music, xanax, halter tops, spring, jackin my dick
i would like to meet the person who just walked out of the room but on the sneak tip id be ready to get it all the way together right in front of his eyes, all cool as a motherfucking cucumber slinking up like jack kerouac on E and a better dresser and id slide to the side, hit the play button on my myfirstsony tape recorder/player, and id watch their eyes get real fucking big dog as the cassette sprang to life, one wheel turning faster than the other (talk to me about THAT) and the voices of all his so called friends oozed out like pus, hard to make out at first but the tape kept playin and his friends kept saying "is he gone?? ok cool. man fuck that nigger i dont even like him or his fucking wanna be bobby trendy slash ghetto thug slash jeans and t shirt slash big sunglass slash shoe deliberatin always concentratin pussy fermentatin drug adddict piece of shit lyin ass leather coat wearin nigga. fuck him. fuck that moral terpitude is overrated and underwavy anyway." and then i yelled april fools and went to lay down cause i wasnt feelin so well.
electro hood shit and old freestyle jams
up in smoke, the last goodbye, fast times at ridemont high, less than zero, man on the moon, firestarter, etc
magnum pi (for tips on picking up chicks)
DSMIV
todd bridges, corey feldman, winona ryder, bud dwyer and anyone one else that knows how to fucking party, motherfucker