyance, hearing it only grow
louder as I become more visually
agitated, was a formal introduction. I
thought I hated him, but soon realized
his hagridden way to be only a test put
upon friends. A button pusher. We
successfully graduated from "problem
drinker" to "managing alcoholic" hand
in hand. Known to mistake me for a
beautiful women while I play lifeguard,
holding his head up over the toilet;
flattered. Skate-rat, musical
historian, professional artist,
lover/fighter, fellow neer do well,
blood brother ('member that?), and flat-
footed. Inventor of "K.E.N. Mode" (Kill
Everyone Now), yet seems to be over it
as of late. Held the great honor of
opening up for Mojo Nixon. We witnessed
Man Is The Bastard and Toots And The
Maytals in two different states in the
same day. Helped him move everything
into my house, and then back out in a
period of two days. On a boozing trip
to New Orleans earned the title "King
Zealot", when refusing to believe the
showgirl was just doing her job, as he
searched for the stripclub we were at
hours earlier, recognizing "that look
in her eye". Later that night refused
to let me drive my own car home, as he
brandished the wheel with one hand,
more beer in the other, 3:00am at
85mph, K.E.N. mode full swing, as I
scream into the wind, frightened. I
love him brotherly, yet he continues to
serenade
let's drive the '74 orange volvo
backwards through concrete posts.how
could it not be a good idea?the same
volvo top speeds through the woods.of
course it's a good idea.let's attack
the mob of rednecks with a hockey stick
and a football helmet and then try to
skimboard across my pool.good ideas all.
flat broke folk,
happy hour is
get awesome!
time.
guy.granted he's a jerk,but he's the
only one that can truly appreciate my
castanette playing and dancing at 9:00
a.m. on a sunday morning.he will also
gladly rock out to sabbath in his truck
with you in your driveway at 4 in the
morning and drink beer with you until
dawn.that's all a-okay in my book.then
again my book in a paperback.
us only he will have the hidden power
to save mankind. It is a heavy burden
and he accepted it with grace. Not all
men can save our species, he will
though. Yes, he will.
is knees bent steady cruising with
hands behind the back. This is slashing
down trash cans in dirty alleys. This
is a firm hold on nose and tail
to "yank-hop" up curbs/ over dogs.This
is layback everything. This is Alvarez.
as true a friend as there ever was. up
or down, he has always been there.
fucking amazing. if anyone had to hit
me in the back of the head with a
stool, i'm glad it was him. shit,
man....
form of "Anti-Nowhere League" songs
verbatim in the middle of a high school
math class, head in my hand, shifting
with annoyance, hearing it only grow
louder as I become more visually
agitated, was a formal introduction. I
thought I hated him, but soon realized
his hagridden way to be only a test put
upon friends. A button pusher. We
successfully graduated from "problem
drinker" to "managing alcoholic" hand
in hand. Known to mistake me for a
beautiful women while I play lifeguard,
holding his head up over the toilet;
flattered. Skate-rat, musical
historian, professional artist,
lover/fighter, fellow neer do well,
blood brother ('member that?), and flat-
footed. Inventor of "K.E.N. Mode" (Kill
Everyone Now), yet seems to be over it
as of late. Held the great honor of
opening up for Mojo Nixon. We witnessed
Man Is The Bastard and Toots And The
Maytals in two different states in the
same day. Helped him move everything
into my house, and then back out in a
period of two days. On a boozing trip
to New Orleans earned the title "King
Zealot", when refusing to believe the
showgirl was just doing her job, as he
searched for the stripclub we were at
hours earlier, recognizing "that look
in her eye". Later that night refused
to let me drive my own car home, as he
brandished the wheel with one hand,
more beer in the other, 3:00am at
85mph, K.E.N. mode full swing, as I
scream into the wind, frightened. I
love him brotherly, yet he continues to
serenade
situation and they're always good.
backwards through concrete posts.how
could it not be a good idea?the same
volvo top speeds through the woods.of
course it's a good idea.let's attack
the mob of rednecks with a hockey stick
and a football helmet and then try to
skimboard across my pool.good ideas all.