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Open Letter to Whoever Shows Up Here,

Dear __________,

Hey, how are ya? Long time, no? Yeah, I been super busy too…what? No, that’s not a joke, why would that be a joke?…huh? Yeah?! Oh, YEAH??? Well, fuck you too, guy. I don’t need this shit.

Sincerely,

Onarga.

PS: Hey, if you see Vin Diesel will tell him I can’t believe he hasn’t been recognized for his acting chops yet. I mean, seriously, what the fuck are people watching? Vin is THE SHIT!

Holla.

PPS: You’re not gonna eat that, are you? That laid on the floor well beyong 5 seconds. Look at it, you asshole, it’s got a goddamn hair on it…

Holla-holla!

I don’t know about you…

But I’m definitely hittin’ up this sale goin’ on at Kohls this weekend. That shit’s gonna be off the hook.

Open Letter to Kanye West, Or: Opinions, with Jon (Jr) and Onarga (me)

me: People more talented than Kanye West, Go!

 Jr: mike and michael myers

  george bush

  gary shandling

  Flava Flav

  Donna Summers

 me: Peter North

 Jr: Billy Martin

 me: Bill Sheehan

 Jr: Rikki Rockett

 me: Billy Martiin

  Shelly Long

 Jr: Tolstoy

 me: Erc Idle

  Billy Martin

 Jr: King henry

 me: A-rod

 Jr: Mr. Ripley

 me: Angie Everheart

 Jr: Meg ryan

 me: Winton Churchill

 Jr: Kitaro

  Enya

 me: Meg Ryan’s plastic suegon

 Jr: Napoleon

me: Dante

 Jr: Eddie izzard

 me: Ricardo Montobon

  Fuscilli Jerry

 Jr: Ronny Spector

  Jason preistly

 me: the Marlboro Man

 Jr: Dereck Trucks

 me: Don Draper

 Jr: Buzz Aldren

 me: Tom Noonan

 Jr: Ozwald

 me: Mulder

Jr: William Scully-Mulder

 me: Spike Lee

  william shatner

  CSM

 Jr: William B Davis

 me: Mickey Rourke

 Jr: Micky Mouse

 me: Don Johnson

 Jr: nancy Reagan

 me: Mighty Mouse

  Ron Reagan jr

  Phil Spector

 Jr: Mario and his brother Luigi

 me: Bill O’Reilly

 Jr: The Transiberian Orchestra

 me: Linda hamilton

 Jr: Zamphir master of the pan flute

 me: Jason Voorhees

 Jr: Mrs. Vorhees

 me: Chuck Whoolry

 Jr: Yanni

  Tesh

me: Pat Sajak

 Jr: Hasslehoff

 me: Billy Bush

 Jr: Bob Sagget

 me: Jennifer Love Hewitt

 Jr: Bush’s Daughter

 me: Jennifer Love Hewitts tits

  Bush’s other daughter

  Bush Sr.

 Jr: every level of pamela andersons tits

 me: Jeb Bush

  the guy who built the New Orleans levees

 Jr: Eric Dahl

 me: Sheriff

 Jr: Tim Kalnes

 me: Pat boone

 Ron Howard

 Jr: Jerry Springer

  Billy Martin

 me: Charlie Sheen

  Billy Martin

 Jr: Burt Bacharach

 me: Billy Martin

 Jr: Billy martin

  Frank Costanza

 me: Billy Martin

 Jr: Jay Buehner

 me: Martin Sheen

 Jr: Kirby Puckett

 me: both Coreys

 Jr: Abraham Lincoln

 me:

  Cal Ripkin

  Bo Jackson

 Jr: Rick Succliff

  Harray Carray

 me: the guy who designs Bo Jackson’s sneaks

 Jr: Tyson

 me: Harry Carray’s optometrist

 Jr: Steven Tyler

 me: Joe Perry

 Jr: Steve Perry

 me: Tom Hamilton

 Lars

 Jr: Nikki, Tommy, Mick and Vince

 me: Bobby, CC, Bret, Rikki

  Nilly Martin

 Jr: Tonny iommi

 me: Tony Scott

 Jr: Tony soprano

 me: Tony Shaloub

Jr: Tony Balogna

 me: Tony the Tiger

 Jr: Mike Seaver

 me: Boner

 Jr: Dave Matthews

 me: Billy Martin

 Jr: his band

 me: Billy Martin

  Orthodox Latvians

 Jr: The wright Brothers

 me: The Wrigley Brothers

 Jr: Damon Wayans

 me: The Righteous bros

Jr: The Pointer Sisters

 me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

 

Open Letter To Mother Nature,

Seriously, what the hell is going on?

60 degrees and partly sunny followed by 20 degrees and overcast?

You realize that I left some of my windows open last night, right? Do you have any idea how cold my apartment was this morning?

Do you care, you heartless wench?

Screw you, screw you and your little groundhog.

Sincerely,

Onarga.

PS. It was really nice of you to give us that 70 degree day last week, the ice cream trucks came out of hibernation and drove up and down the block, does the fact that it’s cold again keep them from retiring until it’s officially warm everyday? No. They’re always out there now, ringing their damn bells and endlessly playing that damn jingle which floats through the air, into my front room and bounces off the walls for hours.

Mother Nature, your anability to remain consistent is making me suicidal.

Holla.

Open Letter To Carrie Underwood.

Dear Ms. Underwood,

I love you. I have always loved you, ever since you were on The Mickey Mouse Club or…wait…maybe you were on Degrassi High…but, you’re not Canadian, are you? Carrie, please, don’t lie to me, just tell me if you’re Canadian, if you were on the Mickey Mouse Club (despite, and/or because you were Canadian) and for godsake, tell me you love me too! PLEASE! I need to know this feeling is mutual, if not I swear…I’m just….I’m just gonna die.

You hear me, Carrie? I’m gonna fuckin’ DIE. You think that Twix I ate an hour ago tasted like shit because it’s a lousy product? Fuck THAT! Twix is a fine product; a helluva product, I’d go as far to say! I think that if you go out as a kid on Halloween and you score just 1 Twix the whole night you’ve made out like a bandit, and hey, parents: if you’re giving out those Twix then guess what? You’re doing your job to protect the future minds of this country and planet.

But Carrie, Jesus! What the fuck do I have to do??? I mean, shit, I FUCKING LOVE YOU!!! I can speak with a twang if that’s what you need! You need me to learn a sport? Shit, I can do that, I can do ANYTHING! And I’m not Meatloaf, FUCK THAT GUY! If you NEED me to do something for your love, I don’t care what it is, believe you me, I’m gonna do it, ASAP!

And no, I can’t nail down what it is about you that I love either, so please, don’t go there. Don’t. PLEASE!

Is it your voice? Your smile? The way you tease me with your eyes? Is it your perky breasts and your ass that won’t quit? Is it that blonde hair and those long legs?

No.

NO, Carrie, it’s not!

It’s the way you care about the children, and sing, my GOD, the way you fucking sing makes me feel…shit, I can’t think of any other word but ALIVE! And not just ANY kind of ALIVE but like the kind you feel for the first time!

Can I please take a second to quote Steven, Joe and the boys?

"YOU ARE THE REASON I LIVE! YOU ARE THE REASON I CRY! YOU’RE THE REASON I GIVE WHEN I BREAKDOWN AND CRY!"

Tell me that didn’t hit you right in the fucking gut. THE GUT! Cause I fucking KNOW it did! You’re got eyes for me now, don’t you? I know you do! Tell me you do! C’mon, stop teasing me and tell me! PLEASE?!

Fine. FUCK YOU, CARRIE "I DON’T LOVE YOU" UNDERWOOD. I don’t need you anyway. FUCK. THAT.

Sincerely OVER YOU!!!!!!

Onarga

An obsession explained…

here Tim explains to me, upon my asking, why I might be predisposed to thinking that the Gov’t is full of shit etc etc.

 

here Jon is listed as "me:" and tim is "isley:"

 

 

Jon: lt me ask you something
  knowing me as you do
1:47 PM tell me why you think i can’t help but constantly listen to documentaries about iraw and how the war is bogus and how 911 is probably an inside job and how
 Isley: "It me"?
 me: let me
  sars
  etc etc
 Isley: like I’m supposed to figure that out
1:48 PM me: well at least i’m not missing some blatant reason
  i can’t figure it out
  it’s pretty much all i’m intersted here at work
 Isley: oh, no no no no
  I know why you do that, I was more commenting on how it was hard to kow what you meant through you spelling, like you were writing like a two year old
1:49 PM juice and all
 me: hahahah
  right
  ok
  give it to me
1:50 PM Isley: You are a white middle class child of suburbia where authority figures really had no authority, but pretended they did anyway succeeding only in making it harder to be even freer than we were, what did they do? cops would bust you for nothing, pull you over because they were pored
  teachers were irritated that you were too smart too early
1:51 PM the outside world wanted you in a controlled little group, able to undersand the class but not get ahead of the teather, able to drive a car but not outrun a cop, know the affects of alcohol but not to have any, know how sex works but not to try and get some
  etc.
1:52 PM you were raised by those who rebelled to walk a straight line
  this, this disblief on a grand scale is simply the end result of knowing that our parents drank, had sex, did drugs, listened to rock and told us not to do any of it
1:53 PM we were raised not to trust anyone or believe anyone, even on the small things, how can we be expected to believe the big things?
  This is where the republicans come in
  their shadiness makes it easier for them to control their children, they never partied
 me: this is good stuff
 Isley: "partied"
  they never had sex
  "had sex"
1:54 PM ie: they never admitted to it, they never came clean and said "yes, we did, but that doesn’t mean you should"
  so, there’s kids out age and younger out there who are led to believe everything we know as a lie, as these are the simple things
  above all, they’re never taught to question the government when it comes to it’s might
1:55 PM on everythign: yesschools don’t need money, "minorites" are a myth
  we NEED guns, and lots of em, cause look what happened?
  that’s only a SIGN to COME
  we must be prepared
  "These colors don’t run"
1:56 PM they don’t believe in America, they believe only in what it can stand for, and in their eyes, and in the eyes of their parents and forefathers this country never standed for Freedom, it stood for MIGHT
1:57 PM You, however, listened to DCD, saw porn, watched peeps get fucked up, didn’t fear about "reading ahead" and didn’t spend your days at the mall shopping to "catch up" to the status quo
  you are part of a generation, or a faction of a generation that can be trusted only to be distrustful of everything
1:58 PM The End.
 me: consider yourself a blog, brah
1:59 PM Isley: I think I just Out-Deeb’d Deebo
 me: hahaha
  you may have
  though at this point comparing to deebo is old hat
  he doesn’t go into things like that anymore
  he doesn’t have anything to prove
2:00 PM DCD fucking rules
  i spent 45 minutes designing a mix of DCD for a CD
  so i had to pick the right set list and also maximize the amount of songs i could get on a disc
  it was time well spent.
  gimme a few minutes… the blog will be up
2:02 PM Isley: that blog is riddled with spelling erros, brah, no one’s gonna be able to follow it, but fuck it

 

I just ate a Twix, y’know, with the cookie crunch?

And wow, I feel so sick right now. It was really disgusting.

How February Ended, Pt. 1

 

Well, neither Jon nor I made it to 40, not that we had any delusions of doing so, so in the end we made out with just over 10, not bad when you consider there’s a recording for all songs, had they just needed to be "written" I’m sure we’d have more to show for it, but then you’d have to wait and we’d have to wait to hear them, or god forbid: play them for each other, which woudl effect Jon’s and My ability to drink beer and smoke cigarettes as we listened to everything.

And we like our beer and cigarettes.

Anyway, I hope to expand on this more, as I’m sure Jon does, but personally I’m hoping we can do it as a video blog, writing about writing songs is utterly assinine, if you ask me. So, anyway, despite any contradictions that lie in my previous blog posts on the progress of The Februarian Revolt, this is what I came out with in the end to cushion the blow of that horrible, horrible month of February.

  1. REVOLT
  2. MOTHER/DAUGHTER DOMINATRIX TEAM
  3. “A HEADLONG JUMP TO A PREDETERMINED CONCLUSION”
  4. I SUCK AT FRIENDSHIP
  5. AN ODE TO PUBLIC SERVICE (FEATURING FORMER PRESIDENT RICHARD M. NIXON)
  6. CLIMB BACK ON MY HORSE
  7. VULTURES ON LSD
  8. SLEEPWALKIN’ BLUES
  9. LIE TO YOU
  10. I DREAM OF THE SEA
  11. GOODBYE TO THE ONE I LOVE
  12. HOUSE OF THE LORD
  13. MY FINAL GOODBYE

 

 

 

FIH, 4: “40 is out of reach”

Jon is too right on that one. Why on earth did we pick 40? 20 certainly seems like a given, but 40? I just don’t see it happening…

14. I Dream Of The Sea

15. My Final Goodbye

16. Shackin’ Up

 

40 is out of reach

6.  [untitled]

7. good excuses

8. downwind

9. fanatic capitalist

10. submit/admit

 

lyric:

"great depression in the 20’s, is back in fashion in my 20’s
the temperature’s are in the 20’s… this is getting funny."