EAST LANSING: Land of spoiled white detroit suburbs children and drinking and boring idiocy.
Created | Updated Dec 29, 2003
HI! I live near East Lansing in the wonderfully dumb land of America. A land where we don't invest in the future or our children, we just spends billions to aid in the screwing of others, or... on more realistic occasions, ourselves.
So, you've heard things about this place. BURNING CARS! RIOTS! BLAH BLAH BLAH SEGREGATION BLAH BLAH BLAH STUPID IGNORANT blah MTV WATCHING CHILDREN WHO blah THINK THEY'RE blah ADULTS. INCEST BLAH CRIME BLAH BLAH BORING ARCHITECTURE BLAH BLAH... and so forth. THE PLACE IS SIMPLY JUST- WELL!!!!.... dirty. And a bad place to 'hang' (or
'chill' or 'run from cops' or 'get fatter' or 'get vd's). There's nothing but an endless forest of bars... a forest constantly in the throws of winter... dry, stupid, and no friendly squirrels.
HOWEVER (if, that is, you want to hear any more, please do, I'm lonely), a friend and I found a brilliant, shining, great, taco, bowling ball of triumphancy, thing to do without drinking or getting arrested or culturing cancer within oneself. This can be done anywhere, in any city, home, sewer, planet, haircut, or other minor fashion galaxy.
AND IT IS:
to yell.
But, not just yelling swear words or unintelligent unoriginal things you've learned from the SOMA BOX, just random things like '"CAT BARF HAT!" or "I LINGO TINGO IN BINGO WITH THE PRESIDENTS EXPIRED TROUSERS!"
OR, supposing you have good taste, poetry (or other such published work that you or your friends of someone you know or their uncle or his ex-wife's half-acquaintance at a bar in Greece that she slept with- cause hey, she was in GREECE).
YES! Poetry. YELL IT AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS WHILE DANCING! And anyone who is not reading at that time can dance and add things and sing or chant or urinate in a plastic bad for medical research. Plus, the reading can be done in chorus, OR, multiple works can be read at the same time (though if you do this, and there are cops or priests nearby, prepare to be raided for either holding an unlicensed cult or drinking liquor that you didn't (east Lansing cops are NOT nice, I repeat, eat at taco bell). But, this is, amazing (unless you're a boring asshole- AND IF YOU ARE -then stop reading now you pithy pile of green sturglic plaping gluss... go crawl back to your blinky television screen).
In fact, the only rule of this "game" (which I now pass on to all of you lucky (having now successfully wasted a few minutes) jerks):
YELL AS THOUGH YOU WERE TRYING TO SHATTER A DISTANT STRUCTURE.
(i.e.: a building on the skyline, a tree, a mountain, or, if nothing solid is nearby, a nice large piece of... something).
So that's it.
Go away now.
Be productive.
Or just whack off (or for you girls do what it is you do if you do it).
Tea and candy bars,
a friend.
So, you've heard things about this place. BURNING CARS! RIOTS! BLAH BLAH BLAH SEGREGATION BLAH BLAH BLAH STUPID IGNORANT blah MTV WATCHING CHILDREN WHO blah THINK THEY'RE blah ADULTS. INCEST BLAH CRIME BLAH BLAH BORING ARCHITECTURE BLAH BLAH... and so forth. THE PLACE IS SIMPLY JUST- WELL!!!!.... dirty. And a bad place to 'hang' (or
'chill' or 'run from cops' or 'get fatter' or 'get vd's). There's nothing but an endless forest of bars... a forest constantly in the throws of winter... dry, stupid, and no friendly squirrels.
HOWEVER (if, that is, you want to hear any more, please do, I'm lonely), a friend and I found a brilliant, shining, great, taco, bowling ball of triumphancy, thing to do without drinking or getting arrested or culturing cancer within oneself. This can be done anywhere, in any city, home, sewer, planet, haircut, or other minor fashion galaxy.
AND IT IS:
to yell.
But, not just yelling swear words or unintelligent unoriginal things you've learned from the SOMA BOX, just random things like '"CAT BARF HAT!" or "I LINGO TINGO IN BINGO WITH THE PRESIDENTS EXPIRED TROUSERS!"
OR, supposing you have good taste, poetry (or other such published work that you or your friends of someone you know or their uncle or his ex-wife's half-acquaintance at a bar in Greece that she slept with- cause hey, she was in GREECE).
YES! Poetry. YELL IT AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS WHILE DANCING! And anyone who is not reading at that time can dance and add things and sing or chant or urinate in a plastic bad for medical research. Plus, the reading can be done in chorus, OR, multiple works can be read at the same time (though if you do this, and there are cops or priests nearby, prepare to be raided for either holding an unlicensed cult or drinking liquor that you didn't (east Lansing cops are NOT nice, I repeat, eat at taco bell). But, this is, amazing (unless you're a boring asshole- AND IF YOU ARE -then stop reading now you pithy pile of green sturglic plaping gluss... go crawl back to your blinky television screen).
In fact, the only rule of this "game" (which I now pass on to all of you lucky (having now successfully wasted a few minutes) jerks):
YELL AS THOUGH YOU WERE TRYING TO SHATTER A DISTANT STRUCTURE.
(i.e.: a building on the skyline, a tree, a mountain, or, if nothing solid is nearby, a nice large piece of... something).
So that's it.
Go away now.
Be productive.
Or just whack off (or for you girls do what it is you do if you do it).
Tea and candy bars,
a friend.
