My Name Is Chip... Playlistos Septiembre Veinteséptimo

So yeah, been thinking about making a post on an unnervingly recurring thread in most of my favorite songs, or maybe its that I always seem to be messed up when I listen to music.

I'm now going to classify some of my favorite songs by the drugs they remind me of.

COCAINE (or sniff sniff sniff music)

HEROIN (or music to slap a vein to)

 

MARIJUANA (or Tetrahydrocannabinollapalooza )

ALCOHOL (or "fuck you, I'm a dragon" juice... music)

ANTIDEPRESSANTS (or oh my god, everything's dandy)

OFF ANTIDEPRESSANTS (or oh my god, everything's shitty)

As always, you're very welcome.

Big Mike.

Ha, just realized my pants aren't on...Playlist 10-3-11

Been listening to a lot more music lately, which is saying something, because that's pretty much what I do all the time. That and drink, but I don't dun do dat no mo. I sure want to though. I may cave and buy some hard cider in a couple of hours. Only time will tell. That is, if I can find my pants.

But alas, some music penises for your ear vagina (or butt, I don't judge)











~Xavier R.

OMFG R.E.M. broke up.

R.E.M. broke up!

Didn't they write that one song? I just found out, in the form of a joke about a guy losing his virginity, during a Conan O'Brien skit.

Anyways, I didn't have enough booze left to go to happy land. Just enough to make it to alright land.

Population: me and my annoying cats.

~Xavier R.

Drunken Hugs

I normally do not like hugging. However when I've been, well, you know. I tend to, well, you know. Then I feel gross. Not in the weird "eww, germs" sort of way, but a "hugging is for puppies and old ladies" sort of way. It's similar to the notion of crying being for little girls and drug addicts. You may know me, personally. You may think "I've seen you hug plenty of times!" Well, that would coincide with a rhetoric of me being drunk, plenty of times.

I have this special thing in my brain, called Notlikeeveryoneelseitis. The prescription from the huggle doctor was lots of hugs growing up, to prevent my Notlikeeveryoneelseitis from turning into sociopathy. Well, it is my staunch belief that I had an allergic reaction to the hugs, and I was stricken sociopathy anyways. Well, minus the occasional violence or people disregard. Maybe that's a whole other thing, then. You know what? Tits, lulz.Moving on.

A couple ughs

UGH #1 You know when you're overweight, and somehow your subconscience keeps constructing a universe around you that disallows change, or lets you be OK with your unhealthy self because it want's to keep you safe, seeing how change is dangerous, and happiness is key in connection with that? Take for example, starting to run again, then not being able to because of an ankle injury, which could heal if you didn't work on it 8-12 hours a day? Yeah, me either.

UGH #2 Hipsters. That use to be just a way to describe someone, but now its an entire thing. You know? Like, being mainstream is so lame. You know what else is mainstream? Breathing. So stop it, so us conformists can have it all to ourselves. Speaking of which, some months ago, I was at this music festival, and whilst in line for entrance, I overheard

"Yeah, but to truly be a hipster, you can't BE a hipster." In this retarded, foux upper class sort of snide accent. This was one of the very rare cases of me coming close to using violence against someone for not doing anything to me. *Glare sans ensuing strangulation*

Anyways, I'm not so good with goodbyes.

~Xavier R.

What's wrong with some color in your family tree...9-25-11

It's a fuck up world. Or, perhaps, the world isn't fucked up. Maybe we need to judge our levels of our social gauging. Calm down, everyone. All we want is peace and love, blah blah blah.

My Step Dad's girlfriend makes delicious biscuits. Not slang for vagina, I mean really. Delicious biscuits.

But yeah, the daily thing;











Do you see trees? I see them, too. Anyways, enjoy.

~Xavier R.

Is it solipsism in here, or is it just me...Playlist 9-24-11

Firstly, when your diet consists of Thai food and alcohol, wavering from such causes problems. Or solutions. Not really sure anymore. It puts the lotion on the skin or else it gets masturbatory musing from the upper echelons of the nobodies again.

Secondly, Bike Mike as inspired/convinced/cattle prodded  me into starting one of my horror stories that I've had swimming around in that depraved genius lump of goo of mine known as a brain. I may or may not put up snippets or entire chapters. We'll see how I feel.

Lastly, I've come to learn (already know) that orgasms aren't that great unless they're on someone else's face. Fact.

Behold, your playlist;











Best heard when loud, whilst naked, and with friends.

~Xavier R.

Why you should consider me for upper management.

"You sure? Are you absolutely sure?" said my rival Steven, looking really really stupid in a full hazmat suit.

"Yes!" I declare.

"You're sure your fridge is demonically possessed... because of the light?" He says with that incredulous tone he knows I hate so much.

"Yes, goddamnit! Yes!" I exclaim. "The light stays on until I open it! If that's not demonic in nature I do not know what is!"

"You sure? Like positive?" having taken off the top half of his hazard suit revealing the reverend collar he was straightening on the shirt underneath it. "You know if this shit is alien, You're gonna just have to admit you don't have any real crazy devil shit go on here. We'll have to revoke your membership to the Guild of Darkness. Put you back with those trekkies down on fifth."

"Fuck you and go check my fucking fridge" I snapped, losing my composure only temporarily.

"Okay! Okay man!" I could tell he didn't trust me. He had his reverend shirt and collar, his holy water and his cross shaped axe, sure, but he had also had his hazardous materials jumpsuit on. Tied at the waist. "But lemme warn ya, I've danced with many a haunted fridge, and this shit just aint haunted." He sneered, "It's fuckin' aliens"

He swung open the fridge door after giving his a-rhythmic knock signature onto the fridge door. It's how all full fledged Darkness Guilders access the otherworld. I've been in training for the guild of darkness for 9 months. Anyone who has any potential to be in the guild have to take an entrance exam, those who dont are in the fifth floor "Paranormal Activities Research Dept", those who fail the test gets sent back there indefinitely.

Forever known as a "Repard" or just simply "Trekkies," as Steven likes to put it.

"Just check the fridge, alright?" I was losing patience.

Steven opened the door and much to my vindication a furry rancid smelling beast whos face occupied the entire length and breadth of the fridge opening. It had huge sharp teeth and what seemed to be thousands of eyes, none of them fishlike.

A demon for sure!

"Now to the untrained eye" explained Steven, obviously sweating "This MAY SEEM Demonic in nature..."

"Just fucking call it asshole, it's got demonic written all over it" I snapped letting my victory wash over me.

"It's a goddamn hologram, you little pissant. I'll prove it!" Snapping his arm into the fridge.

The creatures teeth all turned into the blades of serrated K-bar knives, most of them now all but severing Steven's forearm from his elbow.

"Okay, I believe you. Now get me out of here... please"

"Not until you sign me over your corner office and reserved parking to me"

"Bastard! You drive a hard bargain!" He laughed heartily from his gut as he signed my shrewdly printed out terms.

Not only had I commanded a situation in a way that would benefit myself and career, but I had also commanded the respect from a more experienced Co-Worker.

Please evaluate my service to this great Guild in your selecting for Co-Chair of Darkness.

For Your Consideration,

Big Mike.

PLAYLIST NINE-TWENTYTWO-ELEVEN

Prepare to be brutalized











Thank you Satan for Bandcamp

Shitting in Mitsubishis

In 2024, scientists developed a collar like device feeding off the brainwaves of mammals and translates the signals phonetically into words and phrases

In 2033, the first commercial passenger aircraft piloted by a chimpanzee made a safe landing.

In 2045, there are no flying cars, but a population of millions of chimpanzees now hold jobs, read at a college reading level and have the right to buy alcohol and cigarettes.

 ***

"Look! I'm a fucking seal! ARF! ARF! ARF!" Screamed my roommate Reggie, atop our neighbors highly modified '35 Mitsubishi Skyline. Don't get me wrong, I hated this stupid car too: It had a ridiculously huge spoiler, it's tires were too damn big, it had tinted windows, it had spinning rims and this stupid paint job that would change colors depending on what angle you were looking at it. But still, Reggie was over reacting.

Besides, he didn't look like a seal, he looked like a pissed off chimp with a fire axe.

"Wait! Reggie! Don't do it!" I screamed to no avail. He was already in the middle of a swing.

"You..." He cut a neat 6 inch gash into the roof "Should've..." another blow to roof "Bought..." destroying the vents at the rear windshield "American..." a side mirror, gone "You..." A gash in the passenger door "Zitty..." the passenger window "Faced..." the windshield, shattering into a million little pieces. "COCKSMOKER!" screamed my roommate as he laughed maniacally and crawled right through the hole he made in the front of the car.

I went back inside the apartment, I didn't want to witness what happened next, not the ugly confrontation Reggie had with the zitty neighbor kid nor the fist fight which followed. Not even the the chimpanzee sized shit he would leave on the driver's seat.

Reggie came into the house with a cigarette between his lips. He was bruised up but he was grinning triumphantly as he laid a roll of twenties on the table. "I fleeced him for everything he had"

I gave Reggie that look I always give when he feels invincible. Beating the shit out of a human could slide, property damage would get him put down for sure.

"I wouldn't worry about it" Reggie pulled out a magazine from the back of his pants, a copy of human pride. "He's a Human Supremacist, he'd never admit to having his ass beat by a monkey. I mean, you read this shit? 'Monkies stealing human jobs'? 'Monkies suck off welfare teat'? 'Southern belle gang raped by monkies'? You would think that humans didn't have the largest outwards genitalia in the ape family."

"You never know, That southern belle might've only be being 'raped' because her daddy found out"

"Man, that's really tasteless" laughed Reggie, "This coming from the chimp who shits in Mitsubishis"



Fuck Mitsubishi,
Big Mike.

I like my women like I like my coffee...

Ground up and put in the freezer.

Ah! Ah! Aaah!

You're fucking swine, seriously.

Big Mike.