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Inner Circle - Bad Boys.mp3 (IE users: right-click, 'save target as' to download) Bad boys Whatcha want, watcha want Whatcha gonna do When sheriff John Brown come for you Tell me Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna dooo Yeaheah CHORUS: Bad boys, bad boys Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do When they come for you (Repeat) When you were eight And you had bad traits You go to school And learn the golden rule So why are you Acting like a bloody fool If you get hot You must get cool CHORUS You chuck it on that one You chuck it on this one You chuck it on your mother and You chuck it on your father You chuck it on your brother and You chuck it on your sister You chuck it on that one and You chuck it on me CHORUS (Repeat) Nobody naw give you no break Police naw give you no break Soldier naw give you no break Not even you idren naw give you no break Hehe CHORUS (Repeat) Why did you have to act so mean Don't you know you're human being Born of a mother with the love of a father Reflections come and reflections go I know sometimes you want to let go Hehehe I know sometimes you want to let go Bad boys, bad boys Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do When they come for you (Repeat) (You're too bad, you're too rude) (You're too bad, you're too rude) Bad boys, bad boys Whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do When they come for you (Repeat) (Repeat) You chuck it on that one You chuck it on this one You chuck it on your mother and You chuck it on your father You chuck it on your brother and You chuck it on your sister You chuck it on that one and You chuck it on me CHORUS (repeat 'til the end)  Seeing as no work has come my way (and doesn't appear to any time soon), I have decided that I will probably move to the upstairs of my house in the near future. This is a move that I should have made long ago, but for some reason (laziness) I never seriously considered it. I will have the whole upstairs to myself, including a small bedroom, a bathroom, and an open hallway-type area that I plan to make a lounge space. There's a shitload of work that needs to be done though, included painting and getting rid of the massive piles of junk that my family has stored up there. Good news, however, is that my neighbors, who are moving out of their house next door, abandoned a nice sized TV yesterday, and it was exactly what I had in mind for the lounge. After lugging the thing inside with my friend Kyle, I realized the TV was much bigger than I had thought, but it seems to work well, and if I can actually get it upstairs, it will be a nice addition to my new 'cat lair.' Does anyone else watch the show COPS anymore? I've recently decided that this is the best show on television. Ever. And since it's on for a solid hour everyday, my life is just THAT much more exciting.  I had the pleasure of sitting on my ass tonight ... house to myself ... no phone calls or visitors. To the normal person, that might mean boredom. For me ... luxury and relaxation. I spent most of the night playing poker online, amd I am happy to say that I am slowly winning back the $20 I lost before I went to the Shore. My dinners consisted of 2 microwavable meals, 2 hot dogs, and some ice cream. I watched every inning of the God-awful Phillies game, and I sent a phone-text message to a friend who recently moved out to California. It's been a great night. My gambling luck wasn't so bad in Atlantic City this time. In the end, I was up about $200, about a hundred less than it would have been if I hadn't screwed myself on some slot machines that I didn't know how to work. I was too afraid to try my luck with the big poker players, so all my practice online has basically been pointless. The roulette table was my primary source of income for the 5 days, and I was quite proud of myself for finally "mastering" it. Special thanks to the numbers 13, 25, and, as always, 22. Speaking of 22, Amie and I celebrated our 5th anniversary on July 22nd. I treated her to a very fine dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in Bally's, for which we both dressed up like little rich kids pretending to be high-rolling honeymoooners, and after which we got locked out of our room and were forced to walk around the casino for 2 hours waiting for my mother to fix the problem. Since Amie is 20, we had to sneak her onto the casino floors illegally, which worked until the final night. I had just won a fair amount of money on the roulette table when a security guard popped out of nowhere and carded her. When she said she had no ID on her, the guard escorted her out. Then she was handcuffed and held in a private room on the 5th floor until the Atlantic City police arrived to give her a traumatizing-yet considerably mild-warning. Well...minus the handcuffing part...and everything after. Pictures soon, maybe. Yep. It happened. www.Pacificpoker.com. Real money. I haven't been doing so bad really. I would usually be up about a dollar or two by the end of each day, which isn't much, but considering I have no other income, it was fine with me. Then, of course, Amie dared me last night to play in a room with higher stakes, and sure enough I lost about 20 bucks in just a few minutes. I'm on a bit of a losing streak right now, but such is my life. I'll let you know when I'm a millionaire. I am getting way too close to playing poker in online casinos. WAY too close. It could be my destruction. Anyway...off to Atlantic City next week. I'll sneak as many pics as I can without getting kicked out. Some new job prospects have headed my way, for those of you who give a shit. I have an interview at a particularly boring magazine in Horsham, PA tomorrow. I'd probably take the job if they offered, but again I think they just like the idea of interviewing a college grad who doesn't require a high salary. The position asks for a lot more experience than I really have. The other job opening involves--once again--my friends at Montgomery Newspapers, where I have been writing for the past year. This job would probably pay crap, but I think I have a good chance of getting it. Not too much happening. The radio still sucks. I have no hope for it in this decade. That reminds me! I had a very strange, albeit uninteresting (and unintoxicated) revelation the other day. I have been alive now for what-- almost 23 years. I can remember things for about 20 of those years. I have fairly vivid memories of 1983 and after. I think to myself: the 80s are obviously different from the year 2000 and after, but not THAT much different really, because, of course, I can remember it. But the 80's to the 00's weren't as different as say, the 60's to the 80's. But aha! There you go! Only 20 years passed from the 60's to the 80's. Obvisous, I know. But this give me hope that our culture might actually radically change again in the near future in just as short of a time period. But do you see what I am saying? Imagine being 23 in the year 1983. What would the 60's seem like at that point? Eh, I don't know if I even fully understand what I am saying. But I know that American culture (which is becoming more the world's culture all the time) sucks right now. Music, TV, movies, attitudes toward anything significant. It all sucks, and I know it's not because I'm just getting older. At the same time though, time itself continues to get shorter and faster every year I get older. I don't know if I like that. I bought my first lottery ticket last night ... in fact, I bought 20 of them. Unfortunately, the $260 million Powerball Jackpot was won by 2 lucky mofos, niether of which was me. In other words, I didn't win. In other words, I lost. In other words, the money isn't mine. To put it another way, I am not rich. In other words, I am still sitting here, broke. In other words, I'm still out of work and doing nothing. In other words, your mom. Here's a handy chart that--although amusing--would probably not have any effect on my purchase of lottery tickets in the future:  The trashmen in my township aren't just trashmen. They're artists. Every week for the past 8 years or so, the trashmen have positioned our trachcans in a different structure, order, or masterpiece. Not only is their work delightful to find in the morning, but also it is superb. They put the 'fu' in fun. I think I will soon start a gallery of pics to display their work, so stay tuned. Does anyone remember trashmen giving out tennis balls years ago? They always seemed to have so many, and if I was outside with some neighborhood kids when they went by, the trashmen would shower us with used tennis balls and we would be the happiest kids in the world without every wondering where those tennis balls came from. I visited Amie's family in Chestertown, Maryland for the fourth of July. Apperently everyone else had decided to do the same thing, so Amie and I were forced to sleep outside in a tent because there was no room in the house. Sometime around 4 a.m. when I tripped through the dark to find a spot to go to the bathroom, I realized it was the first time I had slept in a tent. Once or twice, when I was probably 7 years old, I tried to sleep in a tent in the backyard, but I was too freaked out. Around that same time I had a nightmare that I had walked outside my house and opened a tent in my backyard to find a live, moving skeleton looking at me. In the dream I screamed as loud as a 7 year old could, and I woke up wondering if I had screamed aloud in my sleep.  
  My brief comments on the July 1, 2003 post at C'est non un blog:  Played some baseball today, shortly after I blew out my computer monitor. My part-time job ends on Monday. Back to world of nothingness. Thank God for Wimbledon and the Phillies. 11:01 AM Amie and I were sent to South Street in Philadelphia to change pricetags yesterday, and I realized that I hadn't been there since 11th grade. Back in the day, my friends would go down to South Street for the sole purpose of buying Nitrous Whippits and "tobacco accessories." The first time I ever did nitrous, I fell to the ground, laughed histerically; my voice sounded like James Earl Jones, and then it was all over 30 seconds later. A strange drug, Nitrous is. Now that I think about it, that first time was at Woodlawn Park / Elementary, which many of you know as a landmark for street basketball, stickball, and growing up in the town of Willow Grove. I didn't spend a lot of time in that neighborhood when I was younger, but I'm fairly sure that my older sisters attended the school when they were young. For a while, after the school closed, it was run by the Navy, as an office, I suppose, for the nearby Naval Air Base. Now the school is run by some oriental church folk, and aparently they'll call the cops if they catch you playing a game of stickball (or inhaling nitrous, I imagine). Amie and I walked 50 blocks yesterday, up and down South Street (even though most of the best stores are in the first 7). We drank 1/2 gallon of lemonade along the way. The grocery store was a bit ghetto, or at least the bathrooms were. The stalls were coverd by shower curtains duct-taped at the sides, and they were stained yellow. We were paid for 4 hours though, even though we worked only 3, and it was good to see my old friend South Street once again. |
Late night snacks. Bite-sized ramblings. Old-fashioned eats, served fresh daily. Open 24-7.  Other blogs Fireballs and Tsunami JeffreyDavis.net Mismatched Parentheses NimbleSixpence One Tortured Soul Palpably Inadequate Picnic, Lightning Pony Legs, Temporarily Supernouveau Wander Lust In my DVD player Archives June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 Other stuff Homestarrunner One Slime DeepDiscountDVD Olde English Sketch Comedy Live Music Archive Copy Army Copywriting Service Love & Radio This One Time Email me mmjunior / at / hotmail   
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