with the monopoly money millionaires getting our $88 billion record deal and poppin multiple caps in the collective ass of midgets with attitudes, i've lost sight of what this page was originaly about: me being a total nonsensical dumbass. so let's take a break from my rap related fame and fortune to once again dive into the depths of my wandering concious...

when mike and i were in 7th grade or so we used to spend every day down at the creek. we'd go to the gas station and get rolos, beef sticks, and mountain dew and then claw our way through this big gnarly field and hang out under this canopy of trees chillin around the river. i don't really remember us ever doing anything except walking around and, of course, the "great leap of faith of '94."

we were walkin along the banks probably singing nirvana songs or something when my foot sank into some particularly deep mud. facinated with this sudden change of depth, we checked to see how deep it was. a couple feet at the most...but it still provided interesting possibilities. we clawed at some roots for a while and made our way up the 10 or 11 foot high bank and stood at the top. we decided jumping from this height into the mud would definately be a good idea. the only problem was the remarkebly high levels of chicken shit residing in our yellow bellies. we argued for quite some time over who should be the one to go first and that, of course, didn't solve anything. so we decided to go at the same time. now, as everyone knows, getting two 13 year old boys to do something dangerous at the exact same time out of trust is like trying to get a chicken to suck your dick...with a little sweet talk and alot of booze it'll happen, but if you go for the gusto right right off the bat, yer liable to lose a nut or two. so we sat there counting down quite a few times and balking a jump trying to get the other to fall to his potential doom/muddy mirth. finally, after god knows how long of this, we put our arms around eachothers necks and yelled "i can fly!" and tumbled forwards. we fell and hit the mud with a noise that brought so much joy that it would only be conquered many years later by the sound of our nuts slapping on girlies' chins...but even that's disputable. so we spent the next hour or so climbing up the bank and jumping in the mud yelling phrases from the movie "hook" which is really odd cuz i don't recall either of us liking that movie all that much. anyway, we walked the couple miles home completely covered from head to toe with thick caked mud as passing motorists (some probably mud enthusiasts themselves) honked their horns in appreciation of our pollitical statement.

now, you know that phrase "you can't go home again?" haha...fuck that.

at the end of 8th grade i moved to las vegas and left mikey and the river far behind. we kept in spuratic contact and when i was 17 or so, my family took a trip back to iowa. i called mike, he came and picked me up, and we started kickin ass and takin names junior-high style. of course i went and suprised some old friends and whatnot and that was all well and good but one day out of boredom we ended up down at our river. we didn't have rolos or beef sticks or mountain dew but we did have camel lights and damnit, it was a new era. we found the spot where the great leap of faith of 94 had occurred and stared at it for a little while. i don't recall even saying anything to eachother...we just fucking jumped. now we had grown a little bit in the last 4 or 5 years and the river had shrunk a bit. we didn't take this into account. long story short, it hurt but nothing broke. so once again covered in mud but this time juniors in high school, we walked down the street to not quite as great of fanfare as the first time. our matches were soaked but the smokes were dry so we had a problem. we walked into the pizza shop where our friend sunne worked and we were greeted with wide unbelieving eyes by sunne, he co-workers, and her boss. she yelled "what are you guys doing?!?!" covered in mud with cigarettes hanging out our mouths, we said "we need a lighter." we were provided with one and asked quite nicely to leave. that was a damn good day.

i think it's comin up on the 4 year mark again. time for a road trip me thinks...hey mike....cock a doodle what? midget, please.

rock the parcel.

uh huh.

word.