work...question mark

woke thursday feelin like a million bucks in the lap of luxury that is evan, chris, herm and one other maniacs house. seriously, first awoken at 7 am to a dude in full army gear. he was slamming protein shakes and firing off blank rounds from his 45 in the kitchen at a picture of bin laden. i tried to close my eyes again but the fear tears were not having it. a good hour goes by before i manage to drift off again only for deja vu to startle me back up. next man is dressed like tommy lee jones in under siege, and not the good parts with the stripper and the cake but the scary parts where he is going to use the submarine to destroy life on earth. that was herm and it was about 8 now. fuck. stupid story short, i got up early and showered and finished my half drank sparks from the night before. skated flat ground in the back yard, chain smoked and waited for the ultimate psychopath jt to run 81 miles and chrevan (as i call them) to wake up. finally the four horsemen were up and about and ready for coffee and a drive to the convention center for GaySR. we dragged evan along simply because he is amazing and forgot to care about anything for the last 5 years. dropped him around 9 to do whatever it is that he needed to do by himself at 9 am in downtown san diego and the 3 of us went into the darkness...

this is the ride that jt rented. best. thing. ever. travolta in get shorty had nothing on him. we stickered it up real nice and fuckin rocked it the whole time. hey chris, whatcha doin back there?

once inside the convention center we went our separate ways and i found the mini ramp. but they wouldnt let anyone skate it. sweet set up, that is so ACTION of you sports retailers. lame.

found some babes doing some surf brudda thing or whatever. who knows? lord knows they had no clue why they were there. probably went home with kelly slater the night before and this was one of the conditions of being able to pet his head or some shit.

this was a save titties booth or something similar. being the philanthropist that i am i stopped by to talk about the cause and make up some stories about myself. i think i was the king of england or santa clause at this point.

met the dudes again to discuss world politics and the russian novelists of the 14th century.

took a lunch break from slaving away and met up with lacey on her break and found evan. he had cured the common cold while roaming the city. look how proud he is. handsome to boot.

i am not quite sure how to explain this fellow. his name was julius or romulous or beavis, couldnt tell you. anywho, he was insane. he made all sorts of fucked up claims about all sorts of fucked up junk. i think he was related to mufasa from the lion king, or maybe it was peter pan. either way he was a total kick in the pants good time and drunk as charlie sheen is at the exact moment nobody reads this.

chris is a rep for our buddy matt mattoons wax company so they showed up too. go buy it, it is called Matunas. not to mention if you cannot support someone named matt mattoon then you are a traitor and a comi, end of story.

then like any good adventure i met a local rapper/singer/songwriter/G. this fellow hails from seattle but relocated to diego. his name is culpepper, his album is entitled "town business vol. 1" and his phone number is 206-612-7900 or 206-612-1093. seriously, hit him up!
he cruised up to hustle his record and came with a pretty dope flow. i was impressed but i wanted something on the fly so i asked him to spit 16 about san diego. while i cannot remember what he said exactly i know that he started with three consecutive lines ending in "san diego", "jose canseco" and "muy bueno". i pooped a little in my pants and bought 10 copies.

nyce 1 is repping sf in the sd. niiiiice one!

"no you're beautiful", "no you are"...slap!

if you are keeping count this is bartender number 2 of the trip that wanted me dead. sooo unamused by my rants. peep my lurky friend, so sick.

i know fred, i love it too. can we go home now?

think we worked some more then made it back to laceys downtown. i have NO idea what is going on here. we were playing some board game, it was super sweet.

i sent this to vh1, they said they were done casting this season of "i am the next supermodel" but that they would file it away for next time. i will keep you all posted on that one.

we match. george, remember when i bought that shirt in montana for 33 cents in 2001? ya, i resist change.

ummm? i got nothing here. except i swear i am more handsome than that. promise.

hold still and i promise i wont burn your whole fuckin head off. lights out conor, evan take me home please? thank you. good night world. stay tuned for my birthday where i was even uglier!