I’ve noticed something as of late. I think my creative senses have been dulled due to my recent soberness. I figure to just conduct an experiment since I am in the danger zone and spit some sweet soothing sounds from the bottom of my ass. I am like the Edgar Allan Poe of blogging. Quaff the Raven….”Kic-kaw niggah!”
I’ll stop in you in your tracks before you think of it…“You lying hypocrite fuck you! You said this is not for you!” Ok, I’ll be submissive to the butt-digger just this once. I’ve heard taking it up the poop-chute can be a self-righteous feeling when you are at your most vulnerable state, but the result usually leads to the participation of the rainbow parade and leather chaps.
I am starting to feel like Stedman. This nagging is starting to make me more compliant to things I don’t necessarily want to partake. I guess the holiest of holy’s doesn’t always refer to that Jesus character and can come in the from of a giant Chinese clitoris holding a Loui Vuitton purse that sounds like a 4 year old toddler. I get points though since this was an X-mas gift.
But thank god Wicked is perfect for numskulls like myself. A green witch, dude full of hay, red slippers and a talking cat to boot. Easier then shit…I kid you not. All talent and production aside, it puts a nice twist on a classic story about a bitch and a dumb ho getting caught up in a tornado.
One more thing. Don’t go out thinking this dude on the net told you to watch this and totally get your your hopes up. I mentioned this in the RENT post but the theater is for specific people. Watch the video below and if you don’t start to lactate within the first 30 seconds, just close this window up.