wh-wh-wh-whoa.

yea, so i was talking to erin last night at denny's and she started telling me how theres this show on tv now called "cheaters" or some shit and evidently what happens is if you think yer significant other is being unfaithful to you, you call this show and they have detectives with cameras n shit follow your aforementioned loved one around for like a week or something and then you both go on the show and you confront them with undercover video of their infedelity. she said that she's gonna have some dood say he's her boyfriend and get these folks to follow her around. then, once she knows she is being followed, she is going to make out in public with like every guy she's ever known. she's gonna be quasi-intimate with dogs/cats/badgers etc. and also with quite a few inanimate objects i.e. lamp posts, bed posts, mailboxes, fire hydrents, trees, you get the picture. we sat around and brainstormed for a while aboots all the various things she could get it on with so that when they played the tape with her there in the studio and her fake boyfriend is screaming and crying, she could sit and smile knowing that a good chunk of america thinks she's the freaky-deakiest slut in the world. then somehow we started talking about scat-films and g.g. allin and basically anything revolting and some nice old ladies sat down next to us and we decided to leave and that was the most exciting thing that happened to me all day and there's nothing wrong with that for one damned second.

oh yes, here's a new mad flow for endless mike and the m.w.a. to suck on as soon as they take my dick out they mouths:

the name is reverend toast and i rock the parcel

you never see me so drunk that i fall off the barstool

i can hold my fuckin liquor - get kackled by the ticker

and if you see me weavin baskets you can be sure that they wicker

all my boys they call me "enrique"

i'm just kiddin tho cuz they don't really

but if they did it would be cool cuz they're my muthafukkin boys

but theres no reason cuz i'm danish so whatever fuck that noise

rock the parcel.

uh huh.

word.